Of ganja and the Gospel....

We just wrapped up a very busy week of ministry here in Jamaica. It was our privilege to host a team from the Gospel Baptist Church in Greensboro. This is a team we have been anxiously anticipating all year since they first came down and did a survey trip with us in January. Although not originally one of our supporting churches, our hearts have been knit with them in a true burden for Jamaica.

It all started for them several years ago (before we ever arrived here) when they did a mission venture here with a nondenominational ministry group. They started (right out of the gate!) working with the area of Canterbury......what the locals perceive as "the least, the last, and the lost". We know that is not how we or our Lord perceives them. Through work projects and ministry teams, God placed in them an unquenchable desire to make a difference in this somewhat forgotten community.

The work of the Lord in Canterbury, and all over our island, began this trip long before they ever arrived at the airport. They had lots of fundraisers, meetings, and organizational sessions. Lots of time was put into preparing their hearts before their feet were ever engaged. One of the great things they did was by giving each member a copy of the book "Reckless Faith" (a must read) and also a prayer journal to follow while here. With that kind of preparation, their hearts were well prepared for their journey.

Our arrival in Canterbury was quite warm. Since this group has had an ongoing relationship with the Canterburians, there was no sign of animosity or distrust. (The Montegonians will tell you not to enter Canterbury....that the danger and animosity is too risky) Old faces (that I personally only met in January) were there to greet us with open arms. Although the strong smell of ganja (marijuana) and Red Stripe (our local beer) were overwhelming at times, the love extended to us was unbelievable. It makes me think of Christ...who lovingly met everyone at their point of need. It is not for us to clean them up....it is up to the Holy Spirit. It is only for us to LOVE them.

Every day started with a soft touch. Painting nails, playing ball, and engaging in conversation. I had the privilege to sit and talk with "bald head" (or maybe it was "ball-head?) who never wears a shirt and is covered (and I'm not exaggerating) with scars from gunshots and stab wounds. He seems to be somewhat of a leader in this troubled area, though he swears to me that he is not in a gang. We talk about gunshots, stabbings, close encounters with death....and Christ. Like so many, he acknowledges his need but feels God really can't love him. It is quite difficult to convey a loving, caring God to a people who are so destitute and don't feel so loved by Him. It is one little seed though....planted in hard soil for sure. Only God can make the increase for him. My other precious encounter is with "Bepop" (or maybe "Bebop"?) who is a quite elderly resident that lives in complete squalor at the front of the community. While Kelly Miller goes into sweep, mop, and sanitize his humble residence, I sit on his porch and we sing together. He just keeps singing Jamaican gospel choruses, one right after the other. I have the privilege to sit and sing along...and harmonize with one of the sweetest sounds I have ever heard. He is blind so he can't see me, but in between songs he asks lots of questions about me. Who knows what his image of me is in his head. I hope it is the image of a simple girl who loves him unconditionally and I pray he sees God in me. Somewhere along the line Bepop got a good dose of the gospel and I pray His name is written down in Heaven......cuz I sure would love to sing around the throne with him someday.

Lesson time is a challenge. Pastor Luttrell starts out with gospel magic. Since Jamaicans are somewhat superstitious, they are in awe of these simple lessons in magic. The young (tough) guys all sit at a table off to the side. This 16-30 age is where we are losing ground in Jamaica. I watch them closely....and they are REALLY paying attention. The entire time Pastor and Mrs. Luttrell are teaching there are people, goats, dogs, and babies just running all over the place. God still moves! Precious little souls raise their hands for salvation....and big tough guys motion for Pastor to come over to their table. They want to know how he does his tricks! He begins to show them and now they want to try. As he hands them the objects, they open their hands to receive.....and they have to drop the ganja (marijuana) they have been holding on to so tightly. What a picture of what Christ does. He takes all those worldly things we grasp so vigorously and He fills that void with HIMSELF! After Pastor Paul has answered questions, our sweet Andrew gives his testimony of God rescuing him from the ravages of alcohol and brokenness. He then spends the next few minutes answering their questions from the Bible. They listen intently...he is after all a Jamaican and has walked where they now walk. I am once again reminded of why we are here.....to fill these young Pastors with the word and train them to reach their own people. Some of them accept Christ that day. More seed dropped into all kinds of soil.

The last effort in Canterbury was to give food and clothing....to put the gospel in shoe leather. We can say it all we want...but until they see Christ's love in action all our words are in vain. There was a virtual stampede for the goodies.....desperate people do desperate things. Though I can't say it went down the way we had planned, God knew it all along. Food was delivered, feet that were bare now have shoes, and we were all blessed to be a part of it!

My heart is full looking back on our time there. Not a day goes by that I don't think of those precious people there and thank God for Gospel Baptist Church and their love for the downtrodden. They left a part of themselves here, but most of all they left the message of Christ. So, what do you think? I think it was an awesome trade off.......the shackles of ganja for the salvation of the gospel! That's what missions is all about.

This has been the ramblings of one tired Jamerican.....SELAH!

Shout to the Lord....

SHOUT TO THE LORD, ALL THE EARTH LET US SING; POWER AND MAJESTY, PRAISE TO THE KING!! These are the words we heard resounding from our congregation of 91 at our launch service for Bay Life Baptist Church of Bogue Village, Montego Bay. Apart from the laughter of my grandchildren, it might possibly be the sweetest sound I have ever heard. After years of planning, months of canvassing, and hours of prayer, our new baby church was born. In our congregation of 91 were 13 children, 62 adults from our community, and 16 Americans from our team in North Carolina. We were both packed out in our little room and simultaneously overwhelmed with God's incredible goodness to us.

For those who don't know, Bay Life Baptist Church was conceived in our hearts back in 2007 when we first felt God calling us into full time missions. Little did we know then, but God had already burdened Harvest Baptist Church of Burlington, NC several years earlier with the need to plant a church in the greater Montego Bay area. They had been working with a Jamaican national for quite some time who had committed to come alongside and plant this church. When he switched gears and took an existing church in Kingston, we were there to work with them. Fourteen of their membership arrived here last Tuesday to help us do one last blitz in the Bogue Village community before having our launch service yesterday. As a result of their work in canvassing and the blood pressure clinic done on Saturday, eight souls were won to Christ before our launch service yesterday. God is so good!

In typical fashion, when 10:00 starting time rolled around yesterday morning, we only had a handful of people at church. As we began the service with the singspiration of Jamaican choruses there was a steady stream of people filing in. By the time our praise and worship portion was over the place was packed! We had to move all of our visiting team and some of our core group team out into the hallway. When we dismissed children for childrens church, thirteen children followed our workers out. As Cletis preached from John chapter one "Turn on the Light" there was full attention and even interaction from the congregation. The invitation was given and a stream of people filed out into the hall to be counselled by our leadership. A final tally showed six decisions for salvation and an equal amount for rededication. One mommy was even born again in childrens church as she listened to our leadership give the gospel to the children in very simple terms. As you can imagine, our hearts are overflowing.

Continue to pray for our core group of leaders who have embarked on this adventure with us. Pray for God to protect them from the evil one and keep them strong in their christian walk. Pray for our community, Bogue Village. It is a middle class community with large numbers of single mommies and couples who live together but are not married. Some of them came to Christ yesterday. Pray that the Holy Spirit will mature them and they will be obedient to following what Christ has now called them to do. There will be a series of messages given on the gospel of John and then Romans. Sound doctrine is so necessary here. Pray that God will sustain us in this mission...this is definitely a stretch for us.

For future needs....we are going to need a building and maybe sooner than we think. Our little room is already packed. There is a parcel of land for sale right beside the unit we now rent. We are praying for God to give us that land. Please make this a matter of fervent prayer. We are seeing Him do great things here....and we know that nothing is impossible with God.

Thank you for holding our arms up. We feel it every day. The challenges here are many and sometimes completely overwhelming. We know we can count on you to pray.

This has been a very excited rambling from one very tired Jamerican.....SELAH!

I'm a little scared.....

My husband and I began a journey three years ago that ultimately landed us in a country not of our birth, with a house not our own, and completely and utterly "family-less".( All our kids are grown and we left them all behind) When we started out, it seemed kinda like a piece of cake. Aside from traveling all the time and ministering in churches across the eastern United States, life was basically normal. But....once we disembarked that airplane on August 20, 2009, life was forever changed. For two sort of aging adults, it has been a wild ride....and yes, I am scared.
One of the first fears I had to learn to face was safety. Coming from Greensboro, NC (where we in fact seldom ever even locked our doors) to Montego Bay, Jamaica (where we are completely enclosed behind locked bars) was indeed a shock to the system. What is forever etched in my mind is what our dear Jamaican friend Hazel Dalley said to us before we moved here. She cried and she actually begged and pleaded with us not to come. She said "You will be killed...doon move here; only just come in and out like ya brudda Dusty....doon move here." We were humbled by her concern but completely oblivious to the truth of her statement. After living here you realize that you must always be aware of the inherent dangers. As my doctor here also told me...."it is indeed very easy to die in Jamaica; please be careful". Just driving here puts your life in danger. If you have ever been here, you know what I am talking about. There is little respect for human life...and every day I am here I realize it more. Crime is rampant and hearing gunshots has become our new normal. Robbery is commonplace, and we have already fallen victim to it. And yes...I am scared.

The second thing I am scared about is my health. It seems like the girl who got off that airplane 13 months may never be quite the same. After battling whatever the disease was last December, my body is struggling to recover. Some days I don't much notice the difference and other days I feel it in every step. I just keep talking to my Father and telling him about it and asking for his grace and then I talk to myself about pressing on. That's what we do as God followers....we press on in this race til we reach that ultimate finish line. But yes, I am scared.

My third fear is just a mom thing. I am scared of being separated from my children and grandchildren. After all, what are moms and Nena's for if not to be there to patch things all up again? I never realized how hard it would be to be an ocean away from our children and grandchildren. It's funny how just a hug from your son or daughter, or snuggles from your grandkids can make any day seem alright. It is equally amazing how a day can feel so wrong when you don't have that privilege. (Some days I even fret that my grandbabies won't really know me) We are a close family and this year has stretched us all in our faith and in our trust in God to take care of each other across the miles. Does that make sense....because I feel it in a very real way.

My biggest fear is failure. The task for us here is monumental. We are following God's leading here to plant a church in Montego Bay. Truth is, we have never planted a church before. We are both children of church planters, but now WE are the ones doing the planting. Down here that involves a lot of learning the culture, tilling the soil, and work, work, work. One big difference here is that you can't leave anything in the church after service. Although our meeting room is gated and barred we have to keep everything here in our home, load it up every Sunday morning, unload it and set it up before church, tear it all down after service, load it back in the work van, and unload it back into our house. If we leave it there, it will be stolen. This is a foreign concept for most of us in the USA as we just lock and unlock the buildings and turn everything on. It requires an enormous amount of work here. We are also constantly trying to strike a balance between cultures. We don't want to start an American church here but we also see the rut that so many of our struggling churches here are in. It is a tough task. Immorality is huge here. We have an 85% illegitimate birth rate...and it appears to be quite accepted. Developing a strong male leadership base is one of the most difficult things to do in our culture in Jamaica. As a result, women have taken roles that scripture defines as for a man. Do you see the enormity of the task? And yes, I am scared of failure.
These days I say aloud scripture about being strong and courageous. (Isn't it funny how all the little Cubbie and Sparkie verses rush in when you really need them?) In my head I know that God will never leave me nor forsake me, or leave me high and dry...but sometimes I have to remind my fearful heart of that. When sheer loneliness sets in, I CRY out to Jesus. In those moments where there is sheer joy in our ministry, I SING out to Jesus. When those little fears come creeping in, I am learning to rest in Jesus. After all, God is bigger than the "boogey man", the rasta man, and the FEAR of man.
This is just another rambling of one very tired (and sometimes scared) Jamerican......SELAH!!

Baby, Baby!!

Oh baby, baby. Words that are music to a "Nena's" ears. Aside from having my own children many years ago, I can't think of anything I find more exciting than welcoming a new little grandchild into the world.

On July 3oth we were blessed to welcome Macey Cooper Allen into our family. She is the daughter of our oldest daughter Stefanie and her husband Mike. She is also the little sister of Parker Titus Allen who is now six years old. She is, of course, completely gorgeous and the spitting image of her mommy. So tiny, so perfect, and so precious. Ahhh.....I get all excited just talking about her!

I have been blessed to be able to stay in the states for this month to help Stef with the baby. (Ain't that what mommies are for??) Because Stef has been very sick with an infection, I have actually had the opportunity to spend alot of quality time with Macey and even pull my fair share of the third shift. My favorite thing to do in the wee hours of the night is to lay her down beside me and just lay there and stare at her while she sleeps. Of course....there's a whole lotta kissin' goin' on too!

I am realizing all over again how needy and helpless a newborn child is. They are absolutely dependent on us for everything....they can't even wipe their own dribble chin for heaven's sake. If left unattended, they will absolutely lay right in one place and never move unless someone comes along to help them. If we don't feed them, they will absolutely starve. They've no capacity to fend for themselves. If we don't change their diapers they are doomed to lay in their own squalor with no hope of a clean up taking place. They are the best definition I know of total dependence.

My husband and I have now been blessed to have two new births into the Titus family in 2010. Our grandson Caleb Titus was born in May and now Macey just three weeks ago.....but we are not done yet!! We are about to witness the birth of our first Jamaican child. Her name is Bay Life Baptist Church and her due date is October 3, 2010. She will be born in the Bogue Village (pictured at the top of this page) in Montego Bay and her birth will be attended by several Jamaican families and two American missionary families who are already absolutely in love with her. She has been in the works for several years in our hearts and we have spent the last year planning for her, telling everyone we know about her, and getting her room ready. There are no words to describe just how excited (and somewhat anxious) we are as we anticipate her arrival. We are praying that God will go before us in this birth process just as He has for our grandchildren .We are bracing ourselves for the initial newborn "total dependence" phase. We know there will be sleepless nights, added financial responsibility, lots of spiritual food to prepare, and yes....plenty of "diapers to change". BUT, WITH GOD'S HELP.....WE ARE UP TO THE TASK!

We have a birth announcement all prepared and would love to send it out to anyone who sends us their e-mail address. We even listed some of the new items we will need to meet the needs of this new addition in our lives and we are sure God will provide for all of them through His people. He has never let us down yet!

Please pray for the upcoming special event and for all the families who are anticipating being a part of this special day. And ALWAYS, ALWAYS....remember your missionaries in Jamaica. You know, Cletis and Tammy Titus....those 2 Tired Jamericans! This has been the rambling of one of those tired Jamericans....SELAH!!

All things new.....

It is spring in North Carolina. The grass is as green as I have ever seen it....perhaps that is because I rarely see pretty green grass anymore. Everything is in bloom..and my itchy eyes alert me to that each day. There are budding flowers and signs of new life everywhere. New Life....nothing better. I arrived back in North Carolina on Mothers Day and just in time for the birth of our third grandchild, Caleb Joshua Titus. He is 6 lbs 11 oz of pure preciousness-sent straight from Heaven. (Think I'm kiddin'? Check out the attached picture!) He is also the spitting image of his daddy, our oldest son Randy. He is of course beautiful....and a reminder of all things new. A brand new little human miracle from God. The day he was born we also realized that there were four more new additions born on the Titus property. As Hailey (Caleb's big sister) and I were swinging on the front porch swing that evening, we noticed four little baby birds had hatched in their nest in the bush beside the front porch. We snuck over and peeked in to see four little featherless chicks just chirping away for their mommy to return with their meal for the day. (I captured the moment in an awesome picture) It was a teachable moment as Hailey and I talked about what a great God we have, the God that not only gave us Caleb out of mommy's tummy that morning, but also the God that gave us new life in the four little baby birds all snuggled up in their nest. Each day since then we always stop to sneak a peek at the growing baby birds and marvel at our great God's creation. Something so simple, yet so profound. A creator that gives us little baby Titus'es is the same creator that gives us little baby birds....and He loves and cares for us all.

This is just another rambling of one tired Jamerican.....SELAH

Drat those expectations....

One of the biggest, weightiest words I know of is the word expectation. It means something different to every individual. My expectations are not your expectations. The trouble with that word is another really hefty word called REALITY. Joyful is the occasion when your expectation and your reality are one and the same.
I came to Jamaica with huge expectations. Maybe the worst thing for me was that I thought my expectations were based on my realities. For starters, I grew up in the Caribbean. I was a glad participant in it's culture for the first thirteen years of my life. I really thought I had a grasp on what it was like to live in the Caribbean.When you are an MK growing up on a tropical island, every day is an adventure. Second, I had been to Jamaica many times on short term missions ventures, years ago, and really thought that the Jamaica I remembered from the late '80's was still the Jamaica of 2009. The Jamaicans were oh so gracious to us when we here back in those days. The children were eager to hear the Word of God, and you could roam the streets after dark with nary a worry. Third, I knew that I would be living in another country, separated from my kids and grandkids, but after all, it really isn't that far away. I could be home in three hours by airplane. It didn't take very long for my realities to slap my expectations right up side the head. I very quickly learned that some Jamaicans truly love you, another segment is completely indifferent to you, and the rest of them flat out hate you and what you stand for. I can't stand in the Red Cross line barefoot with my sister anymore waiting for bags of dried milk to devour. Nor can I play my life away at the beach. You see, the things my parents did while I was busy being a carefree little girl, I am now doing. It ain't always fun. Just driving to the grocery store here can be an adventure. I have sort of decided I probably shouldn't drive anywhere that I can't safely walk back home from. Between mechanical issues and vehicle theft.....I maybe using those two feet of mine to hoof it back home. And about those kids we used to come minister to back in the '80's. They've all grown up now and somewhere along the way they lost their ability to teach their own children respect and good polite behavior. (sounds alot like the USA, huh?) Now it takes a group of us just to keep the peace long enough to teach a Bible story all the way through without a major interruption. So very sad. And lest I be so hard on the kids, they learn from example. When the parents blatantly disregard traffic laws and disrespect authority, haven't we then set our children up for disaster? Just sayin'. And about the distance thing. The reality is that there is no substitute for the peace of mind of knowing I could just get in the car and drive to where my kids are a few miles away. None of them are really all that close and I miss them more and more each day. The heart just aches sometimes.
So what do I do with all these unreal expectations? For me it has involved a daily laying of them at the Lord's feet. There are days I really feel His peace and others that I spend all day searching for it. The older I get the more I need His peace. What about these stark realities? I just keep reminding myself that it was a real mom who bore a real Jesus who died on a real tree and died a real death. He even KNEW his reality ahead of time and asked if it would be possible to pass on it and do it some other way. I think I ask that question quite often frankly. So....Drat those expectations and a big bah humbug to realities.
These are the most sincere and honest ramblings of a very tired Jamerican.....SELAH.

Tiefs and Taxes

Couldn't resist this one. We have actually been robbed twice in one month! Most of you know by now that on Saturday March 20th, around three a.m., we were robbed. Though we live in a house that is encased in locked bars (Jamaicans call it a "grilled" house), a burglar slipped through a six inch opening on our front porch while we slept, and made off with about $750 worth of our stuff. This included my purse, my husband's phone, our camera, and my laptop computer. Fortunately, we were in our room and there was no altercation involved. Another blessing was that we had Cletis'es school computer in the bedroom with us, or it would have been gone too. We awoke on Saturday morning to find the window open and all of our belongings that could fit through that small six inch gap gone. It was a sinking feeling to say the least. Robbery is common in Jamaica so it was not a complete shock to us that it happened. Though these things are missed, they are just that....THINGS. You would think that to be enough, right? Believe it or not, we were robbed again today on April 8th while sitting in our daughter and son-in-laws home in Orlando, Florida. This time we lost over $2,000 of cold, hard earned cash! So much for the safety and security of the USA, huh?! To beat it all, it was a relative that took it from us. His name is UNCLE SAM! After much wrangling, crunching numbers, and profuse sweating, our federal taxes show we owe over $2000 because we have to declare all that outfit and passage money spent on vehicles we bought for our use in Jamaica as income. Our own uncle doesn't even care that we had a little over $15,000 of medical expenses this past year. I have never seen an uncle seem so calloused and cold towards our predicament. So, yes my friend. We have been robbed twice in one month. Once by a "tief" (Jamaicans don't put that "h" in there when they say thief) and once by our very own uncle. I don't know about you but I say it is time to say "ENOUGH" to this coldhearted man we call "UNCLE SAM". Old Sam I am, you are a vicious old man...with your way high tax, red ink in hand. We left it all for another land, you still come tiefing old Sam I am. We've had enough....we see your scam....we won't re-elect Old Sam I am!

This is just another rambling of one tired Jamerican.....SELAH!

What's in a happy meal?

I am an unashamed, over the top fan of happy meals. I don't really know what it is, but once they tuck that little cheeseburger into a cardboard box with handles and insert a cute little toy...I am suckered in! To me the fries are crispier, the burger cheesier, and the coke sweeter if it comes in a happy meal. The cool thing about it? My husband loves them too. No, he doesn't eat them but for him the price is right. In Jamaica it is about $375 for a Burger King kids meal. Yeh, I know that technically McDonalds is the true owner of the "happy meal" but since Jamaica boasts no McDonalds eateries, I close my eyes at Burger King and pretend I am eating a bonafide happy meal. Oh, and $375 here translates to about $4 US dollars. (I can hear some of you hyperventilating after reading the above price).
One of the funniest stories I recall of my mom's last days on Earth was when she realized for the first time that adults could order happy meals. She had always believed that you had to be a kid to order one or the Happy Meal Police might getcha. The day my sister bought her one for the first time you would've thought she had purchased her a diamond ring. (Well, not really. Betty Louise did love her some jewelry) There were many more happy meals to come for her before the Lord took her home. I also think of how much fun it is to take my grandkids for happy meals. Their mommies aren't too fond of it...but I kinda think when we go home to visit they just might let Nena take them out for a special date to McDonalds for a happy meal and playplace. That's the stuff Nena's and Poppa's are good for and can actually afford!
Recently I have learned of a good use for all those happy meal toys that we accumulate in the bottom of the toybox or in the floorboard of our car. Did you know that a little happy meal toy is actually a special treat to our Jamaican schoolkids? When we have the occasion to go in to our Public Schools here and minister, it is always a good idea to take along a good stash of happy meal toys....still in the plastic wrapper. Where at home your child may not think much of it, and in fact not even unwrap it, here it is looked at as an awesome gift. We teach a Bible lesson and then have a question and answer time afterwards. The prize for a right answer is....you guessed it...a happy meal toy. This is especially true for our rural area schools where they rarely make it down to the city to frequent a Burger King.
So....the next time you order a happy meal. Think about Jamaica and how you could make some little boy or girls day with that simple little plastic toy that came wrapped in your box. And...when you think about us down here...pray for us. We have a lot of teams coming down to minister with us this year. Some will be giving Bible stories to these little boys and girls in our schools. Pray for us in Jamaica that we will see a great harvest of souls of these little Happy Meal loving kids.
This is just another rambling of one tired Jamerican....SELAH!

Mi cyant dance.......

If you have ever been privileged to observe or be a part of a church service in the Caribbean, you will know exactly what I am talking about in this post. It is always amusing to us,( and HILARIOUS) to watch groups of lily white people who come here to visit try to dance like the Jamaicans when they sing. Our church services here in Jamaica always consist of a time of singing "lively songs". (That is actually what they call it!) During these lively songs everyone is clapping and moving from side to side and even the Pastors are doing a nice little "jig". I love it.....can't quite do it...but I love it. They "shuffle" ( I initially called it a sway and they quickly corrected me because sway has a sexual connotation here) from side to side and in perfect time and rhythm. We are in a different church with our students every weekend so I am always sitting in the pew with several of them during chorus time. I have tried and tried to get my white girl rhythm goin......it just ain't the same! They all laugh at me trying to "get my shuffle on" and just shake their head in disbelief. So now I stand between them and make them stand real close so they can "bump" me with their hips if I am out of sync. And...if you think I am bad, you should see my husband. He seriously can't even clap in sync! So, if you ever come to Jamaica...do yourself a favor in church.....please....just observe! This is just another rambling of one tired Jamerican......SELAH!

Our move into MoBay.......

For some it is difficult to picture what it is like to live in Jamaica. We have been here now six months and have already undergone some major changes. Our most recent change was moving into the city of MoBay after living up in a very rural mountain area for four months. So what is it like for us now?

I've posted three pics above to give you a better idea. We moved into the first floor of this three story house back in November. When we first came to look at it, it was filthy dirty and in need of some major work...therefore we got it at a fairly cheap monthly rent. We scrubbed grime out of grout, washed and scrubbed all cabinets and countertops and added light fixtures over bare lightbulbs. We are located in the Coral Gardens area, an upper middle class neighborhood to the east of the airport in Montego Bay. Above us on the second story is Dave and Mary Davison, missionaries with the Assemblies of God who have been here for over 20 years. Our Landlord, Brian, lives on the third story. Brian is Jamaican and drives a taxi. He also loves his liquor. Pictured above is his stash of beer bottles that he throws out at the wall when he comes in from driving his taxi all day. (that is fairly normal and accepted here unfortunately). He also has a fond affection for the security system on his taxi van so we get to hear it go off usually very early in the morning and very late at night. We will never need an alarm clock!

Our flat consists of two bedrooms and two bathrooms. We have "titusized" it to the best of our ability to make it feel like home. We have already been privileged to have guests here from the USA to occupy the spare bedroom and we have students here with us almost every weekend. In our housing subdivision (Jamaicans call them housing "schemes") lives at least four other missionary couples that we know of. It is always delightful to get together with them as often as possible.

We have asked God to help us use our home to be a ministry tool. We are looking forward to having some home Bible studies here, as well as hosting more friends and family from home. We feel our home is a valuable tool in our ministry and thank God for His provision.

So, though some think we are "suffering for Jesus", we prefer to think of it as "toiling for Jesus". Remember to pray for us down here doing God's work in Jamaica. These are just the ramblings of one tired Jamerican....SELAH!

My trip down memory lane...

For those of you who receive our monthly newsletter I have published a couple of the pics from our recent trip to Nassau, Bahamas. This is the place I still consider to be home. The trip was so heartwarming as I was able to see old friends and revisit all the familiar places of my childhood. We were so blessed to see the ministry of my father continuing on and doing well! As we visited Baptist Bible Church, New Testament Baptist Church, and Nassau Christian School it was clear to me that the vision my dad had for this island was not only continuing on in the hearts of the people but it was actually THRIVING! Although God chose to take my dad home to be with him at the age of 44 back in 1973, the work continues on and on and on. I was reminded again of the quote from martyred missionary Jim Elliott: "He is no fool who gives up what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose". To God be the glory.

Is anything too hard for the Lord?

Jamaica is a land of beautiful mountains, swaying palm trees, and breathtakingwaters. It is also an island known to be blessed with many churches and cursed with many bars. Rum, marijuana, and Rastafarianism have ravaged the people and many have found the devil to be a ruthless tax master. You can't walk very far without noticing the down and out, so consumed by their sin that they stumble to walk and some lie on the ground in their drunken state. We are indeed a country of contrasts between great grandeur and grave sin.

This last month has provided us with two opportunities for service that have burdened our hearts deeply here in Jamaica. One of these I will share in this blog.

Along with a group from Gospel Baptist of Greensboro, NC, we were privileged to go into Canterbury, considered to be the most violent area of Montego Bay. Our friends from Gospel have been to Jamaica twice previously to work short term in this squatters community. Their purpose in coming this time was solely humanitarian, to meet the physical needs of a people who seemingly have failed miserably at helping themselves. Cletis and I merely went along with them (as all the locals had many times warned us NOT to venture into this area alone) to meet some of the people and begin to establish an avenue of trust among them. To say that their plight is desperate would be an understatement. You can only enter Canterbury at the invitation of one who lives there and then only in daylight. The night hours are often riddled with gang warfare (three warring factions), gunfire, and useless killings. As we enter in we have to cross over the bridge where we pass the "wall of death". Here you find the pictures of those who have died painted on a cinderblock wall. The faces of the dead are strikingly young and your heart hurts for these families. At the entrance you also notice piles of trash and at times the smells coming from within the squatters homes rivals the odor coming from the garbage here on the outside. The stench is only made bearable by the sounds of the young children all around who are laughing and playing. As we walk in further we come upon some of the young men of the community who are glad we are here. They recognize their friends from Gospel and greet us warmly. All seems normal here except we immediately notice the unmistakable aroma of marijuana and the all too familiar smell of rum. A small crowd gathers as we begin to distribute the clothing, shoes, and toiletries and at once the grabbing begins, all trying to make sure there is something there for them. As we gaze into the eyes of the little ones our hearts are broken that we can't do more, anything just to make life one minute better for these little ones. We have quickly realized the monumental task it will be to meet even the slightest of their physical needs. As we hand out the childrens gospel booklets we stand back and watch as the adults also take the literature and lean back against the wall to read it for themselves. "Suffer the little children to come unto me and forbid them not for of such is the kingdom of God" Matthew 19:14. Our hearts are then warmed as we walk up the steep hill to the house of a dear old saint of God who has for years interceded in prayer for the salvation of her people and the demise of the satanic forces at work to destroy them. We smile as she takes the pretty pink dress brought in for her, holds it up to herself, and says she will wear it to church. As we venture back down the hill and towards the entrance we can't help but wonder who will still be here the next time we come? Which of these young people will have their face painted on the wall at the entrance of Canterbury? This is the kind of day that leaves a missionary feeling overwhelmed, undone, and somewhat bewildered. We have heard from some that Canterbury is "unredeemable", beyond hope.

This sort of opportunity for ministry is all around us in Jamaica. There is a clear and present danger known all too well by the locals here in reaching out to those some consider to be the lowest of the low. Cletis and I have spent much time discussing our time in Canterbury and balancing their need for physical nourishment ("For whosoever shall give a cup of water to drink in my name..." Mark 9:41) with their need for spiritual food and ultimately regeneration in Christ. As missionaries we find ourselves always looking to find balance. Is Canterbury truly "unredeemable"? No doubt there are those who have stiffened their necks and hardened their hearts and have been turned over to their fleshly desires. There is also a generation of young children whose only hope for a future are those who dare to cross over the wall of death and bring the message of life everlasting. Is there anything too hard for God? "The Lord is not slack concerning His promise, as some men consider slackness; but is longsuffering to usward, not willing that ANY should perish but that ALL should come to repentance." II Peter 3:9

EVEN CANTERBURY!