Christmas in Mongolia

We’ve hinted here and there about G.O.’s work in Mongolia. We wanted to take a moment to highlight that work today. John Koehler serves addicts and prostitutes in Mongolia. He works with a team of Mongolian leaders that regularly hit the streets there in the capital city of Ulaanbaatar serving the Mongolian ladies hot tea and food while they are “on the job.” It used to be that if they wanted to speak with the women that they would have to pay them for their time. They’re continued kindness opened doors with the Madams and after some time they gave permission to their “employees” to stop charging for these visits.

Over time many relationships have been built and some of these women are being transformed by the Gospel. The biggest obstacle for them has been how to provide for their families if they stop the work. Most of these women are not driven by addiction. They are driven by the need to provide for their families. Once the monthly bills are covered, many do not work until the following month’s needs develop.

Each of us on staff helps partners with Koehler’s work in Mongolia through G.O. That’s why your support of our work is also support of this work. In the past year G.O. has helped to finance three small businesses in Ulaanbaatar that are offering these women other ways to earn an income for their family. We have helped get a bath house (public pay showers), a car wash and shoe/purse/wallet manufacturing company off of the ground. Our hope is that at these grow more women will benefit from them as ways out of their current life style. Our intention is to add to these efforts as time and resources allow.

I’m reminded this Christmas that Jesus, the son of God, was a blood descendant of Rahab, a prostitute in Jericho. I’m reminded of God’s gracious use to accomplish his profound will of broken people both with their cooperation and in spite of them. I’m reminded of his deep love of humanity and what He is willing to sacrifice to have us for his own. I received this photo in John’s last update, after hosting a Christmas party for the ladies.




Please join us in praying on behalf of John’s work in Mongolia. Pray for these women, loved by God, that they discover the blessings of abundant life, of Shalom. Pray for renewal and transformation.

As always, thank you for your love and support. Merry Christmas!

G.O. Leadership Team

(Center) Vicki Rogers (Left to Right) John Martinez, Tim Krauss, Jeff Rogers, Brook Brotzman


The G.O. Leadership Team has just finished with our planning retreat for 2010. We spent 3 days at Quills Coffee House in downtown Louisville and 4 days in a cabin in Southern Indiana working, planning and praying through what the next year of ministry will look like!

It’s an awesome privilege to work with these four people. Brook’s work and vision for G.O. created an amazing opportunity for Vicki and I nine years ago. Brook’s faithfulness to God’s leading made space for us to discover the width and depth of God’s Kingdom locally and globally. That global discovery has forever changed us. It changes how we understand life and ministry. It has completely reshaped how we understand the application of the Gospel in word and deed.

Nine years ago, again, because of Brook’s faithfulness to God’s leading, we got to meet and start working alongside of Tim Krauss and John Martinez, similarly, space was made for them to discover God’s passion for the people of the entire world. Sharing in that discovery and the work that has come from it has been one of the greatest blessings of mine and Vicki’s life. It is truly an honor and a joy to work alongside of them.

And now, together we make up the Leadership Team of G.O. Ministries. This places us in a position of great responsibility for the care of the ministry and the Staff. There are those who have had space made for them (and others who are coming) to make similar discoveries to our own and we now still have much to discover together as God reveals what he has for the future growth of G.O. Ministries.

I am small for the task and humbled by the reality that there is much expected of me and of us. Please commit to praying for the five of us (Brook, John, Tim, Vicki and Jeff) regularly, that our leadership be characterized by service to one another, love, grace and accountability and that God would grant us wisdom as we move forward over the coming year. Your prayers and your Partnership make you apart of this work too!

Dirt is Yucky: A Thanksgiving Meditation...

The morning after I posted "Dirt" Vicki was reading over the entry while Sophi and Raena were eating their breakfast. When Vicki started watching the news report on youtube Raena came over to watch the "movie." She saw the women mixing the dirt into mud and making patties. She asked Vic what they were doing. Vic explained that these people didn't have enough food to eat so they were making cookies out of dirt and feeding them to their children. Rae couldn't make sense of this at first but the reality quickly set in. I could barely hold it together when she started to express with concern, "Mommy, no! People don't eat dirt! That's for animals! Mommy no! That's yucky." She said some version of this four or five times.

I have a hard time telling this story without getting choked up. I'm choked up right now typing it out. You can read what she said but you can not hear the tone in her little voice... A tone that communicates an awareness that something is deeply wrong with this scenario. A four-year-old gets that this shouldn't be. It shocks her. She knows its wrong.

This offered up an opportunity to give Raena a glimpse into our work with G.O. Vicki told Raena that morning, "Raena, Mommy and Daddy go to work at the office because part of what we do is work so that children don't have to eat dirt." I'm still not sure what Rae makes of this but time will tell.

Sophi continued to eat her breakfast and appeared (as she often does in some educational environments) oblivious and disinterested. But she's a sneaky perceiver. She get's more than you'll ever know until she shows you. That night Vic got the girls down for bed and Sophi spontaneously prayed for the children who had to eat dirt cookies, that God would help them get food so they didn't have to do that anymore. Beautiful, from my other 4-year-old.

So these were the bookends to my day that day, a child's discovery of human desparation and a child's intuition to pray that it would cease. And tonight, before Thanksgiving, Sophi did it again, unprovoked, unencouraged, "God, please help the children that eat dirt; they don't have food. Give them food. Dirt is yucky."

So I'm choked up again. I'm grateful for both of my daughters' hearts, grateful for the work that Vicki and I share in, grateful for those that make our work possible, grateful that ultimately there is profound hope for the broken, marginalized and us. I'm thankful that we're blessed to be a blessing and that my daughters are arriving at the starting point of beginning to understand this. It took me over 20 years.

Dirt


Today a dear friend brought me a terrible and yet precious gift. I was surprised by the rush of emotion and anger that came on me upon receiving it, over something so simple... I was distraught and inspired by it at the same time.

Tim Krauss and John Martinez are my co-workers in the Gospel and co-leaders in our ministry along with Vicki and myself. John and Tim recently spent several days in Haiti, visiting with 5 of the 6 pastors G.O. works with there in their own communities. Tim has returned to Louisville for a few days and carried with him this small yet profound gift.

Tim came into my office today with a scrunched up clear plastic bag. At the bottom of the twisted mass was a sampling of dirt from the interior of Haiti. Tim had presented me with the actual dirt from the mountains of Haiti used to make dirt cookies, eaten by Haitian children and adults to stave off the pangs of hunger. He acquired the dirt in a Haitian market during his visit.

Now I have a few dried shards of this Haitian soil, originally bound for the gut of some child or adult sitting on a bookshelf in my office.

I’ve known for a long time about the reality of dirt cookies in Haiti. I’ve been to Haiti several times and witnessed some of the challenges there. But there is just something about the actual presence of this substance up close and personal that really brings the weight of the reality to bear on my heart. Tim gave me the dirt and I could instantly feel heat behind my eyes. It was hard, suddenly, to speak without getting choked up.

In my hands I felt what was clearly the food of desperation, a lie, told to the body that everything was ok, that it was, in fact, fed. In my hand was a mother’s hope to quench the suffering of her hungry child regardless of whether or not it actually meant anything.

But it does mean something… It means we are a broken humanity in need of profound healing. The existence of this “humanitarian crisis” points to the spiritual realities that make its existence possible. The reality of this kind of suffering means that I’ve got no right to complain about anything. However bad I may ever imagine things to be, it’s very unlikely that I’ll ever be feeding my daughters, Sophi and Raena, dirt. It means that as a Christian I can’t sit comfortably by and appreciate how “blessed” I am because I have stuff without remembering that the only reason I’m blessed in the first place is so that I can be a blessing to others. It means that I’m called to figure out what I can do to help make a difference because children in the Kingdom of God DO NOT EAT COOKIES MADE OF DIRT! And if they don’t eat them there they should not be eating them here!

Dirt cookies mean we’re in serious need of a savior. If we get a hold of Jesus Christ and let him get a hold of us he will begin to shape us into responders and engagers for the sake of the Kingdom. We’ll be angry about the things that anger him, we’ll celebrate what he celebrates and we will learn to be servants to all. If we learn, as brothers and sisters, to live up to the calling of what it really means to be the People of God, the true humanity, there will be less and less of this kind of thing, but only if its born of love, not guilt.

So this dirt sits on my shelf in my office. It tells me to guard against self-righteousness because whether I know it or not some of my economic practices help constitute this grim reality in Haiti just by virtue of my participation in everyday buying and selling. It tells me that making an effort to change those practices is an act of good faith and in line with redemption. It tells me to not forget the severity in which my Haitian brothers and sisters (and others like them) live. It tells me to pray for revival and renewal in the land. It tells me to take heart because our work with G.O. begins to address the issue of hunger in Haiti both with food aid and the Gospel. Lastly, these shards of dirt point me to the promise that a day is coming when all bellies will be filled from the banquet table of King Jesus when his reign over the world is universally revealed. Dirt will be for walking on and the mockery of the adversary will be silenced forever.

For those of you that support us through your prayers, your financial commitments, your use of our Kroger gift cards, thank you. Through this support you are at work in Haiti too, helping to bring the Gospel to bear on the challenges that exist there. You help to bear the hope we share leading to the Gospel transformation of entire communities.

The Rogers Family: Down in a "Hole"



Frequent flash flooding has finally taken the bridge down
Rather than tip toeing through the tulips... We're just trying NOT to step in sewage
This summer we felt that the girls were old enough to really experience the Hole for the first time. We had taken them to the church before but never explored the broader community with them. It was very special to walk with them through the neighborhood as a family for the first time. We stumbled into this kind of work and ministry (rather, God high-jacked us into it!), I can't imagine what it means to grow up with this kind of experiance being "normal" or "expected." Our prayer is that God shapes our girls into radical, committed servants, whatever shape it takes.
We helped out with the nutrition center on this day in addition to helping with children's ministry.
Raena and Soph passing in between houses
Hanging out with Dad by the river where the basketball court used to be before frequent flooding wiped it out

Vic takes time to love on a child from the nutrition center

Vic signs with Sophi during children's ministry
Sophi soaks up the children's ministry
Locals cross the river
Looking ahead



Clean Water...


Felix over-looking the Hole

Felix and Jenni Abreu serve the community of Hoya de Bartola or "the Hole" as it is rendered in English. It's a landfill community that has raw sewage contaminating the river that divides the barrio in two.

Recently, Jeff has had the opportunity to help coordinate the installation of a water purification system there. This reality came to be thanks to the efforts and colaboration of G.O. Ministries, Michael Ekman, St. Paul United Methodist Church and the Edge Outreach team.

Michael had served on a short-term team and spent some time in the Hole. When he got back to the states he wanted to do something to help make a difference there. He got in contact with Jeff and together they got the ball rolling.

In the developing world contaminated water kills regularly and without mercy. Before you can deal with the issue effectively you need to get the local community on board. Felix Abreu recognized the importance and benefit of clean water to the community that he has been serving for so long. When the offer was made to him for the system he jumped at the opportunity. He had a vision to use the purified water to supply the nutrition center he ran for 120 or so children in the Hole. He wanted to use the rest to help generate a little income to help run his ministry. Felix sells the extra purified water for less than half of what the big companies sell it for to meet his neighbors where they are at financially. In doing so he is helping offset the costs of doing ministry and avoiding the trap of entitlement.

It's taken some time to get this project complete. The first issue we faced was where to set it up. Thanks to St. Paul United Methodist we were able to purchase a house for $1500. The Edge sent a team down this summer to install the system. Michael Ekman's advocy helped bring those two agents together to help make this project happen and we are deeply grateful to him!


The house acquired with the help of St. Paul United Methodist Church in Louisville, Ky


Felix demonstrates the system to a visiting team

Felix tests the clorine level to insure a "total kill" of any creepy crawlys lingering in the agua










From the Dominican to Urban America...

Dee Dee (Norman's mom), Norman, Miss Pat and Gerard (our neighbors)

We serve the world with our work with G.O. Ministries. We're blessed to be involved in the inner city of Louisville, Ky where we currently live. Over the last two years we have developed a strong relationship with our next door neighbors and have had opportunities to serve them in some difficult circumstances.


We were asked to attend a memorial service on Miss Pat's grandson's birthday at the corner where he was shot and killed. I was asked to take photos for the family. Such an unfortunate reality for so many who live in the inner city. While I was taking photos for the family a single mother approached me and asked if I could do the same thing for her later in the year, a few blocks away where her son had also been murdered. So much darkness... and yet, so much light. There is hope here and the enemy has no option save retreat. It's only a matter of time...

Crosspoint, again!


Crosspoint Church is an awesome story to tell. It's one that's deeply connected with Morgantown and our marriage. When we were in college it was Pete Wilson who discipled Jeff and he and his wife Brandi who were instrumental in getting us together. Pete planted Morgantown with Harold Mckee who later came down on an exploratory trip with us and lead Morgantown to get invested in our work. What we have is an elaborate web of shared and meaningful relationships. It's truly amazing to sit back and see how God has drawn the threads of our lives together for the sake of his Kingdom in such a variety of ways. And the relationships that we share continue to lead to new, amazing relationships.

Crosspoint came down to continue their work on a Haitian church they are building for Moise, a Haitian pastor that they partner with. The team leaders for the summer trip were Blake and Ally Bergstrom. It was truly an honor to get to know this couple and introduce them to our ministry.

Jeff, Blake and Moise discuss Haitian ministry in the Dominican Republic
Blake was new to G.O. and new to Moise. We had lots of great conversations as we got acquainted with each other and life and ministry in the Dominican Republic. It was great to see Blake connect with Moise and share in ministry in the community in which we are building the church. Dominicans are deeply suspicious and prejudiced against Haitians (this is putting it mildly). We were able to help support Moise's work and build credibility for his ministry as we explored the neighborhood with him and invited Dominicans to up coming ministry events later in the week. It's foolish and fallen that the presence of Americans would cast Moise in a better light than if he did this by himself. Even so, it is an honor to be at Moise's service for the sake of his ministry.
Moise feels that God has laid it on his heart to use this church building as a hub for raising up Haitian church planters. His desire is to help plant over 100 churches in Haiti from leadership developed in this church over the years to come, an endeavor worthy of a lifetime of effort. We're fortunate and blessed to be a part of it!

A Week With Morgantown


We LOVE Morgantown Community Church! They are one of the craziest, most driven short-term teams we have ever seen. Scott Cox and Harold and Sherry Mckee have busted their tails to help their folks raise the funds to come and serve in the Dominican Republic. Morgantown supports our work financially and we are so appreciative of their help! During their week they helped us dig and pour the foundation for a pastor's home in Santiago. They also got to spend a lot of time developing a relationship with Romano, a Haitian pastor who is a dear friend of ours. Our hope is that sometime in the near future that Morgantown will start supporting him financially as well. We are hoping to get their pastor, Josh Scott, down on an exploratory trip this January.

Here Vicki is throwing it down and working like a wild woman! She spent some time working with the Morgantown crew. Little did we know at the time that this lady was doing the work of two. We found out the next day that in a few months she would look like this:
And just so you know, we recently found out that the "pumpkin smuggler" is actually daughter number 3 of the Rogers' clan!
Much love and thanks to Morgantown! We love doing life and building the Kingdom with you!




Back in the DR...


This summer we were able to spend a month with the entire family in the Dominican Republic. As has become our habit, the girls spent their 4th birthday there among there Dominican and Haitian friends. During our near 4 week stay we helped facilitate an audiology clinic with Pathways Community Church, a youth team from Southeast Christian Church, Crosspoint Church and Morgantown Community Church. Each of these teams represent awesome partners in ministry and dear friends.
Here Sophi and Raena are hanging with Tony Krauss. We were fortunate to stay with his parents, Tim and Samira, the entire time we were in the DR. They are beloved friends and co-workers at G.O. Ministries.
The girls very much enjoyed their "Princess" party with all of their Dominican/gringo friends.
Audiology Clinic
Vicki was fortunate to be able to help out with our second audiology clinic. It was a tremendous blessing for her to help some children and adults hear clearly for the first time. It was also difficult to treat children who had gone 10 to 12 years without hearing or having any language base at all. Sign language is a resource that not many who need it have in the Dominican Republic or Haiti. Imagine if your ability to communicate was reduced to a crude for of charades your entire life. This reveals a significant need in the Dominican and Haiti to those of us that take hearing for granted. We're praying about what opportunities this might provide G.O. Ministries to serve in the future.
Dr. Rosario takes some patients...
Adults and children waiting in line at the clinic.
A little girl waits her turn at the hearing clinic.
Dominican audiology students making ear molds.
The Dominican Republic does not have an audiology program. The only audiologist living and serving the Dominican full time is an Austrailian Christian who teaches in Santo Domingo. By the grace of God we have connected with her and worked together in two clinics now. She is training students to be audiologists though they can not yet recieve any kind of certification as it does not exist on the island. We're fortunate to have her help in this endeavor!
Conducting a hearing test or crude audiogram.

An Unwelcome Opportunity to Serve Part II: Vicki's Account

In the City
When we moved back to the states we wanted to be intentional neighbors. We had grown accustomed to living in the city in Santiago and naturally wanted to find something similar in Louisville. I thought we would move where there was a high Hispanic population because we were accustomed to that culture and language; however, our hearts were drawn to Shelby Park. And so began our journey for city life. I grew up in a very small town so this was more of a stretch for me than I realized.

We began a relationship with our neighbors. Thanks to off street parking we exchanged hellos frequently outside. Ms. Pat was a God send. She’s the matriarch of her family and we’ve had the privilege to meet many of her family members of the last year and half we’ve lived her. She realizes I’m a small town girl and has proven to be a great resource to teach me about city life. At every opportunity, we’ve tried to serve, but one recent day made neighbors family as we fell into the trenches and mourned together.

We were gardening in our backyard as the girls played in the dirt and I chatted with a neighbor. I’ll never forget the sound of panic in Ms. Pat’s voice as she ran into our backyard yelling for Jeff. Her grandson had been shot and Jeff raced her, DeeDee (the boy’s mother) and his sister to the hospital. Norman died before his friends could get him there. As we sat in her kitchen that night surrounded by grief ridden family members, her son explained that Little Norm was shot in the back by one of his friends over a moped.

Shelby Park

I returned home with an overwhelmed and troubled heart. A young man was shot and killed a block from where our City Group meets each week for dinner and prayer a month ago. Some fellow Christians in the neighborhood were robbed by gunpoint in their own backyard over the weekend. On Monday night, our City Group prayer walked the neighborhood. Fifteen minutes after we left the park, a woman was shot and killed while she sat on a park bench near the playground where dozens of children were innocently swinging, laughing and playing. And one night later, Norman was gone. I tried to make sense of how people could take a life so quickly. It was senseless. I remembered the faces of Little Norm’s friends and brothers. Their eyes were dark with grief, blazing with bitterness, hungry for revenge and justice. I cried out to God for our neighborhood. For peace. For unity. For reconciliation.


Over the next few days we made some phone calls and began taking meals over to the family. We enjoyed sweet time with them as we learned more about Little Norman’s life. We put a slideshow together of photos that revealed Norman was the baby of the family, the comedian who kept everyone laughing, a charmer with a warm smile, and a boy with dreams to become a man. He was only 17. He was scheduled to graduate in May, he had been accepted to KY State University, and a coupon for his senior prom tuxedo has arrived in the mail that day and lay on the coffee table surrounded by his photos and candles.

His mom walked us to the car that evening and shared a story that brought me to my knees. Little Norm had been in a lot of trouble as a kid. He had just been out of juvenile detention for 14 days when he was murdered. She said he had changed when he came home, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Then, she found a journal. He had written out a beautiful prayer to God asking forgiveness and direction as he felt called to be a pastor. His last words in his journal were “Lord, preserve me”. His mom wept in hope for her son’s changed heart but despair as she recalled his last words to her minutes before he was shot, “Mom, I’m coming home.”

At the vigil, family, friends, and the news media surrounded the scene. His brother walked away in deep grief. His mother could not even attend. Christopher 2x encouraged the kids against anger and towards self control. I was frustrated. Those were symptoms, but the problem was deeper. The problem was pride and not striving for hope and peace in a Savior above ourselves. We continued to the wake and were overwhelmed by the number of people and deep grief of so many young people. I prayed silently, “Oh Hope, come and rescue us”. A fight broke out right after we left. They locked everyone inside the funeral home. Someone broke their jaw, some kids had a gun. The police came. Where was Peace?

I sat during the funeral looking at a young man dressed in white surrounded by flowers. I longed for Hope to be restored to these young lives. For another Way to do life. For them to know they are valued and to learn to value others. To understand they were made in the image of their all powerful God as were their enemies. A pastor spoke about Little Norm approaching him at the detention center. Little Norm wanted to change. He felt a deep purpose in his life that he had never experienced before. Then another pastor read Little Norm’s journal prayer as his eulogy. He said Little Norm was a leader and that was evident by the number of people at the funeral. He told them Little Norm was leading them now towards a different life, a life of hope over hopelessness, peace over violence, love over hate. He encouraged them to follow his lead and in a matter of five minutes, Norman’s two brothers, his uncle and nearly 10 friends walked to the casket and committed their lives to a new way of life in Christ.




"No Outlet?" Not Necessarily...

After such a hopeless week, I was overwhelmed by God’s mercy. I looked across the room and I didn’t see gang members, troubled kids, hopeless family members…I saw image bearers of an almighty God who had engraved each of them on His heart. Peace had been planted, we were unified in purpose, and reconciliation was beginning to take root.

An Unwelcome Opportunity to Serve Part I: Jeff's Account


We’ve been living in Shelby Park (a neighborhood in the inner city of Louisville) over a year or so. It’s been our pleasure and our privilege to be befriended by our next door neighbors. Cultivating that relationship has taken some time and care. We’ve kept our eyes open for subtle ways to serve and show love whenever we can. Tuesday night, March 24th, brought an unwelcome opportunity to serve.

Vicki and I, the girls and another neighborhood friend were in the backyard while I was getting our garden bed ready. I heard Ms. Pat calling from the side yard on the other side our gate to the privacy fence. “Jeff! Jeff! Can you do me a huge favor! I need a ride to the hospital. My grandson’s been shot!”

“Absolutely! Let’s go!” I ran into the house and snatched up my keys and my cell phone, told Vic I’d be careful and we were on our way. We needed to swing by Shelby St. a few blocks down and pick up Ms. Pat’s daughter (her grandson’s mother). I pulled up and Deedee and another woman with a baby hopped in the back seat. We were on our way headed down Broadway. Deedee had somewhat of a cool head about her. The younger woman was in hysterics. I wasn’t sure what her relationship was to the rest of the family. At this point all that I knew was that the boy had been shot. In the chaos of cell phone calls, yelling and screaming I was able to find out that the kid’s name was Norm, that he was 17 and was asked not to go down to Victory Park that night on the corner of 23rd and Kentucky.

As I’m driving down Broadway it’s as though I’m watching myself with this family in some kind of tragic documentary. Deedee is directly behind me on the phone with the young men that are with her son. As we are driving to Norton’s ER they are coming from the opposite direction. Norm is in the back seat bleeding, unresponsive. Deedee starts to yell into the cell phone at whoever is with her son (one of his friends). “Where the hell are you?! Get the f*** to the f****** emergency room! Is he breathing!? What the f*** do you mean you don’t know?! Get to the f****** emergency room!” I listen to the conversation cycle through the same content, over and over again. This mother in despair desiring nothing more than to be beside her son hoping that he is ok but knowing that he is not, fearing that he won’t be, stretched like a wire between hope and despair. I could hear her cycle through grief, hope, rage & regret just wanting to know something for sure.

Ms. Pat, stable, calm, a rock, she is the matriarch or her family and the foundation. She lights a cigarette and rolls down the window. It’s clear that she is trying to take the edge off of herself to be who she needs to be for her daughter and grandchildren in this moment. She interrupts the phone call occasionally, asking for clarification of what few details are known, telling everyone to calm down until we know something for sure.

The entire drive, brief though it was, I was just praying God’s peace on this family and to let Norm make it.

We arrived. Norton’s ER entrance comes off the street and then goes down below street level. You have to drive back up to get out. At the top of that hill was the green car Norm was driven in. EMS was parked up there along w/police who were taping off the car. They had just beaten us there. Ms. Pat and Deedee were out of the car. The young mother I did not know got out of the car and collapsed in the driveway. I found out later that this was Norm’s sister. The baby was in the car in the car seat that was unattached. An ER nurse came out. The sister was lying in the only open lane for other EMS units to use. I helped the nurse get her up off of the ground and walked her into the waiting room to sit down.

No updates on Norm. The entire family began to show up over the next 20 minutes. At one point Ms. Pat asked me if I could take the baby home with me and keep him until they got done at the hospital but before I could leave he started fussing so they kept him. I stayed for a while and offered whatever help I could back at their house. When it became clear that there was nothing left that I could do to help I made sure they had may cell number and said they could call for anything at anytime, that I was praying that Norm would pull through.

I had to back out of the ER entrance because the exit was blocked. This required that I pull around the corner where the green car was parked, where the family had now gathered near the police and the witnesses that brought Norm in to find out what information they could. By now the sister that I had helped to the waiting area was there with the rest of the family and a crowd of onlookers were on the other side of the street. As I drove by I saw the family in my rearview mirror. They seemed to respond to something… the sister collapsed on the ground… “He didn’t make it,” I thought.

I pulled over and parked, walked back to the opposite corner where the crowd was gathered. I asked a guy looking over to the other side, “What just happened?”
He confirmed what I already knew. “They just told that family that their kid was dead.”

“ That was my next door neighbor’s grandson.”

“Sorry man.”

“Yeah… me too.” I walked back to the car and called Vic with the news.

I prayed for their family all the way home. I prayed for this neighborhood. The day before I was praying in Shelby Park with our City Group and my family and left the park with them anywhere from 10 to 15 minutes before a woman was shot to death on a park bench in broad daylight with children around. I was angry with our Enemy. I sensed that whatever all of these events were that they were at least in part the forces over this neighborhood baring their teeth at those of us who feel called here to be servants of the Kingdom. I am thankful to God that my family was not intimidated by these happenings and my prayer is that other Christians in the neighborhood are not either. If we are Christians our presence makes a difference. Rev. Lincoln Bingham has said that if we are Christians when we walk into a room or a community God shows up. We need him to show up. For his people and for this city, every part of it.

This violence so close to home was not the peace for my neighbors that I have been praying for. But what I don’t know is who might have been spared that might not have been… What I did know is that my family had an opportunity to be what peace there could be even in the face of such violence and sinfulness. We would spend the coming days loving this family in whatever ways they would allow us. And what God opened up for us was amazing ways to come alongside of this family in their grief. We were given opportunity after opportunity to care for them deeply, we were able to call upon our brothers and sisters at Sojourn and Southeast to come alongside too and they did. And we were able to witness some amazing ways in which God was already at work in this situation in a variety of powerful ways. Vicki will comment on some of that in the next post.

I do not pretend to know what God is up to in the face of such tragedy or through it. What I do know is that if we claim Christ as Lord we must train our eyes to view tragedy and suffering redemptively. We serve a God that turns death into life. Where ever we see death we should look for ways in which life might take root, embrace it and encourage it in Jesus’ name for the sake of the Kingdom, may it come.

G.O. Explore Jan 26-30

Jeff, Chris, Felix, Jacob and Brook

From January 26th through the 30th I had the opportunity to lead an Exploratory trip with Brook, hosting Jacob Breeze and Chris Denbow from Grace Christian Church near Houston, Texas. We shared some great ministry experiences over the course of our 3 ½ days. The trip has proven to be very successful on many fronts. This year we have made some adjustments to our approach of encouraging the national Christian leaders. At an all pastor meeting we rolled out a plan to be more intentional in investing in the pastors and leaders of the various churches we are networked with. The vision was received with a lot of enthusiasm.


The Entire Dominican G.O. Leadership

We discovered in Jacob a quality theologian and teacher. He and I will be working together regularly to coordinate and translate training materials for our pastors and leaders. He will also be bringing his students down regularly starting this summer.

Thanks to an engineering class that came down on a trip with us this past year from Evansville University, we had the opportunity to reveal the blue prints and 3 D virtual model of the new Central Church that we will begin construction on this Spring. The Dominican and Haitian leadership is very excited about getting this project up and running. Once the first level is complete we will be able to move forward with the medical facility that will stand on the location of the current out grown, church building.


Jeff, Jordy, Jacob, Tats and the Gospel

While in the Hole with Jacob and Chris, I ran into our deaf friend, Jordy, at the nutrition center. Jordy drew my attention to Jacob’s tattooed arm. I signed for Jordy to come with me for a closer look.

"The Lamb that was slain..." The lamb is at the top of the arm, the skeletons rising are bodies being resurrected

I signed to him the significance of Jacob’s tattoo which essentially was an image drawn from the doxology in Revelation: “The Lamb that was slain is worthy to be praised.” I explained that the lamb was Jesus and that the skeletons floating up were each of us being resurrected. He nodded with a big smile. I don’t know how clearly he understood it but the visual was a tremendous help in trying to connect these ideas. It was a great part of the day. The week was a tremendous blessing all the way around.

Giving Jacob a tour of the current Central Church and future site of our medical facility


Felix discusses the future on the ministry in the Hole with me



Kids in the Hole



*all of the photos in this post are by Chris Denbow