November 18, 2011

Small Group Bible Studies

I have mentioned before our intention to start small group Bible studies here in São Luís using the Lamplighters International material and methodology. By God's grace, our first small group, which meets every Monday morning at 9:30, has made it through the very first book--an in-depth look at Romans 1-6.

After we finished the final chapter, we posed for a victory shot:

Recently we started another Lamplighters Bible study group in another part of town, this one with eight guys. Please pray that God will use these groups to expand His Word here in São Luís.

Adventure awaits in the virtual pages of The Astonishing Adventures of Missionary Max!

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November 17, 2011

An Historic Missionary Conference

Historic, because in the history of our association of churches here in Maranhão (roughly 30 years), there has never been an event like it. All of our churches got together and organized an event that was for...all the churches. And it encouraged us greatly that the event was a missionary conference.

For the conference we were privileged with presence of AMEN, the missionary prayer group from our former ministry, the Cariri Baptist Seminary. They made the 15-hour trip just to help us out with the event, and they were a blessing. The above picture shows them visiting our congregation Saturday afternoon.

Among other things, the AMEN group presented "field profiles", alerting our people to the many needs around the world. One of the most interesting for Itacyara and I, on a personal level, was the one presented by our dear friend Crizelite. When we met Criz she was a young person not sure what God had for her life. Now she is in her final year of Bible college and passionate about the field of Bolivia. Lord willing she will be going there in January.

The conference itself represented a group effort on the part of people from all of our churches. In the photo above, young people from the Boas Novas church lead the worship.

Our own Kerigma congregation was represented by, among other things, this group of young ladies who put on a very well-done skit. In the picture each of them is dressed in an outfit representing different regions of Brazil.

For me, one of the most significant events of the conference was when, at the end, all our association pastors were called to the front, and the speaker prayed for us and the ministry here in São Luís. In the photo above are (left to right) Pastor Rafael from the Clamor Pelas Naçoes congregation, Pastor Francisco from the Kerigma congregation, Pastor Samuel from the Boas Novas church, Pastor Izaías from the First Baptist Church, the conference speaker Pastor Paulo Roberto, Pastor Fred who is currently taking classes at the seminary, and Yours Truly.

If you think of it, please pray for these men. The challenges in front of us are enormous, but we believe our God is bigger. Each of these men has been a tremendous encouragement to me personally, and I am honored to call them friends.

The general feeling is that the conference was a success, and plans are already underway for next year!

Don't forget to check out our spine-tingling missionary story, The Astonishing Adventures of Missionary Max!

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November 1, 2011

That Brush with Death

In my last post I mentioned a "brush with death" on our way back from the MAB missionary conference last week. Several people have asked about it, so here--without further ado--is how it went down.

Thirty-nine years is somewhat of a milestone--if for no other reason than that it is the last birthday before forty. My appointment with the big "three nine" was set for October 27th, 2011. I came within inches of missing that appointment by one day.

The trip from Juazeiro to São Luís is roughly 15 hours, one way. When traveling as a family, we usually do it in two days. But since this time it was just myself, a national pastor, and his son--and since the pastor can drive we decided to make the trek in one shot.

For most of the trip the roads were relatively clear. However, as we closed in on São Luís the traffic picked up and there were several areas of construction. I had driven a long stretch between Picos and Teresina. Turning the wheel over to my pastor friend, I put on my headphones and settled back to listen to some Alistair Begg.

Apparently I dozed off. When I opened my eyes again it was dark, and we were weaving our way through a convoy of tractor trailers. Half joking, I mentioned to the pastor that getting home alive was more important than getting home quickly. Then I closed my eyes again.

I'm not sure what made me open them, but when I did, I saw that we were passing another tractor trailer--on a hill. Just as I was about to comment on the possibility of encountering another vehicle cresting the hill, another vehicle crested the hill. By its headlights it was obviously a semi-truck, and it was very close.

"Pastor," I said, maintaining as much calm as I could "it's not going to work."

"Of course it is," he said, and stepped on the gas.

"Dad!" exclaimed his son from the back seat, a little less calmly, "It's not going to work!"

And it was at that point that I realized that we were not going to get out of this. There was no place to go to our left. To our right was another tractor trailer. And the truck in front of us was literally yards away, and bearing down fast.

I have often heard that, for people facing death, events seem to move in slow motion. I had never really believed this. I do now. I remember grabbing the handle above the window with both hands, and scrunching up to the door as much as possible. I remember thinking briefly of Itá and the boys. Behind me, I was vaguely aware of the pastor's son diving for the floor.

In a last-minute desperate move, the pastor swerved to the right. I closed my eyes tightly, expecting to hear the shredding of my car against the truck beside us before the final impact with the truck in front of us.

There was no shredding. By some miracle, the truck beside us swerved right at the same time my pastor friend swerved right, opening up a very small space. Fortunately, the Fiatt Mille is a very small car. Somehow (I still don't know how) my friend managed to to slide through that space, just as the oncoming tractor trailer blew by us, horns blaring. The truck that was now behind us also flashed his lights and sounded his horn, reflecting what must have been an exhaustive string of Portuguese scatology from inside the cab.

We rode in silence for a few hundred yards, each of us drawing in great quantities of air. Finally, the pastor turned to me.

"I think I'll let you drive now."

After a quick bathroom break (and, frankly, I was surprised that this was still necessary) I took the wheel, and a couple hours later we arrived home, safe and sound. And the next day I celebrated my 39th birthday--with a whole new appreciation for life.

As I write this, it dawns on me that this took place as many of our supporting churches in the US were gathering for prayer. If you happened to pray for us during this time...thanks!

That adventure not exciting enough for you? Try the Astonishing Adventures of Missionary Max.

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