Saturday Post -- 27/01/18

How was the view from your treadmill this morning?

Writing from Guatemala, where we landed on Thursday afternoon after a day of frantic flying. The easy route from Bolivia is via Miami, but Sam's lack of US visa (and, still, a Canadian passport) ruled that one out. So our route was through Lima and El Salvador, with only about an hour's layover at each stop. A broken down aeroplane on the Lima runway caused a big delay in finally leaving South America, but the last flight from El Salvador to Guatemala (think Glasgow-Belfast) awaited our arrival. As we jogged down the terminal, for the first time in my life, I heard my name announced with regard to a departing flight: a seismic moment, I'm sure you'll agree.

We are primarily here for the Latin Link International Assembly, a four-yearly gathering of Latin Link workers from all over the world, including the UK (indeed, a former Cornhill colleague of mine from 2014 will be in attendance). That starts this coming Thursday in Guatemala City. Till then, we are based four hours' drive south-west, in the little town of Panajachel, by Lake Atitlán, one of the country's most famous spots and a general hit with tourists. Three volcanoes loom large on the southern flank and the various towns dotted around the shoreline have heavy Mayan influences. 

The weather is sunny but fresh -- never higher than around 25-Celsius -- and our hotel is beautifully situated on the northern side, right by the shore and with a direct view to the volcanoes; all of which, of course, are positively screaming to this exiled Scot, "Climb me." (NB: They are inactive and eminently scalable; I'll hopefully have some pictorial evidence some time soon.)

Amanda samples the local cuisine.

Of course, we're glad simply to have arrived in one piece and without complications, given that this time next week, things in Bolivia were looking very, very different. Along with evangelical churches across the country, we had an extended prayer time last Sunday for the situation in the country, particularly with regard to the new penal code on the table, which would potentially have taken a wrecking-ball to evangelism in the longer-term. More immediately -- and, admittedly, far less importantly -- the various strikes and road-blocks were genuinely threatening our capacity (and that of other Latin Link Bolivia team members) to get to Guatemala.

Well, we had barely arrived back home after church when a fellow Latin Linker texted, suggesting we check out the latest news. The president had just announced the repealing of the new penal code, in a live interview which had taken place at the very same time we, and so many other churches, had been praying. And we know that these prayers were not confined to Bolivia, based on the many emails of support we received from individuals and churches in the days preceding. A great encouragement indeed.

We are in Guatemala for a couple of weeks. After the conference, the Bolivia team is meeting at the same venue for a couple of days for our own annual business meeting, and then we will be back in La Paz, God-willing, on the 10th of February. There we will stay for a further few days, in order to submit Sam's visa papers (we have to stay till the Wednesday owing to Carnaval). And then, it will be back to Trinidad, where we will have just four weeks to get everything in place for returning to Scotland. In other words: enjoy the volcano vistas while they last, Craig.

One happy customer.

Prayer

• For a relaxing few days here by Lake Atitlán.
• For a safe trip back to Guatemala City for the International Assembly, starting Thursday, then back to Bolivia on the 9th-10th of February.
• For encouragement and good fellowship at the International Assembly.

Praise

• For getting here safely.
• For the amazing developments last weekend back in Bolivia.

¡Que Dios les bendiga!

Craig & Amanda

Saturday Post -- 12/01/18

"Classic Queen!"

For British men of a certain age (i.e., mine), a comedy character called Alan Partridge holds cult hero status. Played by Steve Coogan, he has, in his various broadcasting incarnations, presented the sports news, hosted a chat show and tried his hand at graveyard-shift radio. It was that last stage of his 'career progression' that was covered in the mock-documentary 'I'm Alan Partridge', in which our hero, in something of a transitional state in his life, found himself living in a naff roadside hotel, the 'Linton Travel Tavern' for six months, while betting the house on an unlikely return to the BBC. 

These temporary (sort of) accommodations shine a light to the best and worst sides of his personality. He collects his mini-soaps and -shampoos in a box. Using a briefcase, he smuggles an extra-large plate into the breakfast buffet each morning. He dismantles a Corby Trouser Press. He develops a well-meaning, though increasingly uncomfortable, familiarity with the hotel staff, including hapless handyman Michael, formerly of the military. A typical exchange:

Michael: Oh aye, I've seen some terrible things, mind.

Alan: What, like three men burning in a tank going, "aaarrgh!"?

Michael: Ye wouldn't want to know, Mr Partridge.

Alan: I'll be honest, I'm pretty curious. I'd basically like to understand man's inhumanity to man. Then make a programme about it.

Well, these past couple of weeks I had a minor case of the Alans myself, having stayed in a Santa Cruz hotel for a total of eight nights, double what we'd bargained for. 

A little high-tech for Trinidad, this.

The plan had been to take a four-night city break after the busyness of Christmas and New Year, with the express aim of seeing the new Star Wars film and, for the ladies, allocating some Christmas capital in the general direction of clothing. We arrived on the afternoon of the 2nd, expecting to leave on the morning of the 6th. While in Santa Cruz, we also caught up with some friends and enjoyed the hotel facilities; Sam went wild in the outdoor pool, desperate to swim no matter the water temperature.

Saturday morning was going well. Despite the accumulations, I'd managed to get the car packed in no time at all and we were all ready to hit the road back to Trinidad at about 8:30. And that was when the problems began.

I've never felt so simultaneously devastated and thankful
that I don't live in Santa Cruz as when I frequent the
various quality pizza outlets

One of the first priorities was to fill the tank, which was nearly empty. However, this was proving more complicated than expected due to an oversight on my part. In Bolivia, you need to have a licence, renewable annually, to be able to buy fuel. We had not been made aware by the previous owner of our car when this would be 'up', and it turned out ours had expired while we were in Santa Cruz. At a succession of stations on the way out of the city, I implored the workers to consider our situation. No joy.

We came to the last station before the turn-off to Trinidad, indeed, the last station for a good 50 miles or so. The lines were long, so I parked the car to the side and walked to the head of the queue to ask what my chances were of getting a hand. Happily, the staff agreed to overlook my oversight and told me to get in line. 

Which I would have done if the car had then started. Well, we did get it started, but only after about a dozen attempts, by which point it was crystal-clear that to depend on this vehicle to get us home would be the definition of folly. Lumbering and chuntering back through the city streets, we somehow managed to transport it to the home of a mechanic friend. And there it stayed...until Tuesday afternoon!

While I was doing my best to disguise my frustrations, my mother-in-law, Selene, was doing her best to disguise her joy, being something of a lady of leisure, quite at peace with hotel life. We just had to get on with it, though for me, cabin fever was taking hold. A few days earlier, the fact that the staff would trace your every step at the breakfast buffet seemed attentive; now it was becoming an irritation. And why-oh-why were we being subjected to that Ed Sheeran album again? 

Spot the boy.

Still, in the end, the extra days gave us a little more time with friends and a lot more time with each other. I enjoyed having a little more free time to spend with the family after a busy Christmas and New Year period at church.

On Wednesday evening we finally made it back to Trinidad, glad to be back home in our own beds. We'd best enjoy them while we can; it's Guatemala in two weeks' time.

Prayer

• Pray for the country of Bolivia. We can't go into details here, but Google searches such as 'Bolivia doctors', 'Bolivia press freedom' or 'Bolivia evangelism' will yield some eyebrow-raising news stories.
• We have a lot to do at work and at home in these next couple of weeks before leaving for the Latin Link International Assembly. Pray for energy and patience.

Praise

• Give thanks that our car wouldn't start where it wouldn't start, if you catch my drift. The Santa Cruz-Trinidad road is not somewhere you want to get stuck with a breakdown.
• For a pleasant time of it in the big city, even if for a little longer than expected.

¡Que Dios les bendiga!

Craig & Amanda

Saturday Post -- 30/12/17

First things first: the Christmas Day barbecue was a roaring success! After the traditional midnight-on-Christmas-Eve celebrations, over 30 friends staggered out of their beds and joined us in mid-afternoon for a couple of hours of beef and banter. If it were up to me alone, we'd make it an annual fixture. Amanda's not quite made her mind up on that one; please pray for a prompt decision on that, as the next one is a mere 51 weeks away.

By about 5:30pm, our last guests had left, the last plastic plates had been dumped, and the barbecue had been reduced to mere embers. Time, then, to continue the Christmas traditions by putting our feet up and enjoy a well-earned evening's rest. 

Well, not quite. In fact, it was time to go to church.

You'll remember that on the afternoon of Christmas Eve, we had been due to have our big annual Christmas celebration service, an event for which around 100 different children and young people had put in weeks of preparation in terms of dance, singing and drama. Furthermore, an array of lights, tin foil and tinsel was on display; the hall had been well and truly decked. The stage, as it were, was set.

Until this happened.

From around noon on Sunday, well into the night, the heavens rained themselves dry. And Trinidad's geography means that it doesn't take the most prolonged of storms to turn the streets into rivers. Meaning that by as early as 2pm, with the church by now essentially reduced to an island, the WhatApp group was abuzz with concern for the service. 

And so, we took two steps we've never taken before as a leadership. On the one hand, we called off the service. This would never have happened in the case of a usual Sunday morning, where we always manage to get a faithful core, come rain or shine. The difference here was that a whole host of children and parents with little church contact outside of the holiday Bible club ministry were due to attend. It takes the merest spit of rain to send people here running for their houses; they were hardly likely to make it out in these conditions.

This was taken at the Foundation on the morning of Christmas Day, i.e.,
some hours after the waters had begun to recede!

On the other hand, we postponed the service. Recognising the uniqueness of this service -- not only in terms of its overtly evangelistic focus, but also the huge time and effort that had gone into its preparation -- we felt we owed it to those involved to reschedule it and hope for better weather. And so we did, for 6pm on Christmas Day; which, to be fair, was harder on us than for most people, given that Christmas is effectively over by around 6am on the 25th here. 

Still, after all the effort of the barbecue, we weren't exactly pining for two hours sat on our backsides in an overcrowded room. An Evening with John McClane this most certainly was not. 

And yet, you know what? We wouldn't necessarily keep it as a permanent Christmas Day fixture. But while the Christmas Eve service usually serves as a nice little official launch to the annual celebrations, this was an equally special way to bring the curtain down. I think that for many believers,  if we're honest, the 'spiritual' side of Christmas is pretty much over and done with by the time Great Aunt Agatha arrives, the Brussels sprouts are served and the crackers are, er, cracked. This way, before setting it aside for another year, we had the chance to come back to the very essence of it. 

I also felt helped as I gave a short talk at the conclusion on Jesus being the Light of the world, to which people seemed very attentive; not bad, given the general exhaustion.

This weekend, like many other churches around the world, we'll have an event for New Year's Eve on Sunday night. Our thoughts then turn to Santa Cruz, where we're going for a few days on Tuesday morning for a short break with Amanda's mother, Selene. We will likely be travelling home next Saturday, meaning the first post of 2018 will likely have to wait a week.

Thanks to all of you for your prayerful support over these past 12 months. It was a joy to see so many of you earlier this year, and your prayers have certainly carried us as we have settled in here again since June, a transition that has not always been without its struggles. We look forward to sharing our lives and ministry with you again in 2018.

Sam: meet train sets.

Prayer

• Pray for safe travels and a relaxing time in Santa Cruz this coming week.

Praise

• For a surprisingly wonderful, blessed experience on Christmas Day.
• For God's great faithfulness to us as a family in 2017. We have so much to be thankful for.

¡Que Dios les bendiga!

Craig & Amanda

Saturday Post -- 23/12/17

Coca-Cola don't just own Christmas where you live.

This morning, after a couple of weeks of jazz carols and Handel's Messiah, I got in the car, finally succumbed to my true self and dusted down the downright tacky stuff (The Pogues excepted, of course). I wobbled my way along a flooded, potholed-street, children slipping on their backsides in the mud, while a horse rummaged through the binbags by the side of the road. And all the while, Bing Crosby's telling me 'It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas'.

This, of course, is the toughest time of year to be away from home, the result often being that every year, in an attempt to keep homesickness at bay, we have gone to great lengths -- perhaps greater lengths than we would do in the UK or Canada -- to make things as 'Christmassy' as possible. This was relatively simple a few years back, when there was a sufficiently large contingent of North American and European missionaries here to justify splashing out on a turkey and tolerating Cliff Richard for a day. In recent years, however, it's just been the three of us, meaning a whole day is spent in tropical temperatures, preparing a roast dinner that will be uncomfortable to eat, gone in 15 minutes and will not even feature aforementioned bird.

Well, 2017 may well go down in the annals of history as the year in which we hoisted high the white (Christmas) flag. I miss the traditional Christmas dinner greatly -- my last one was three long years ago now -- but really, what's the point of going to all that effort when it's just not the same? So this year, we're ditching our preconceived notions of Christmas food and embracing the joys of the Beni cuisine. 

That's right. We're having the mother of all steak barbecues.

And while we can't have most of our blood family here, we can certainly throw a party for our beloved church family (indeed, steak would be as futile as turkey were we a mere trio). So, we're inviting them too. There will be no crackers. No Queen's Speech. No mild racism from a grandparent in the corner. And that's OK. We will be surrounded by 'loved ones', in their own unique way. And best of all, unlike your relatives, they'll probably all be gone with the last sausage, clearing the way for an evening of Die Hard, HRH on-demand, and panettone (a Bolivian festive tradition I've wholeheartedly embraced!).

Anyway, a happy Christmas to everyone. Actually, no. ¡Feliz Navidad!

Prayer

• Christmas Eve sees our church hold its usual annual service with contributions from our children and young people. It is often the only time that their parents will come each year, so please pray that we will be faithful as a church in not wasting that opportunity.
• Craig will be giving a short evangelistic talk at that same service. Pray for boldness and clarity.
• Pray for a special time on Monday with our Trinidad family.

Praise

• Amanda's mother, Selene, arrived on Tuesday afternoon to spend Christmas with us -- and to lend a hand over the school holidays! Give thanks for her safe arrival and for her great help to us already.

¡Que Dios les bendiga!

Craig & Amanda

Saturday Post -- 16/12/17

Mother and conjunctivitis-riddled son, washing dishes
together, Wednesday morning. With hindsight, maybe
not the brightest of ideas.

Freak. Demon-eyes. Pinko. Alien spawn. Watermelon woman.

At this time of year, with its great emphasis upon giving and receiving among loved ones, the above is a mere sampling of the good-natured insults that Amanda and I have exchanged. Yep, you've probably already guessed it. This week, we were given the gift of conjunctivitis.

Trinidad has been in the midst of something of an epidemic these past weeks. For most of the last month, a good number of our friends in the community have been struck down by the highly contagious pink fiend; albeit, to varying degrees. By last weekend, we had somehow managed to steer clear of it, and assumed we were home and dry.

That was until Sunday night, when I felt some low-level itching and throbbing in the middle of the night, and struggled to get back to sleep. Sure enough, the mirror confirmed the worst, and Sam was next in the firing line. Still, for us lads, said mirror and Amanda's barbs were the only reminders of our ocular abnormality; the pain and irritation were minimal. Any pink remaining was of a decidedly Financial Times hue.

So we were glad that the worst seemed to have passed, and especially that Amanda had somehow kept out of its path of destruction.

That was until I woke up on Thursday morning next to an extra from a Star Trek episode set on Planet Zug-Zug. Overnight, Amanda's eyes had swollen to the size of small rugby balls (and more league than union, I might add). Not that I could see them, as it took vast quantities of chamomile tea (supposedly the best solution) just to be able to open the eyelids, stuck together with no end of gunge and gloop. Dynamite wouldn't have gone amiss. The eyes themselves were blood-red and highly painful. A few hours later, she was gripped by a fever. 

Sam shows off a little stable decoration he made at the club
this week.

All this, and Sam's tearing around the house like Hurricane Humphrey. Did this have to happen during the school holidays?

Anyway, with a little help from good friends, we were able to subcontract Sam's care, and I was freed up a little to attend to Amanda, whose eyes haven't shaken off that redness, but the pain is significantly reduced and they have reverted to their normal, beautiful, shape.

Working, as we do, in a health institute, meant we were necessarily based at home for the whole week, and that enabled me to work on end-of-year updates for FT sponsors and our own supporters, as well as starting to prepare for next weekend's Christmas Eve service, where I'll be giving a short evangelistic talk.

On that note, Sam's been able to get along to holiday club again this week, where much of the activity is building towards that same Christmas Eve service. And on Monday, he had his little end-of-year show with his class from school, in which he more than held his own in the much sought-after part of Bunny Rabbit #3. 

Sam with one of his teachers, Valeria,
on Monday evening.

Oh, and Amanda's Mum is arriving on Tuesday for an extended visit. I do hope she packs her goggles. 

Prayer

• That Amanda recovers soon from her conjunctivitis.
• For Amanda's mother's (Selene) travels over the next few days.

Praise

• For Sam's largely cooperative behaviour during these difficult days.

¡Que Dios les bendiga!

Craig & Amanda

Saturday Post -- 09/12/17

Daddy & Sam on chairlift, Cochabamba.

We have had an unintended blogpost holiday, and it wasn’t until we got  message from someone mentioning how they missed our updates that we noticed. Oops. Sorry. The truth is that last weekend we were in Cochabamba for our 18-month Latin Link review and the weekend before that, well, I have no idea. It was too long ago, but apparently, we were busy. 

I (Amanda) can’t report on our activities from two weeks ago (as I can’t remember), but I can tell you that Cochabamba was fun. It involved good food, Man U football (for Craig) and late-night chats with friends (and a soft play adventure for Sam). We stayed with Jimmy and Brigitte Fernandez, fellow Latin Linkers, and Brigitte completed our review with us on the Friday. For those of you who don’t know, to fully join Latin Link you have to complete their two-year Stride program first. Essentially, it’s a two-year short-term program where you are supervised by the in-country Latin Link short term coordinator (Brigitte). So even though Craig and I have been in Bolivia for almost eight years now, we are technically short-termers with Latin Link. Once we complete our two years (next September), we will then be classed as full-term. One of the responsibilities of the short-term coordinator is to do six-monthly reviews with those under their care, hence our 18-month review. The review was intensive, and it was refreshing to go over all the good and bad of the last six months with someone who understands. 

We have horses in the streets in Trinidad, too; they can
usually be found rummaging around the garbage
at the end of our street.

The truth is that we have so many filters that we consciously or subconsciously apply to ourselves when we have conversations with anyone. The filters can be multi-layered with some people, or completely different with others. I guess as Christians, we sometimes use the phrase ‘the Sunday mask’ to kind of start talking about the topic of authenticity, but I think ‘filters’ goes further than that, and I think we do it with everyone. I choose to deepen conversations or not depending on who I am talking to and my past experiences with this person. I choose to share things or not with people depending on the person’s background and personal experiences. I choose to be vulnerable or not with friends and family based on how I think they are going to react. I filter. The person that anybody is the most unfiltered with is usually the person they are closest to, but even then, there are filters. I am definitely the most unfiltered with Craig, but I still have to filter. Maybe I present information or a scenario to him in a considered way that will most appeal to him, or I choose a moment to share bad news that I know would be better than another. This is still filtering. 

Why am I talking about filtering? Because missionaries to have filter a lot. I don’t know if we have to filter more than other people, as I have not been a lawyer, doctor, investment banker, teacher, etc. However, I definitely feel like I have to filter more than I did before I became a missionary and its exhausting. We filter what we say and how we say it to the people we are working with here in Bolivia. We have to constantly be aware of being culturally sensitive, and yet be assertive and authoritative in what we say. We have to know when to show vulnerability to build relationships, but when to hold back so as to not negatively affect the ministry. We have to live a Christian life that reflects what we’re teaching and yet show that it’s OK to struggle in this life sometimes (but not too much, because certain sins get higher eyebrow-lifts than others, which would affect our credibility, which in itself is filtering). We have to constantly give advice, care, affection, time etc, and filter out our needs for advice, care, affection, time etc if we feel that the other person is unreceptive to this (which happens a lot). Our job is filtering. 

Cochabamba's Cristo de la Concordia towers over Sam.

Then we have to filter how we interact with our supporters and prayer partners. I think as far as accountability goes, Craig and I try to be as open as we can and limit the number of filters we put into place. We want people to have a genuine idea of our life, which includes struggles. We don’t want to hide the bad. However, that doesn’t mean that our blog posts and emails are not carefully considered, with wording changed, paragraphs deleted and sometimes heated discussions as to content. Sometimes I just want to post a GIF of someone banging their head against a wall, but I choose to apply a filter to that decision (mainly because I don’t know how to post GIFs). And the filters that we need to consider and apply when the ‘M’ word is involved?!?! Money is a touchy subject. And there is no manual written for missionaries that works for everyone on how to deal with fundraising. The way someone can address funding needs in one place is completely different to someone in another place. Sometimes Craig and I have to send separate emails to our North American supporters and our UK supporters because the issue is dealt with in such varied ways. All of this is filtering. 

Then there are the ways that we filter with friends and family. We all do this, but maybe some more than others. What and how I share something with Craig is different than what and how I share something with my Mom, based on how important the information is and how I think the information is going to be received. 

We're not in Cochabamba any more: the scene we woke up to on Tuesday
morning. Rainy season has started here in earnest.

I think the art of filtering is something the majority of us learn to do from an early age and we generally do it subconsciously. However, recently it has started to be something I am noticing more and more and it has begun to be a bit of a strain. I don’t think it is something we can just stop doing, but sometimes I want to rip the filters off and spout off verbal musings to the world and say, “Hah, take that!” So, (going all the way back to the beginning) it was really refreshing to talk to Brigitte about life in general and current struggles because I could remove a lot of the filters. She understands our context, understands the culture, has been to see us in Trinidad and knows our surroundings, and she is our friend. I ripped off a whole pile of the filters that I feel have been constraining me for a while and it felt good. I think we apply a lot of filters to escape judgment from others, and it was so liberating to be listened to and not judged. 

Sam. You'll find him in the club.

Since coming back from Cochabamba, the school holidays have started. For the first time in our lives the school holidays are not quite as exciting as they have been. Sam’s home for two months!!! The church has a kids’ club three days a week for two hours and Craig is helping with that and takes Sam along. He’s also going to a friend’s house one morning a week so he has time with friends. Now we get to participate in the age-old problem: how do we entertain our child for two months without going crazy? It is going to be good times! 

Oh, Christmas decorations went up this week as well!

Sam makes a (sadly inedible) candy cane at said club.

Prayer

• Preparation for Christmas programmes both in the Foundation and in the church.
• The local kids’ time in the Kid’s Program, that they would respond to the gospel message.
• Sam’s time at home with us for the next two months; that we would be blessed by it and not find it stressful.

Praise

• Time with friends in Cochabamba last weekend.
• The end of many of FT’s yearly programs and the blessing they have been to people.
• A visit from Latin Link’s Bolivia Director Louis Woodley Friday evening.

¡Que Dios les bendiga!

Craig & Amanda

Saturday Post -- 18/11/17

Don't try this at home (or you'll get sued).

There's no dressing it up: this year, it's fair to say we didn't so much enjoy camp as endure it. I think it was last year that we asked our supporters to be especially prayerful for us as we were about to run our first camp avec enfant. As it happened, Sam barely raised a peep the whole weekend. It was probably owing to 2016's overall feeling of smugness, then, that I barely gave such concerns a moment's though.

Hah. What do you get when you cross an all-action youth camp with a sleep-dependent toddler navigating the 'terrible twos'? A lesson learned, that's what!

So it's fair to say that, all said and done, our own experience of our first four-day camp (and fifth overall) was somewhat removed. However, by the time we'd gotten our energy-levels back to something resembling normal (about 4pm on Thursday afternoon, by my estimation), we could step back from things and see God's hand in it. The young people were challenged. The church was built up. And no end of hijinks was engaged in, the likes of which would keep health and safety experts up at night. In other words, much to give thanks for.

Not that, on the face of it, there was all that much to be optimistic about upon arrival on the Thursday afternoon. Nothing quite says 'the joys of Bolivian camping' quite like:

• Waterlogged floors.
• A dormitory room with the roof off.
• An auditorium filled with bunk-beds.

I imagine points two and three were in some way connected!

All hands to the pump, then, and within a couple of hours we were able to mop up the floors and completely reconfigure the vast dining hall so that one half of it could be set aside for music and teaching. Still, it was very much a case of, "OK, Lord, you've made this camp possible. We trust you to help us work within these limits, and bring glory to your name." Still, it's fair to say that by the time I finally sat down at the keyboard, about an hour later than scheduled and without any rehearsal time with the other musicians, my head was anywhere but in the moment.

Craig with 'small' group.

For all Sam's difficulties this time around, we at least stuck with last year's approach of commuting to and from the camp site each day, just over an hour's drive. We arrived on Friday morning to overcast skies and reports of excitable teenagers managing as little as 30 minutes' sleep. Things were going to be just fine.

Romon Gore

Things warmed up as the day progressed and we were able to have our first proper teaching session in the morning. This year, the focus was, er, 'Focused' (Enfocado, in Spanish), using the first few chapters of Daniel. Our teachers were Romon (of newly-arrived couple Romon & Melinda -- see previous posts) and Ruddy, whose father is my fellow elder and Fundación Totaí president, Miguel Ángel. The sessions were highly practical, particularly in a Christian context. I was particularly encouraged by Romon's teaching on Daniel 3 and his observation that stories such as those of the young Jews and the fiery furnace are so often used to glibly declare that God will always deliver us from our problems. Perhaps this seems obvious, but in our context here in Bolivia, it's not unusual for pastors to get away with this kind of lazy application; many simply haven't been given the critical thinking skills to question such a statement. I think the youth were encouraged to see that God can deliver us, but that if he does not, it's not a sign of his rejection of us (as Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego also affirmed).

Ruddy Arauz

As the day wore on, I snapped away (the 'official photographer' position is a useful one in muck-avoidance!) while Amanda just about held things together while keeping an eye out for Sam. But by about 5pm, the latter had long given up on even trying to behave himself, the fatigue proving too much to bear. We left early that evening, with Amanda resolving to stay in Trinidad the next day with Sam, even though she'd be without the car.

Not that she would have had much freedom anyway. For this was the scene to which we awoke on Saturday morning.

That picture is taken from our garage door. We live about a mile north of the ring-road which surrounds the central area of the city. From our house to the ring-road, I would have been better served by a dinghy. 

My passenger (Elías, who like us had opted to return in the evenings) and I feared the worst, even if the main road to the campsite was more elevated and, therefore, not flooded. Based on the conditions that awaited us on Thursday afternoon (with leaky roofs being a particular problem), we were beginning to wonder if there would even be a camp site by the time we got there. 

Yet the closer we got, the lesser the intensity of the rain, until we eventually arrived to find the camp site undergoing nothing more than a mild sprinkling. Amazing.

So things were able to proceed more or less as planned on Saturday, and Amanda and Sam had sufficiently recovered their energies during their house arrest to be able to come back on Sunday for an exciting final day. As has become the tradition, we had a brief communion service and, beforehand, without any planning, I challenged the young people to confess Jesus' Lordship over their lives (we know that three of them made a commitment that morning). 

An impromptu post-games shower under an overflowing water-tower.
This really happened.

This done, we then headed over to a large pond on the grounds to witness six young people and two adults declare their faith publicly by being baptised. Long-time readers may remember the tragedy of a teenage boy's suicide early in 2016. Four of those baptised are his family members, including his two parents, who had never before darkened the door of the church. Tears were shed.

Father of five, Alberto, with Elías (foreground)
and Miguel Ángel (background).

All that remained was for the rest of the 115-strong party to become fully immersed themselves, having a quick end-of-camp splash before lunch, group pictures and our departure. Just after we'd put Sam down, at around 8 o'clock, Amanda told me she was having a short nap. I wasn't to see her again till the next morning. Likewise, I have have become gladly reacquainted with siestas these past days.

If I may paraphrase the great king Nebuchadnezzar himself, it has been my pleasure to tell you about the miraculous signs and wonders that the Most High God has performed for us.

Prayer

• Pray for all in attendance at camp -- leaders and youth -- that they would continue to draw encouragement from what they heard. 
• Pray especially for the new converts, and for older Christians to come alongside them to disciple them.
• Pray for future camp planning. For the first time, the leaders had a debrief meeting last night, in the hope of keeping the areas for improvement fresh in the memory for next year's planning. Based on the weather, a date-change might be priority number one!
• Sam has been a little under the weather since we returned. He has managed fine at nursery and at home, but he's not eating very well and has had bad diarrhea. 

Praise

• Give thanks for safety in the travels of ourselves and the campers, and during the various activities there.
• Give thanks for Romon and Ruddy and their thought-provoking messages.
• Give thanks for those who chose to be baptised, and for the awesome work of God in their lives.

¡Que Dios les bendiga!

Craig & Amanda

Saturday Post -- 04/11/17

A well-timed photo of Sam and his pumpkin to placate
those who were expecting a bit more effort from this
blog entry.

I'm just going to go straight to the prayer points today, as we're in the midst of another very busy weekend. There'll be no post next weekend due to camp, but we hope to update you with a full report on this year's activity in two weeks' time.

Prayer

• Pray for abundant supplies of energy, patience and grace in the coming days as we embark on the final preparations for camp. Among other things, Amanda is in charge of making sure all the money and permission slips are in from campers (no small task!), as well as printing of the all-important official camp T-shirt. Craig's main task is organising the musicians for what is always a big undertaking. This year will be our longest camp so far (up to three nights from two), so even more music is required of us. Rehearsals will be taking place in the evenings this week.
• From Thursday, pray for the camp itself. To help Sam sleep well, we will be driving to and from the campsite, just over an hour's drive, every day. This will require us to leave our house at around 6:15 each morning, and arrive back at around eleven o'clock each night. Only Camp Adrenaline™ will get us through all of this safely. Pray that we will be afforded much of this! 
• Pray for the speakers, Romon Gore and Ruddy Araúz, who will be going through the first few chapters of Daniel. The camp theme is Enfocado ('focused'). 
• And, above all, pray for the 100 or so campers who will be in attendance: that the Lord would reveal himself to those who have not yet trusted in him, and that he would renew the strength of those who have.

Praise

• Give thanks for a great film night at the church on Friday, where around 150 people from all over the neighbourhood came to watch the film 'Luther' and hear an evangelistic talk afterwards. A young man publicly confessed Jesus as Lord. Soli Deo Gloria!
• Give thanks for another encouraging meeting of the Langham Trinidad preaching group this morning.
• We've had one or two issues with our car in the last couple of weeks (above all, tyres). Give thanks thanks for safety on the roads amidst all of this.

¡Que Dios les bendiga!

Craig & Amanda

Saturday Post -- 28/10/17

Cards on the table: this will likely be the very definition of 'workmanlike'. Another busy Saturday awaits, kicking off with United-Spurs in just over half an hour (as I write)! Essentially, this will cover anything that comes into my head, and will be assembled in no discernible order. So there.

Tomorrow is the 13th anniversary of Fundación Totaí's founding and we marked the event with a special event for staff on Thursday evening at an indoor volleyball complex (no kidding) which also lays on big steak barbecues. The two hours of physical activity which preceded the meal made me all the more determined to eat far too much as ever. 

Friday, meanwhile, was a day off for staff. We've mentioned here before the preponderance of so-called 'Hallmark holidays'. Say it's 'International Day of the Lobotomist'. All such individuals are legally entitled to take the day off. At FT, with a range of staff across several disciplines, observing these would effectively cost us about a week of work across the year. So, instead, everyone gets the anniversary (anniversaries of any number also being a big deal here).

I've had a busy couple of weeks with preaching, Bible teaching and a whole swathe of other administrative jobs for the church. So when I realised I'd also have to prepare a short thought for a prayer meeting last week, I thought to myself, "This isn't exactly building a church free of missionary dependence, is it." So I prayerfully approached Diego, the 15-year-old I'm discipling just now, and he gladly took on the job! He already had a little experience with teaching children, so I knew he would be just fine. He really is a young man with great potential and a great love for the Lord, someone we'd really appreciate prayer for.

The event dominating today is the AWANA Olympics, AWANA being the Bible-memorisation-based children's programme we run in the church, and the Olympics being a cross-town contest between the various AWANA churches based on games and Bible quizzes. Next weekend we have a special film night at the church, showing the film Luther; we're encouraging people to invite as many friends and family members as they can. And the weekend after that...it's camp! This is why we take Mondays off, y'see.

At least we had a somewhat relaxing time of it last weekend (key word there: somewhat) as we drove down to Santa Cruz for three nights. The idea was to have some relaxing family time and, if at all possible, find a way of seeing the much-vaunted Blade Runner 2049 on Saturday evening. We even had a babysitter lined up through a contact of ours. Well, it didn't quite work out -- nor, indeed, did the whole 'relaxing' thing in general, if I'm honest! Sam up till now has proved himself to be immensely adjustable to new environments, but he was not for sleeping in that bed, and a mild fever the first night didn't help things either. At least we got to hit some of our favourite gourmet junk-food eateries, though Sam's inevitable exhaustion manifested itself in ever-more creative ways there too!

Still, it was great to wake up on a Sunday morning with the only key decision being which T-shirt to wear to church. From our perspective, that is a break! We touched base that day with our Latin Link mentors, Graham & Debbie Frith. This was especially good fun as Spurs were hammering Graham's beloved Loserpool when we got back to their place afterwards.

There'll be no such outcome today, of course.

Prayer

• For the big events coming up at church: the cinema night and camp.
• For Craig as he preaches tomorrow.

Praise

• For a break (of sorts!) last weekend.
• For FT's anniversary.
• For the encouragement of seeing young guys like Diego step up to the proverbial plate.

¡Que Dios les bendiga!

Craig & Amanda

Saturday Post -- 14/10/17

Craig with fellow Mr. Bolivia contestants MCB new membership candidates.

During a dramatic week of World Cup qualifying, one of the big headlines was Panama's president declaring a national holiday the day after their first ever participation in the tournament was secured. The slapdash nature of this was certainly a key component of the story. I joked with a friend that, were the same thing to happen to Bolivia, we'd probably get a week! For spur-of-the-moment days off work are standard practice down here, so much so that we're struggling to remember the last time Sam attended school for a full five days.

(Utterly irrelevant tangent alert: Bolivia, like Scotland, share the honour of having played in the opening game of the World Cup, Bolivia against Germany in Chicago in 1994, and Scotland against Brazil in Paris in 1998. And Bolivia, like Scotland, have since failed to qualify. See also: Senegal, South Africa.)

Local holidays and the like, curiously, have taken on a strikingly different complexion since Sam started school, with things reaching something of a nadir this week. Two consecutive days went down the proverbial, with the added bonus of being announced only on the afternoon of the day before. Wednesday was international women's day so, naturally, all members of the fairer sex were entitled to an impromptu day off (at no inconvenience whatsoever to their employers, one would vouch), while a a maintenance mishap rendered the school unsafe for Sam and his toddler cohorts on Thursday. 

The circumstances were not ideal, not least for Amanda, who had flown solo on the parenting front from Thursday till Saturday of last week, thanks to a conference I attended. This was the annual national assembly of Misiones Cristianas Bolivia, our church's denomination, which, for the first time in its 57-year history, was taking place in Trinidad itself. This was my first time in attendance as a delegate (my membership was confirmed on the opening day), with two others in our church already among the membership. Essentially, the national assembly was an extended business meeting, with a significant chunk of time given over to reviewing the body's constitution (so long that much of it will have to be reviewed via email communications over the following year). A necessary evil, then, if not quite my idea of fun. 

That said, it was a great opportunity to meet like-minded individuals from across the country. Like Mark and Carol, an older American couple who run a seminary in a rural part of the country. Or Mario and Helen, who are commended from the very first church I attended as a boy back in Hamilton. Or Felix, a Bolivian missionary who works with a tribe who are based 12 hours' from the nearest major city. No electricity + no internet + no telephone lines = a calling!

Helpfully, the fellowship opportunities were extended beyond the conference itself. In the evening, three special services were held for the Trinidad churches to attend, with a series of talks given on the Reformation. One of the main speakers was Canadian Jürgen Schultz (or 'Jorge' to Bolivians) whom attentive readers may remember as being our speaker at camp last year -- and a very good one at that! It was good to catch up with him, too, and his 40-minute overview of the life and impact of Martin Luther was soul-stirring.

At the Foundation this week, the annual ENT surgical campaign has been in full swing and Amanda has been helping to keep things ticking over. Meanwhile, I've been preparing more teaching materials for church: a sermon for this Sunday and, for Thursday, a new Bible study based on a book called 'Living in the Power of the Gospel'. It's a book that was recommended to me by a missionary friend as having had a powerful impact on pastors and laypersons throughout Bolivia recently. We began by reading the first couple of chapters and thinking particularly about Colossians 2:6, with its encouragement to the believers to live their lives 'just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord'. In other words, it is the same power that saved us that now sanctifies us, and not an ounce of this comes from within ourselves. If you've read the blog of late, you can see that this ties in nicely with some of the issues that have arisen in the light of our sermon series in Galatians.

Anyway, best get on with the rest of my day. After all, Sam never seems to have classes on Saturdays!

Prayer

• This week we met with a young couple called Cristhian and Milena, who are having some marriage difficulties. They have a three-year-old son. Please pray for them, and for wisdom for ourselves in counselling them.
• For our work as board members at the Foundation, where we are occasionally having to deal with some difficult staff issues.

Praise

• Craig and the rest of the Langham Preaching group had their first meeting this morning since the Level 3 workshop. Give thanks for a good start.
• For a great initial Bible study on Thursday.
• For a good first MCB meeting for Craig last weekend.

¡Que Dios les bendiga!

Craig & Amanda