Grace and peace to you in the name of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Today is the first Sunday of Advent.  It is an ancient tradition for many Christians to mark out the four Sundays leading up to Easter.  One candle is lit the first Sunday and one more is added each week until the Christ Candle (the one in the center) is lit on Christmas Eve. 

Today’s candle was for peace.  Paz [pahs] in Spanish.  Isn’t that a nice sounding word?  It would be great to have peace in the world and on the earth.  As part of our family worship time tonight we read from Isaiah 2.1-5 and Psalm 122 which talk about going to the mountain of the Lord and celebrating the peace and joy of the Lord so that we can truly be the people God has created us to be.  The other two readings were from Romans 13 and Matthew 24 which talk about being ready for the coming of the Lord.   When the Lord comes, there will be peace.  Eventually.  Someday.

Many times while on this earth Jesus said, “The Kingdom of God is at hand” or “The Kingdom of Heaven is near.”  I believe him.  I believe he knew what he was talking about, and I believe it is just as true now as it was then.  So what’s taking so long?  I think it’s us.  I think we are getting in the way.  We aren’t acting the way we are supposed to.  We are not being the people we were created to be.  We are holding up the coming of the Lord.  We need to be ready and stop fighting and arguing.  We need to be ready to live in a peaceful world.  We need to seek and strive and learn to love God more and more every day.  We need to realize we are here to serve and not to be served.  We need to realize we were created for a purpose and we won’t be truly happy until we start living out that purpose in our own lives.  And when those things happen, guess what?  The Kingdom of God will break through into our world and we don’t have to wait any more.  We can catch glimpses every once in a while.  Someday we will see it in its fullest. 

 To God be the glory.

I hate it when people come to the gate begging.  It is hard to know who to trust and who not to.  We have a standing policy that we do not give money, but if people want food, we’ll give it.   All of us have pretty soft hearts in our family and we want to believe the best…we want to believe people can change.  There is a young man who first came to our gate about two months ago.  He’d had some tough times before and during that time he’d lied to us about some things.  After a while he stopped coming.  (I wrote about him in one of our newsletters).  Honestly, we were glad he’d disappeared.  The other night he ruturend.  He looked cleaner.  He looked happier.  We hoped the events of the past had had a positive effect on him.  Maybe they did, but we don’t know for sure.  Last night he was very happy that his “best friend in all the world” was moving into the boarding house where he lives.  She has a baby and he wanted powdered milk and diapers as a gift for her. 

“Some else bought me some diapers for her,”  he said smiling, “Could you get me some of the powdered milk?”

It’s not all that expensive (it’s not the baby formula, just powdered milk).  “Wait here,” I told him, “I’ll go get some.”

At the store the woman behind the counter (a woman who knows almost everything going on in the community), warned me about a young man who’d been hanging around the store.  “He’s a liar,” she told me.  “He’s going to take the milk and sell it so he can buy drugs.” 

My pride would not let me not buy the milk.  Soraya could use it, I rationalized.

When I got back to the house, I got into the yard and locked the gate behind me before I started talking to him.  “I’ve heard some things about you,”  I said, “things that aren’t good.”

He looked shocked and appalled

“Tell me about your job,” I asked (He’d told me he’d gotten a job and where it was, but for the life of me when I went to check on it, I couldn’t find it…but with the way addresses are here it’s not entirely surprising).

He got adgitated and told me the boss fired him and then said he could come back anytime… (hmmm?)

I then asked him straight out if he did drugs.  “No,” he said, ”When I was younger I drank alcohol, but I did not like the taste…”  (hmmmm?)

“I’ll be happy to give you the milk,” I said, “but not in the original bags.  I’ll put it in another container.”

He didn’t want anything to do with that.  “I’ve got to go,” he said, “I have to meet someone to get a car to fix tomorrow.  I’m trying to earn money…”

He left.  I kept the milk.

As I was writing this this morning, Diego (that’s his name) came back.  “I came to get the milk,” he said, “In another bag.”   He was on foot…not driving the car he had to pick up to repair (hmmmm?)

I did not want to give it to him, but I’d told him the night before he could have it in another bag.  I had to keep my word, I felt.   I gave it to him and told him “No more.”  He smiled and said, “okay.” 

Last night we had someone else knock at the gate as the time approached ten o’clock.  “My car ran out of gas,” he said.  “I’m friends with so-and-so missionaries” (he gave us the names of some people we know), “but when I went by their house, they weren’t there.  Can you give me some money to get gas.  I’ll bring it back tomorrow.”  Yeah, right, wink, wink…  We just so happened to have the named missionaries’ phone number.  When we called, she picked up the phone right away — she must have just gotten in…wink, wink.  She said, “We don’t know who he is.  He’s done this to a lot of other missionaries.  Don’t give him any money.  He is a liar.  Thank’s for calling.”  The man wasn’t happy, but he didn’t get anything from us.  Ahhh…  Too bad so sad…

I think people coming to the gate is one of the hardest things about living here.  We want to be the hands and feet of Jesus.  He said, after all, “I was hungry and you fed me…”  But we also do not want to support a drug habit either intentionally or unintentionally. 

Please pray for wisdom.

I’d studied some Spanish before coming to Costa Rica.  It was years ago in college, but still, I could say a few words and all.  Know that, I set a few goals for myself, the biggest one being:  “I want to preach in Spanish before Christmas.”  Before leaving the states I thought it was a very reasonable goal.  Then we got here.  Sure I could say a few words, but there was an awful lot of stuff I couldn’t say.  Maybe the preaching would have to wait.  I decided to really focus on learning Spanish.

Today, though, that goal was reached.  Our pastor invited me to preach this Sunday, and after a lot of work, I was able to do it.  I read a lot more of the manuscript than I wanted to read.  I was more nervous than I had been in years.  But I did it.  What really made me feel good was the fact that the congregation was with me and responded to things I said.  When it was all over, the pastor even told me it wouldn’t be the last time I spoke there.  Wow!  I feed good.  Exhausted…but good!

Thanks for your prayers in this. 

May you reach your goals as well.  To God be the glory.

We’ve been told for months that it doesn’t always rain in Costa Rica.  “Just wait,” they said, “the end of November or the beginning of December, the weather will change.”  It has.

About a week ago, we had three days in a row with no rain at all.  Audra and I sat in the back yard enjoying life when she turned to me and asked, “Why haven’t we enjoyed the yard before?”  Before I could answer, she quickly said, “Oh, yeah, it’s always been raining!”

Yeah, we’ve had rain over the past few days, but it’s been different.  It’s not as hard and pounding.  It’s more like we called when I was younger a “soaking rain.”  More than a mist but less than a rain.  What’s really different now is the wind.  Constantly.  Cold.  We’re told a cold front is over us and that’s causing some of the low temperature, but I also think it’s normal for the next few weeks or so. 

And, by the way, it does get cold here.  With a steady, damp wind, we’ve pulled out our long sleeved shirts and sweaters.  One of our classmates though has told us no matter how cold it gets, he’s “not going wear long sleeves in the tropics… it just ain’t right.”

He can be a shivering lump of pride if he wants to be.  I’ll be a warm wimp.  I don’t care…

Oh, and by the way, we had our first earthquake the other night.  Two of them in fact.  The problem is none of us felt it.  (We only know of a handful of people who did).  It was the middle of the night and those of us in concrete houses on the ground flood slept right through.  Oh, well.  I’m sure we’ll have another chance.

 Be blessed in all you do!

We just finished having dinner with our pastors (Pastors Raul and Ana Nita) and their family.  What a wonderful family they are!  From listening to his messages (I hate the word sermon) on Sundays, we have from the beginning felt a strong theological connection to him.  That was reaffirmed tonight.  They have three children (one couldn’t make it because of work), and they told us Soraya has stolen their hearts. 

During dinner he asked me if I would preach on Sunday… in Spanish.  Please pray for me as I prepare not only my heart but also my tongue!

Be blessed in all you do!

¡Ooo…Gordita!  That’s what a tica (Costa Rican) woman said today when she saw Soraya in the backpack.  She thought our baby was cute and wanted to compliment her so that’s what she said.  It means “little fat girl” in English.  She is cute.  She is a bit gordita…but she’s only 13 months…she’s supposed to be. 

We didn’t take it as an insult (and by all indications, either did Soraya).  There’s a lot of that here.  It’s normal.  It’s not supposed to be offensive.  It’s just a way of describing a person… In conversations it can be something like:  “You know that skinny guy.”  Or:  ”That fat woman who lives down the street.”  Or:  “That gringo guy.”   Anyone from Asia is referred to here as a “Chino”.  It doesn’t matter if they are from Korea, Japan, China or India.  To many of the Ticos they are Chino. 

It’s taking a bit for us to get used to it, but we’re learning.  We still don’t call each other fat or skinny or Chino.  But we do call one another Tico, Tica, Gringo, or Gringa. 

One thing I do take hope in though is that we were told by a life long Tica that “Todos los Gringos son guapos” (All gringos are cute!). 

If that’s what they think, I don’t mind being a gringo!

Be blessed in who you are and in all you do… 

Oh, I forgot to label another group… that’s y’all… I’ll call you Amigos… Friends.

Now that summer is almost here and the rainy season is nearing an end, we are excited to be able to see the stars again at night.  We still have to look at them around the clouds, but they are there and promise to be beautiful when all the clouds drift off to wherever the clouds drift off to.  Every once in a while we do catch a glimpse of the moon.  I remember growing up (was it last year?) looking for the man in the moon whenever the moon was so bright she illuminated the entire landscape.  Some days I could see him (the man in the moon, that is).  Other days not so much.  The other day I learned I was looking for the wrong thing all along.  The moon doesn’t contain a man any more than it is made of green cheese.  The shadows we see on the moon are those of a giant conejo…or rabbit.  Makes sense to me.  Looking online to see if I could find any legends about how the rabbit got there, I discovered I’ve been in the dark for a long time.  The rabbit has been in the moon for centuries in Asia as well as in the legends of the first peoples on the American continents.  The Mayan and Zapotecs have a number of stories about it getting there.  That’s the reason their moon goddess is often shown in art holding a rabbit.  Cultures are interesting!

I’ve put some pictures here to help you decide if you see it, too. 

I gave blood today.  I hadn’t been able to do that in the states a lot lately becuase of all the rules and regulations.  Don’t get me wrong, rules and regulations are good, but at times I felt they were getting in the way of those who want to give.  There always seemed to be a shortage of blood but an excess of rules.  Again, rules are good… but at times… Audra and I couldn’t give for the past few years in Georgia becuase we’d traveled to Peru and Brazil.  Those places disqualified us because there is a risk for malaria in those regions. 

Giving blood here was similar in some ways.  Different in others.  A team from the local hospital came and set up cots in the chapel of the school.  Comfortable, but flat.  We filled out the forms with our name, address, phone number and then a list of boxes to check which only had about 15 questions (compared to what seems like 50 or more in the states)–they didn’t even ask us if we’ve been out of the country (kind of obvious for us, I guess).  They took our blood pressure, pricked our finger to sample the blood and then put that in a centrifuge.  That part complete, we were given our bag in a plastic box and went and laid down on the cots.  A slight sting and we were on our way. 

Some people, I know, don’t like to give blood becuase of the pain (others don’t give for other legitimate reason).  While we were waiting, the woman next to me said she didn’t like the stick either.  “Compared to the stick that Jesus got in his hands, wrists and feet, that needle is nothing,” she continued. 

After about five minutes, I was finished.  They removed the needle, gave me a cotton ball with which to apply pressure to the wound, and then I waited.  When I felt well enough, I sat up, was given a plate of food (a delicious sub sandwich–compared to the nutter-butters we get in the States) and a canvas lunchbag containing a coke, box of peach juice and a pear (the first really nice looking pear I think I’ve seen here).  I considered saving the pear for the kids, but then thought, “Hey, I didn’t see them giving blood today!”  (It was really good.) 

I’d do it again. 

Be blessed.  And if you can (not if you want to), give blood.  Save a life.  You can do it.  I know you can…

I feel really blessed today.  Even though the kids have been sick for days and I have been on the verge, I have been remembered.  Only this week I got a letter from my mom, been contacted by old friends, spoke with folks from Georgia, been thought about by buddies and continually greeted by those around me. 

I know how disappointing it can be to go to the campus mail boxes and see again that there is nothing for me.  It is a desire deep within me to be recogized, to be valued or even just acknowleged.  God continually sends people my way to bless me and let me know that He has not forgotten where I am. 

This past spring while traveling toward our training in Colorado, we pulled into a walmart to pick up some snacks and stretch our legs, as we got out of our van, a woman pulled up next to us and while her kids were piling out, asked if we knew there was rough weather.  Well, the sky looked dark, but it often does and we said no and chatted for a few minutes about life and the fact we are missionaries etc.  As rain started to fall, we all ran into the store as she wished us a good trip.  What a nice encounter!  We picked out a few inexpensive items, checked out and were waiting for a pause in the storm, when through the automatic doors comes a girl with a couple bulging bags.  She said, “My mom thought you might like some snacks for your trip!” and walked back into the rain to the  open doors of her van.

To think what with all the wars and sickness all of the pain and problems of this world that God had time to ask someone to give us a sack of encouragement, it completely boggles my mind.  We are thankful for all you are doing in the name of Jesus Christ wherever you are–you may never know how you have been used to bless someone…

May we all be keen hearers of God’s voice and doers of his requests…Gloria a Dios!

Audra for the rest of the southern branch of the McEuen family…

Every Tuesday and Thursday, the students at the Language Institute are invited to a chapel service in English (our heart language). Those who would like to deliver the message for the day. Of course, I volunteered (I love to talk and share stories). I ran out of time, so I only made it halfway through, but here is an idea of what I wanted to say…

The first time you met Jesus:  Do you remember the first time you met Jesus? I don’t know if I can remember the first time, exactly, but I do remember some of the first times I met him. I met him once at a Baptist Bible Camp (Camp Bethel) in the Big Horn Mountains of Wyoming. I was a preteen and the speakers and the activities helped to soften my heart so I could respond when the invitation was given. A big man with a big bushy beard walked with me to the steps behind one of the cabins and told me the story of a man who was in a shipwreck. He was drowning and about to give up when at the last minute, he felt a hand reach down to save him. “That’s what Jesus wants to do for you, Ash,” he said, “All you need to do is ask him.”

I asked him and I felt God’s justifying grace fill my heart and soul.

Another time I met Jesus was when he introduced me to the Holy Spirit. I was at a spiritual life retreat called The Walk to Emmaus in the mountains of North Carolina. On the second night we had a big bonfire and had a chance to spend time with God in prayer. I felt Jesus was there with me and that he wanted me to know the Holy Spirit even better and I would feel the presence of the spirit fill me starting at the top of my head and pouring over my body. I would feel this, and I would get scared and push the Spirit away. This happened a number of times until finally I gave in and was flooded with the Spirit of God. Wow! I bawled for two hours straight. Whenever I thought I was about to finish, the flood started again. I know I’d met Jesus there again.

There’s been other times I’ve met Jesus, but I’m not here to talk about myself. Instead I want to talk about the Bible and what the Bible says about meeting Jesus.

I love the gospel of John. I love the way he plays with symbols and images. I love the way Jesus meets and interacts with people in the gospel of John. It’s very real. Very human.

The disciples meet Jesus:  I mean, look at the first time we see Jesus in the gospel. I’m not going to read the words exactly right now. You can read that on your own. I believe these stories are the inspired word of God and that when we read these stories, God encourages us to make these stories our own. When I do that, I try to place myself in the stories somehow.

I can just picture how it went that first time 2000 years ago. Here was John the Baptizer. He was the Billy Graham of the day. He was preaching and teaching and lives were being changed. He had a following and people either loved or hated him. One day he was sitting beside the Jordan River with a few of his closest friends and Jesus walked by. John didn’t say anything at first. He just watched Jesus walking by. “There,” he said not to anyone in particular, “Is the son of God come to take away the sin of the world.”

Those with John probably looked at the man who had just passed and thought in their minds, “Him?”

“God told me,” said John the Baptizer, “That when I baptized someone and I saw the Spirit of God come down on him, he would be the one. That’s what happened when I baptized him.”

The next day, John was there by the river again with two of his disciples, Andrew and presumably John (even though he isn’t named directly in the Bible), when Jesus walked by again. “Behold, the lamb of God,” said John the Baptizer.

Without saying a word, the two disciples stood up and started following behind Jesus. They didn’t call out to Jesus to stop and wait. They just followed. They watched. They whispered and pointed, “That’s the son of God?” “He’s the one we’ve been waiting for!” “He’s the one who’s gonna’ change our lives.” I don’t know how long they followed Jesus. When he stopped, they stopped. When he started, he started. I think Jesus knew they were there all along. When he stopped one time, though, he turned around and looked directly at the men. “What do you want?” he asked them (and I’m sure he smiled).

“Uh, er,” the men stumbled, “Where are you going?”

“Come and see,” said Jesus turning around and moving on.

You know, those are the first words Jesus speaks to us: “What do you want?” and “Come and see.” I don’t believe that’s a coincidence. I think it’s important that those are the first words we hear from the mouth of our savior. I think they are important, because they are the very same words he still speaks to us today.

What do we want:  Here we are, following behind Jesus, looking to see what he’s going to do. Listening to what he’s saying. Not talking a whole lot to him. Just following him. After all that’s what we are supposed to do, isn’t it? After all, Jesus said, anyone who wants to be my disciple, needs to pick up their cross and follow me. So we diligently follow. We sell all our possessions and follow him. We quit our good paying jobs and follow him. We move to Costa Rica and follow him. We do all these things and we follow. Good for us. But then Jesus turns around and sees us and when he does, he says, “What do you want?”

You know, I wonder: What is that we want? Why did we give up everything that made sense to follow Jesus? What is it that we want?

Do we want more jewels for our crowns?

Do we want to see the world and get paid for it?

Do we want to see lives transformed?

Do we want to share the love of God with a hurting world?

Do we want to just get out of the United States because we don’t like the way it’s heading?

Do we just want a change in our lives?

What do we want from this following Jewish carpenter from Nazareth? Of course, you know I can’t answer that question for you. No one can. Only you can answer it for yourself. What encourages me, though, is that no matter what answer I give to Jesus, he’s still Jesus.

He’s not going to laugh at me, point at me and say, “You wanna’ do what?”

He’s not going to pin a medal to my chest for being so noble and honorable, either.

Nor is he going to try to talk me out of it.

I believe with all my heart that when Jesus asks us what we want, the next thing he’s going to invite us to do is to “Come and see” what he is all about. He’s not going to ask us to make a commitment, yet. He wants us to come and see. To understand with our eyes what we want to feel in our hearts. Come and see.

And the disciples did that day. They went with Jesus to see where he staying. They spent a lot of hours with him there. But you the Bible never tells us where that was. We will perhaps never know exactly what it was that Andrew and John saw in Jesus that day, but we do know is that what they saw changed them forever. The very first thing Andrew did was go find his brother Simon Peter and bring him to come and see this Jesus.

The next day, Philip saw something in Jesus as well and his life was changed. He went looking for his friend Nathanial. “Nathanial,” he said, “I’ve found the Messiah, and get this, he’s from Nazareth!”

“Hmpf,” snorted Nathanial, “Nazareth. Can anything good come from Nazareth?”

And guess what Philip said to him, “Come and see for yourself.”

Nathanial went, and guess what happened: his life was changed, too.

Jesus’ ministry had begun and lives were being changed and transformed left and right because of this man who asked them, “What do you want?”

As missionaries we are going out into the world—and I believe everyone who believes that Jesus Christ is their Lord and Savior is a missionary wherever they find themselves—we are going to meet a lot of people who have heard about Jesus. We’re going to meet people who grew up in church and can sing the songs and say the words and maybe even tell a few stories. But do they know the Jesus who wants to know them? Do they know the Jesus who takes the time to welcome the little the children and to draw in the dirt in order to save a woman’s life? Do they know the Jesus who greets them every morning with “Have a Good Day” along with “What do want from me today?”

Our challenge is to go to the least, the last, and the lost and share with them the love of Jesus in ways they will understand and that will relate to them. A Jesus who loved them so much he was willing to give it all…and then to come back!

The woman at the well:  In the fourth chapter of John Jesus met a woman that many people didn’t like. Maybe she had loose morals. Maybe she was too poor. Maybe she smelled bad. We don’t know exactly why they didn’t like her. She was an outcast in her community, though. That’s why she was coming to the well at the middle of the day instead of the cool of the evening. Jesus’ disciples had gone off into town for food, while he waited at the well for them to return. When the woman approached to draw water, Jesus talked to her. “Draw me some water,” he said.

“Why are you talking to me?” the woman asked. “I’m not like you. I can tell. Your people and my people don’t have anything to do with one another.”

The words of the Bible don’t say it specifically, but I believe if we look at the feeling and his intent behind his words what Jesus said back to the woman was, “Because I love you and I want to know what you want from me in your life.”

Do you know what’s interesting to me in this story: when the disciples returned with the food and saw Jesus talking to this woman, they were taken aback. They knew the traditions and customs and the proper way for their cultures to behave toward one another. The bible says specifically that no one said to the woman, “What do you want?” (John 4.27 NIV). They were too disgusted to even care, it seems.

Have we ever been guilty of that? Have we ever looked at a person and saw their sin or their guilt or their age or their color or their language or their faith or their denomination and not seen the real person sitting there? Have we ever jumped to conclusions and before we even realize it, write them off as not worthy of the love of Christ? I pray the answer is, “No, never,” but I’m afraid the honest answer would be, “Well…sometimes…at least.”

Fortunately, this woman at the well was not looking that way at the disciples. She was too busy looking in awe at Jesus. She left her water jar there at the well (a horrible thing to lose in that culture) and ran back to her village. As she went, can you guess what message she shared with everyone she saw? “Come and see the man who knows all about me.” Because she said that…because she invited her friends and neighbors to come and see who this Jesus is, the Bible tells us a lot of lives were changed and many people believed.

I could keep on talking about the love of God and the stories of Jesus. As the old song says, “I love to tell the stories of Jesus and his love.” But I want to be sensitive of your time. You’ve heard enough from me for right now. If you want to talk more later, just find me and I’d be happy to talk…ask just about anyone who knows me.

Before I go, though, there is something I want you to think about. I know you’ve come and seen Jesus at some point in your life. Maybe at one of those times you committed your life to him. Maybe it’s time to recommit. I don’t know. That’s between you and Jesus. Again, if you want to talk, there are plenty of people around here who’d love to listen to you and help you to reconnect with Jesus. To help you to find out just what it is you want.

What do you want?

Come and see!

To God be the glory.