Grace from His Fullness

Sitting there in the corner of that little 500 square foot house, I looked around the room at the little faces of the kids that had gathered together that Saturday afternoon, almost thirty of them. It was hot and cramped and little two-year-old Francisco was not happy that his mom had brought him there.

Taiwani sat next to Mariclene and my mind went back to when they ran the streets together. They were like the dynamic duo, stealing fruit from the trees in our back yard and throwing mud at the house when we said it was time to go home. Now Mariclene has been part of our family for a year and a half this month, and oh how she has transformed. But Taiwani still wakes up to the same troubled house she lived in when we first met her two years ago. The stories I know are horrific.

I see the others. This one being raised by her elderly grandmother because her mom didn’t want her and her dad got remarried and his new wife didn’t want her either. This one who will likely not make it to thirteen before she has a baby of her own because all of her four sisters before her have walked that same road. This one who is so selfish and overbearing because her parents give her every last thing that she wants because it’s easier than teaching a child. After all, no one ever taught them.

Then there is little Chico who stands outside the doors all wide-eyed. He refuses to come in because he prefers to “run the streets”. He’s five.

There is Rafaela who has the sweetest little timid voice and I swear she hasn’t grown an inch these last two years. Her dad is a drunk, but her mama, who can’t read a single word and asks Rosa to count her money because she doesn’t know the difference, works hard to provide for her and her brother and sister, always smiling as she walks several miles to work and back.

And so many others sitting there laughing and coloring and listening and learning. I know pieces of their stories and this room feels so much smaller.

I feel so much smaller.

It’s always made me a little uneasy when I have people tell me that the ministry we do is “amazing” or “incredible” or “awesome”.  

To me it feels heavy and not enough. I feel inadequate and overwhelmed by the needs. I look around and I think, “We could never do enough to change-really, really change--this town.”

I know how weak I am. I know my own faults. How many days I just want to go away, back to the comforts and familiarities of my homeland. Imperfect, unable.

I know Rosa’s family struggles. I see the personal battles she faces and I watch as the “church” criticizes her every move as she seeks to be faithful to the calling He put in her heart twenty years ago. Imperfect, unable.

I know the financial needs. The funds are limited and I feel like we aren’t doing enough but a dollar only stretches so far so we have vitamins to supplement the physical lacking and prayer to increase awareness. Imperfect, unable.

I know the stories of these littles as they file in and out on Saturdays. I know many of the houses they go back to and I wonder, “Does this really even matter?” Imperfect, unable.

And then I hear it. When I step away from myself and all this imperfect, it’s there. That still, small voice again that faithfully reminds me:

“I AM enough.

I AM sufficient.

I AM here.

I AM at work.

I AM the Creator of all things.

I AM the Sustainer of all things.

I AM amazing.

This IS amazing. Because of Me.”

{Or, in the words of Francis Chan, “God says, ‘This is MY party and I invited YOU!’”}

And so I applaud this ministry and say at the top of my voice that YES! this ministry we are a part of IS amazing. YES! the work we do here IS amazing.

Because we are so very weak, but He is so very strong.

Because we can’t see past this difficulty or that obstacle, but He holds the future.

Because we are so far from perfect in our endeavors, but He sees the intentions of the heart.

Because... Grace.

“Indeed, we have all received grace after grace

from His fullness...”
John 1.16

Glimpse at the Good

In the midst of the hard, like little beams of light breaking through the clouds, God gives us little glimpses of what He’s doing here to keep us going.

Here’s a list of some of the great things God has and is doing in our part of the world.

--We are facilitating the start of the very first children’s home in Benjamin Constant. It will be called “Bendita Esperança” (Blessed Hope) and is an extension of the Blessed Hope ministry of The Common Thread Community, our mission board.

Pray for this project. We must act to break the cycle of alcoholism, teen pregnancy, drug addiction, abortion, and prostitution in this small town, and it starts with reaching the next generation for Christ.

--We are discipling a young Jagua Indian couple that is living in our home.

Their tribe consists of 6-8,000 people. They’re passionate about reaching their own for Christ. We’re pouring into them so they can pour into others. We are working to get the Jagua Bible (partially translated) onto audio devices so that every single Jagua family can have access to the Word, regardless of their reading abilities. Pray.

--Richard is coordinating the Indigenous Seminary--started by Indians, attended by Indians. They have asked Richard to organize and structure the ins and outs as that is not a strong point in Indigenous cultures.

Lord willing, more than 160 Indians from 5 different tribes will gather together for the entire month of January to study God’s Word, many for the first time. Professors from four different countries will teach courses in two different languages, all with the goal of equipping these young men and women to go back to their own people to disciple new believers.

--We are adopting a little girl who, without the hope of Christ, was on the track to become a drug-addicted prostitute like her birth mother. God has brought her into our family, a beautiful depiction of the Gospel.

We meet with the Judge during the first week of October. Pray for a smooth process.

--Richard will be in the States for two weeks in November to raise $300K for the helicopter.

With this tool, we will be able to reach more tribes deep in the Javari Valley who are dying from preventable disease and treatable injuries in an effort to demonstrate the Love that motivates us. It’s a lot of money, no doubt. But we serve the God who owns the cattle on a thousand hills… and the hills the cattle are on… so He’ll provide it all in His timing.

--Marcos Mayoruna continues to disciple young men (currently there are 15) from the Javari Valley who have come to study in a small town not far from us. Through Marcos, they receive biblical training and discipleship as well as lodging, food, and other basic needs.

The Javari Project continues to help provide many of these needs, freeing Marcos to do more ministry in the Javari. Thank you to those of you who sponsor these young men through this project.

Thank you for your prayers.

Thank you for your encouragement.

Thank you for your giving.

God is at work.

If you would like to donate to our ministry or any of these projects, please visit

https://onrealm.org/commonthread/register

Five Minute Friday: Ordinary

Joining in again this week with Liso-Jo and Five Minute Friday. Five minutes of writing from the heart. This week's word is "ordinary". Go.

“It’s amazing what you guys are doing! I could never do that!”

‘We are so very, very ordinary,’ I think to myself each and every time I hear those words. 'I wish you could see that part.'

Because while there is jungle and river and village and canoe, there is also dishes and bedtime and whining children and “we forgot the toilet paper!”

As I battle every day through the ordinary that fills our lives only sprinkled with brief moments of extraordinary that come from God Himself, I feel very small and unworthy and unprepared for all of this. I tell a friend that I feel like there is nothing I have to offer and she reminds me that it’s the ordinary ones that God used the most in Scripture and today is no different.

So I write and share and live and try to convey this: we are just ordinary people striving to glorify and extraordinary God.

And aren’t we all? Even those we serve and those who give so we can go and those who go—all just ordinary. It’s not until the God of the extraordinary gets His hands on the molding clay that we are turned into something beautiful and even then it’s not our beauty, but His reflecting through us.

So there will be babies born with nothing and Indians traveling for days to hospitals and flights to carry sick to the doctors and all of this. But those dishes still stack up and didn’t I already sweep twice today?

And it’s those ordinary moments that seep humility into our lives so that God can be big 

and we can remain so very small. 

 Washing dishes in the river... Ordinary Indian life.