It all started when the suitcase fell out of the back of the van near Salcedo where the marriage retreat was held. It was scooped up by a local and dragged off in time before a big truck ran over it. I wonder now what the contents would have looked like without the intervention!
The ministry sessions with HCJB folks in Quito, prior to the retreat, reminded us again of the privilege of being with such a diverse and gifted group that God has put together to work in radio, medicine and water projects. This 80+ year old ministry has an intriguing history with many indications of God’s miraculous intervention to broadcast His words of Hope, heal the sick and bring water to remote villages. The other night we were with new friends talking through issues of transition as they prepare to leave the country, while in the background we watched the sun set on Cayambe, one of God's great creations surrounding this city of 2 million. Please pray for those who leave and those who stay. This mission, like so many are in the process of much change with all of the accompanying challenges and emotions.
Follwing the time in Quito and retreat in Salcedo, we headed down and up a few mountains to Yanacocha (Black Lake) for a church service in the Commuity Development van that our engineer friend, Bruce Rydbeck, was driving. Missionary drivers on mountain roads are really something to watch! There isn’t a lot of conversation but there is a lot of concentration, (as the rest of us chatted) and I’m thankful for the choice! Anyway, there was a lot of trust, which was well deserved. Bruce is an excellent driver!
The views of Tungurahua and El Altar were not only wonderful distractions, they were a gift of the splendor of God’s Creation that took our breath away! Usually that is only a good thing, but since we were a little short of breath anyway at nearly 11,000 feet in Quito, the phrase has a little different slant!
In this place of roosters, Keith preached about dear ‘ol Peter, the pain of the rooster’s crow, and the reminder in future crowings, of Peter; Graced, forgiven, restored and strenghtened! Bruce interpreted in Spanish to this gathering of Quechuas. I was asked to hold one of the two offering plates (one was for the general offering, and the other was for missions) and choked back tears as this black-hatted-poncho-drapped-crowd-of short-nationals dropped their coins in the plates. The widow’s mite came to mind for certain and I was deeply moved. Then I was asked to pray and Cherith interpreted. What I didn’t say but wanted to, was “God, please make me as generous as I perceive these followers of Yours are.” Perhaps I should have.
The church building was lovely! It was built by some with means who used to be part of the community
who combined their money and construction talents with that of the community, to get it built. This was in contrast to the village that the group from Carilise had worked at in 1997. And even though the toilets often had to be bucket flushed, the new bathroom was a far cry from to the burlap-doored-space on a little ledge to which we would carry our shared pink toilet seat! When we headed to the van and I took a picture to share following Bruce’s remark that the Carlise group was 15 years too early!
This was the same day that we had seen food presented at the marriage retreat that in a way both interesting and beautiful! The fresh fruit juices were such a treat and were enjoyed in the company of 17 missionary couples who came for growth and encouragement near the white water of the Black River which lay at the bottom of a gorge. Now we were served dinner at a card table with 4 white plastic chairs in a little room down the hill from the church. Seveal feet away 4 huge plates full of potatoes and onions, lettuce and tomatoes and Qui (guinea pig), were dished up, in spite of Cherith mentioning to the gracious cook, that we had had a very big lunch! Qui is a delicacy, a cash “crop” for the Quechuas and this was a gift of love indeed! But I enjoyed the potatoes and the very hot sweet tea the most. Can you imagine what they would think about us serving lobster?
Three men and two women ate at another table. That made me sad, but that’s the way it is....for now. Following the meal, Bruce moved to the other table to talk turkey (the phrase sounding especially funny to me since we had just eaten guinea pig) with them about a water project issue.
On the way down the mountain, we stopped at the oldest church in Ecuador made from an Inca Temple by the Spaniards.
The ride down to Shell made us so thankful for the many missionaries of the past who had been this way, including the "Ecuador Five," (especially having heard first hand from Elisabeth Elliott about her time here) and thankful for the new roads with rough hewn tunnels carved through the mountainside, completed 6 years ago, for present day missionaries. The old descending dirt road had been the only option for getting to Shell, with no guard rails. All kinds of vehicles would at times back up, shimmy, and do what was necessary to get by each other. There were T-shirts that sported the phrase, "I survived the road to Shell!!"
The day before was a day off on the side of a mountain in Banos with an active volcano - the last eruption was 6 years ago and we were full of questions about the history of this town. We arrived at Shell in time for some time with a lovely young national and the first evening meeting with us again thankful for the chance to offer what we could and what we have been given from His wonderful Word, to be an encouragement. Just like in the Philippines, there is much transition here too with many complicated issues!
This afternoon we have the opportunity to meet with the Community Development Group here for several hours with some teaching opportunities and the group initiatives :-)
Another plane just took off! We are very close to the runway and every time one lands or takes off, a siren sounds, which is quite often. Although just one small runway, this is the 3rd busiest airport in Ecuador - all small planes and helicopters used for many different needs (including emergency flights to the Shell branch of the HCJB hospital) as the best (only, in many cases) way to get around the jungle. We have no doubt we are in a rain forest - you should have heard the pounding rain this morning!
The next morning we were standing in the kitchen in Nate Saint's house where five women sat around a table and received news that their husbands had been killed. Here in this town (the end of the road then
in the 50‘s) the planes, and now helicopters, have continued to take off and land for decades carrying at first, new missionaries who were part of a wave in the wake of these martyrs. Now, almost all of the MAF pilots are nationals, as the Word and Work of Life continues. The sobering moments standing in that room were turned to prayers of thanksgiving and petition for those who still grieve the loss.
Another sobering moment on our way back up to Quito - crossing the gorge in a cage as we were told that the early missionaries crossed this gorge on something much less enclosed! No choice! Yikes!
And there was a little adventure to break up the trip with the descent and ascent to a lovely waterfall!
Please continue to pray for the missionaries that you support! Listen to them when they are on home assignment. Speak the truth of the Gospel to them - they need to hear it as much as we do! Write to them. Have them in your home! Provide for them... Care about their children! Be blessed! And thank you for your support in the privilege of this trip!
