Thursday, December 27, 2007


Quote From Plato’s Republic:

“…Let us place the just man in his nobleness and simplicity, wishing, as Aeschylus says to be and not seem good.

There must be no seeming, for if he seem to be just he will be honored and rewarded, and then we shall not know whether he is just for the sake of justice or for the sake of the honors and rewards; therefore, let him be clothed in justice only, and have no other covering; and he must be imagined in a state of life opposite the former. Let him be the best of men and let him be thought the worst; then he will have been put to the proof…

…The just man who is thought to be unjust will be scourged, racked, bound, will have his eyes burnt out; and at last, after suffering every kind of evil he will be impaled.”

This is a forecast of Jesus written in stilted English.

C.S. Lewis explained it farther in Reflections on the Psalms in the chapter on second meanings;

“…cases in which the latter truth (which the speaker did not know) is intimately related to the truth he did know; so that in hitting on something like it, he was in touch with that very simple reality in which that fuller truth is rooted.

We are prolonging his meaning in a direction congenial to it. The basic reality behind his words and behind the full truth is one and the same.

If Plato, starting from one example and from his insight into the nature of goodness and the nature of the world, was led on to see the possibility of a perfect example, and thus depict something extremely like the passion of Christ, this happened not because he was lucky but because he was wise.”

What excuse have we who have the revealed Word of God to let us see and emulate the holy goodness of Jesus?

Monday, December 24, 2007


The soft sounds of the carroler's "Silent Night" warm our hearts.

Like the Red Sea did for Moses, the thundering cacophany of secular sound rolls back at this season to allow the passing of "The Beautiful Music."

Tonight, Christmas Eve, there is a special glow as little hearts beat excitedly, anticipating an avalanche of gifts. Older hearts swell up and bathe softened eyes with the warm tears of love.

Indeed, this is a magnificent time.

Thank you, Jesus!

Saturday, December 22, 2007


A buoyant great joy and an unspeakable sorrow both sweep through my soul as I remember 2007.

Children’s Cup grew to double the number of CarePoints and the number of children we care for (about 7000 now) whose lives we have seen Jesus change.

But how quickly other scenes ambush my heart as I look at the ones still waiting for our help.

I can tell you how it feels to watch a sobbing child’s body shut down with AIDS.

I have heard dying mothers plead for someone to care for the children she will leave behind.

I have watched orphaned children—in one case a 6 year-old girl—become the sole protector and breadwinner for her younger siblings.

I know of dozens of unwanted and unnamed toddlers who were handed off to village men to be sold for sex. If the children wanted even a morsel of food they would have to do whatever the man wanted.

I can tell you the problem is growing faster than we have the funds to respond.

I can tell you that the twin destroyers named AIDS and Hunger are measuring and defining the church—the Body of Christ—as they gallop in unrestrained apocalypse destroying families and nations.

But I can not tell you why or how so many of my fellow believers who call upon the name of Jesus for their own needs refuse to respond to the needs of a dying generation.

What can be said or done in 2008 to reach past indifference and ignite the hearts of God’s church?

Sunday, December 16, 2007


"Manger" is the verb form of "to eat" in several languages.

Another layer of meaning and beauty in the Nativity.


Friday, December 14, 2007


God's Book calls Jesus "The Bread of Life."

The Bread of Life was first placed by human hands in a manger--a place where the hungry come to be fed.

That manger was in Beth-lehem which translates "house of bread."

How perfect the layers of symmetry in the Christmas story!

Saturday, December 08, 2007


Something in me winces when I think others may read this.
Does this long post make up for many days without posts?


There is more in me than I am releasing to God—weaknesses I have clung to and usability I have withheld. Will the weakness keep me from action? Can commitment to action conquer my weakness? Lord, I do commit, help thou my uncommitment.

I live in the great joy of having been allowed by God to see my own feeble human efforts touch a lot of lives. I cherish the thrill of sensing His anointing enabled by living for Him. Yet, I struggle to keep the peace and confidence that comes from living a God-centered life from turning into smug self-confidence. Great men have boasted, “I would never…” only to become embroiled in the very thing they vowed to avoid. I cling to a list of, “I-have-never…” sins and try to avoid acknowledging a long list of not-so-visible commissions and omissions

There is a disquiet in my soul knowing I’ve not yet totally surrendered every area of my life to Him. Too many times I’ve exhibited faults like disdain, anger, fear, doubt, distrust, self-interest, non-action…where does the list stop?

The closer I draw unto him, the more my faults become evident in the inexorable light of His presence.

Since the preponderance of human deeds is evil, and God is always helping us get past our sins, does that mean that evils in my life frustrate the course of good? How do I get to that place where I am past damage control and into the place where I can operate fully in the power and freedom of His will?

Can that ever happen as long as I am a mortal being subject to the diverting exertions of my human nature? Will I ever be able to honestly say, “I am crucified with Christ…?”

Is it humanly possible to reach a level of relationship with God that I can escape the tethers of self-interest and pride?

I think about the implications of water baptism. When I went under the water I became immersed in a totally different environment. Water instead of air. Silence instead of a cacophony of voices attacking everything I revere as good.

Comes now the thought that compares water baptism to baptism in the Holy Spirit. I think the answers to the questions I have just asked are right here. If I live my life baptized in, fully immersed in the Holy Spirit of God—a totally different environment for my heart and mind—I will better escape the devil’s attempts to jack-hammer his influence into my soul.

A powerful verse is speaking to me right now. “Praying always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit.” Ephesians 6:18 I see it clearly now. My hope to escape my human nature is to immerse my thought-life—praying always--into an on-going conversation with God in His Spirit. Praying in the Spirit must become the default action of my heart and mind. Whenever my mind is free to focus I must resume that dialogue with God.

I’ll think of it this way. It’s like an unending phone conversation in the Spirit. At times I must apply my mind to the business of living, but I must not hang up the phone. I must keep it to my ear and let the conversation continue and listen for His guidance.

Dare I let the awareness of my human frailties discourage me from pressing onward and reaching past my imperfections? The Holy Spirit is my reach-extender.

How amazing that a Perfect, Holy God allows such flawed things we humans are to represent Him and lead the lost to Him!

Saturday, December 01, 2007


I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus. Phil. 3:14

I want to live in such a way this verse would describe me.

Sunday, November 25, 2007


It’s been a long dry spell with no new blogs, but when I tell you why I know you’ll understand.

Ben and Susan and Kayla, Levi, and Trinity (our three Africa grandchildren) are home from Africa on furlough. This house is full of giggles, laughter, baking and roasting aromas and hugs and joy tears and more giggles.

Can you imagine our joy watching our kids encounter America after so many years in Africa?

Healing Place Church
Aunts and uncles and cousins
Grocery stores
Toy stores
More hugs and giggles.

Jean and I are so blessed!

Thursday, October 18, 2007


If the Gospel be hidden, it is hidden within the walls of the church.

Sunday, October 14, 2007


In about an hour we'll drive over to Healing Place Church for another wonderful encounter with God.

I've watched God use this church to change lives, families, communities and several countries of the world.

What an amazing thing to be part of!

This I believe: A great church is the best reason for choosing where to live.

Sometimes a great job offer tempts one to relocate.

Caution: If there is not a great church at the new location don't go.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007


"The fullness of oneness," he was talking about his marriage.

I just came from the Healing Place Church men's breakfast where businessman and friend Lee Domingue shared some principles that have led to his success.

He spoke of his wife, his partner, who speaks into his life and he made the phrase "the fullness of oneness" really impact every husband in the room.

Thanks, Lee, for opening your life to us.

Tuesday, October 09, 2007


Another remembered song that shaped my childhood.
A hurting world is asking us to do this.

Tell me the story of Jesus,
Write on my heart every word.
Tell me the story most precious,
Sweetest that ever was heard.
Tell how the angels in chorus,
Sang as they welcomed His birth.
“Glory to God in the highest!
Peace and good tidings to earth.”


Tell me the story of Jesus,
Write on my heart every word.
Tell me the story most precious,
Sweetest that ever was heard.
Fasting alone in the desert,
Tell of the days that are past.
How for our sins He was tempted,
Yet was triumphant at last.
Tell of the years of His labor,
Tell of the sorrow He bore.
He was despised and afflicted,
Homeless, rejected and poor.


Tell of the cross where they nailed Him,
Writhing in anguish and pain.
Tell of the grave where they laid Him,
Tell how He liveth again.
Love in that story so tender,
Clearer than ever I see.
Stay, let me weep while you whisper,
Love paid the ransom for me.

Saturday, October 06, 2007


I have rediscovered the power in some of the old hymns I grew up with.

Take a moment, bow your heart and hear again with me the poignant sounds and words of "Pass Me Not O Gentle Savior."

1. Pass me not, O gentle Savior,
hear my humble cry;
while on others thou art calling,
do not pass me by.
Savior, Savior, hear my humble cry;
while on others thou art calling,
do not pass me by.

2. Let me at thy throne of mercy
find a sweet relief,
kneeling there in deep contrition;
help my unbelief.

3. Trusting only in thy merit,
would I seek thy face;
heal my wounded, broken spirit,
save me by thy grace.

4. Thou the spring of all my comfort,
more than life to me,
whom have I on earth beside thee?
Whom in heaven but thee?

Tuesday, October 02, 2007


I just talked to one of our missionary staff in Swaziland--a father who pours his life into his own children as well as thousands of our CarePoint kids.

He talked about his children's need for contact from Christian friends by emails and messaging.

If you know a missionary family please encourage your children--especially teens--to minister to the missionary kids (MK's) on the field by just keeping in touch. Perhaps there is a youth group that can "adopt" some MK's to be included in their group by text or email.

MK's are often isolated in a foreign culture that sometimes is hostile to the Gospel, and they cherish contact from believers at home.

Many MK's are very effective witnesses on the field.

Saturday, September 29, 2007


American hero, Lt. Col. Paul Kari called me yesterday. He's my pilot friend that spent eight years in the "Hanoi Hilton" prison in Vietnam.

That same heart that forgave his captors for eight years of pain (pain he still feels every day of his life) was moved by the plight of our AIDS orphans in Africa. Paul is personally making Christmas wonderful for almost two hundred of our African kids.

He'd never give me permission to tell you this, but I'm doing it anyway. I want the world to have a peek into the heart of a great man who served his country.

And I want us all to honor and pray for our heroes fighting for our values and freedoms today. Thousands of their children face Christmas with dad or mom away on the battlefield--precious little ones that live in fear that daddy or mommy won't come home.

Shouldn't we call these little ones--our warriors' sons and daughters--heroes, too?

Will you pray for them?

Will you bless their little lives by honoring their freedom-warrior parents?

Let me know if you want to help Children's Cup help the Little Heroes here even as we help our kids in Africa.


Little Heroes Project
Children's Cup
PO Box 400
Prairieville,LA 70769-0400

Wednesday, September 26, 2007


Doubt is faith in the devil.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007


Two brothers, a brother-in-law, my wife's parents, several friends--so many deaths in recent months.

In each case our loved ones were ready-maybe even anxious to meet our Savior.

Did saying our goodbyes make us sad and bring tears?


But was there grief?

Not at all.

Any sadness was for ownselves--not for the loved one who is rejoycing in the presece of Jesus.

Comes now the thought, "What about the ones who aren't ready--especially our own loved ones?"

For long moments a thundering cascade of memories grieves my spirit--memories of unspoken witness, of missed opportunities. Unbearable decibels of our own silence

Forgive our silence, Lord. Strengthen our voices.

Monday, September 24, 2007


Chinese proverb: Who live too close to the temple laugh at the gods.

We must never lose our sense of awe at who God is.

Sunday, September 23, 2007


The highest reach of our faith is to have faith IN Jesus rather than faith FOR what we think it is best for us to have.

Saturday, September 22, 2007


Your ability to do God's will is not subject to other people's decisions.

Friday, September 21, 2007


He nearly side-swiped us as he cut us off on the wide, unusually empty highway. “That was senseless and dangerous!” I thought as I mentally told him off. I think I probably even mumbled, “Joker,” out loud.

It shouldn’t have surprised me because I’ve known for years you cannot relax in Manila traffic—not even for a moment. I’m sure I didn’t look so pleasant as I glared at him, seeking his eyes so I could see him recognize my anger.

I didn’t catch his eye, though, because he was focusing all of his attention on our two-year-old son Joshua. Josh’s bright yellow hair and engaging blue eyes had captured the jeepney driver’s heart.

Instantly, I forgave his violation of my right of way. As he waved and smiled at my son I was even ready to admit that I had probably encroached on someone’s right of way at sometime.

Josh waved to him and we lost sight of each other in the increasing traffic.

I looked to my left and in another jeepney was a young Filipino family. The mother was holding the tiniest, prettiest little girl. Her black hair and dark brown eyes captured me. She had a power over me that brought instant love.

Power, that’s it. There is power in these little lives. Maybe it’s in their eyes. Perhaps it’s the unguarded innocence that isn’t trying to challenge my culture or measure my successes. Those powerful little eyes were looking for one thing—a smile. And when they found it their personalities burst open in friendliness.

Indeed, it is a strange and wonderful force that little ones have. Some of the grandest legends and folklore tell of the pauper’s waif turning the heart of a king, or melting a tyrant’s frozen will.

Fables and fairy tales have used the emotional voltage of children to create their beautiful lessons and fantasies.

And let’s not forget that wise men sought to find One Special Child. It fit the Heavenly Father’s plan to have His Son arrive as a child.

“A little child shall lead them…” took on a new ring for me today. Its ring resonates in my heart.

Tonight I read the usual crop of international news magazines. The tiny, beautiful faces I had noticed all day were not far from my mind as I read articles about another week of saber-rattling and war talk around the world. Just like the drivers in a traffic jam, each one feels his rights have been violated.

With a sudden dazzle of bright yellow hair Josh burst into the room to tell me, “Nite-nite, DaDa.” Of course I stopped and hugged that little kid. What an exciting child!

Then seven year old Susan came in to say goodnight. Warm feelings of love and hope swelled in my heart as I held her. The war threats were swept out of my attention as I went to get her some bedtime books.

Later as I reviewed the day’s events my thoughts became a swirl of jeepneys, children’s eyes, and war rumblings.

And then I thought, “Would there still be wars if we hugged one another’s children?”

Thursday, September 20, 2007


What honest believer would tell you he has never doubted?

Who have never doubted are never sure they truly believe.


I've heard the pacifists' phrase all my life, "Live and let live."
As a missionary who has observed suffering humanity in 109 countries I'd rather we'd all say it this way, "GIVE and let live."


I stood in a crowd of business leaders and watched as the power people performed the ageless ballet of introductions, attempts to impress, probes to learn who the other person really is, and questions to meter each other’s power.

Ice tinkling, liquor sloshing in the expensive crystal.

Exaggerated politeness.

Quick glances around the room to see if anyone is observing their finesse—whom they should maneuver closer to for that all-important introduction and chance to impress.

They check and recheck their mental list of acceptable behavior and strategy to impact others with their charisma and impress.

The words are predictable and memorized like the opening moves of chess.

Status is measured by how well you perform the script.

And since everyone knows it is a flash-and-dazzle game they all leave wondering what the ones they met are really like.

I have to believe that a clear gaze, a firm handshake and confidence in God’s ability to use the skills He has given you leave a stronger, more favorable lasting impression.

There is power in authenticity.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007


Can I share a flashback to the 1970's with you? We were missionaries with International Corresponndence Institute in Brussels, Belgium.

Who could tell how old he was? Tossled gray hair, rough cut beard, faltering steps with a cane, and he always carried some sort of bundle of papers or sticks.

Many times we had seen him in the forest behind the ICI office or walking on the sidewalk past the office.

Last summer, 12 year old son Dan (our numbr 2 son) was out by the sidewalk watering flowers. The old man came hobbling by. The man asked Dan for some water in his not-so-clean water jar. He was grateful but had little to say.

"Please wait for a minute," Dan said, "I have something else I want to give you."

He ran into the ICI office and got the first lesson of "The Great Questions of Life" in French. The course introduces students to Jesus as Savior.

When Dan handed him the booklet, the old man thanked him politely and then resumed his sad shuffle down the sidewalk.

Later Dan told us about it, and, of course, we encouraged his compassion.

"Well, you know, Son, that could become a very significant thing in the old man's life." we told him. I silently prayed that Dan might someday see results from this kind of witness.

Then we all just didn't think about it anymore--until yesterday.

Yesterday, now one year later, Dan was again out front drooling over some Corvettes parked across the street and once again the old man came by.

"Hello, Grandfather," Dan greeted him. "What is your name?"
"Hello, young man, I'm Simon and I'm 80 years old. Are you 18?"
"No, I'm 13."

For a moment age stood back in silence and beheld youth and seemed to measure the promises of life for the lad.

"Are you a religious man, Grandfather?"

To answer the question gnarled old hands reached inside that same old dirty coat he wore last year and pulled out a Bible.

"Yes, Child, God is very good to me. I read this and He is so precious. Last year, right here, a child gave me a drink and gave me a little book about God and the questions of life. Now I also have this Bible someone else gave me. I read them all the time. God is so good to me."

Dan didn't tell Old Simon he was that child that gave him the water and the book, but I'm sure Dan's heart was dancing as Old Simon and Young Dan, now linked for eternity, finished a warm conversation.

Old Simon's walk is a little slower this year, but his heart is certainly lighter. His beard still needs trimming, but brightened eyes look out in new wonder at youth and life.

Note: Dan has continued a life of witness and reaching out in Jesus' name. He serves as Development Director for Children's Cup and is seeing his vision for global missions come to pass. His publications impact thousands of lives. The support he raises enables 'Cup's global ministry. His on-field visits are a high-point for 'Cup's staff and thousands of our CarePoint children.

I repeat a question I ask a lot. Is it OK for a father to be proud?


1. Am I exempt from the Great Commission to go everywhere and tell everybody about Jesus?

2. Do I have God’s permission to stay home or be idle during the harvest?

3. Is there any need that will move me to action?

4. Can I ignore this need?

5. Even though I’ve trusted the Lord with my eternal soul, do I trust Him with my checkbook?

6. Is He urging me to give right now?

Tuesday, September 18, 2007


Look into their eyes clouded by pain,
Festered with flies.
Does what we see disturb our ease?
Can we say no to their sad pleas?

Know that they are real. Sense their response.
Know that they feel hunger and thirst,
And constant fear.
Wanting to live yet death is so near.

We can, we must.
They seek but bread--even a crust.
The cost is so small. Just a few cents
Spreads a banquet in famined tents.

Jesus is Lord.
Let's let them know His Holy Word
Is a fountain flowing alive,
And Jesus is the Bread of Life.


It happened a couple decades ago in the Philippines but it is still so vivid in my mind.

Outside, the city of Manila had awakened to another day of political unrest.

"What will happen today?" was the first thought for many. Each day seemed to bring new threats to the country.

Some Christian leaders had called an early morning strategy session. Some of the leaders were former rebels.

When I looked around the room I could see violent episodes of bombings and killings in the history of Manila written in the backgrounds of these strong ones. Each was given a turn to speak.

The first to rise was Cesar, a tall man with greying hair. He was a financial genius--he had been very corrupt. Even from prison he controlled a financial empire.

Then came Roger. He was known as a bombastic speaker. In the 1960's and 1970's he had used his fiery speech and organizational skills to lead the Marxist efforts toward violent overthrow of the Philippine government.

He trained guerillas. He devised the terrorist's strategies. He planned the liquidation of all missionaries.

I was one of those missionaries.

When he began to speak he still had the fire in his voice--but it was a new kind of fire! And just like every other speaker that morning, he told how Jesus Christ had changed his life and Jesus could save this nation.

Like many others that spoke he had found Christ in prison and now he was preaching the saving power of Jesus Christ to the same city he had led toward communism.

Each speaker urged the audience to use every means to tell the Philippines about Jesus--the only hope.

When the meeting was finished Roger and I were standing face to face. The one who introduced us told him I was one of those missionaries on the list and mentioned some of my work.

We shook hands.

I held his gaze and saw no hate in those eyes. And then in Christian brotherhood he hugged me.

"I love you, brother," he said. "Keep up the good work."

Once he had planned my death--this morning he hugged my neck.

What a meeting!

Sunday, September 16, 2007


"Please, Please, Daddy, don't hurt me again."
When he was gone, she sobbed in pain.

When will it end? When will it stop?
Now she's waiting for hope, waiting for hope.

They said, "I do," with words they meant.
He's drunk again, the paycheck spent,
He's cursing her, he slams the door.
Weeping, she's waiting for hope, waiting for hope.

There are twelve to fourteen million hurting kids--Africa's youth orphaned by AIDS. In city and bush, huddled in the dark
they're waiting for hope, waiting for hope.

The doctor says, "You have cancer."
His heart racing, he fights anger.
Overpowering dread fills his soul.
He's waiting for hope, waiting for hope.

They're waiting for hope yet so often we turn away. We must tell them, "Hope's on His way!"

Hope's name is Jesus;
Hope's name is Jesus!


Pastor Jerry Donthnier, a long-time friend, starts every conversation by asking, "What do you think about Jesus?"

No matter who it is or where it is.

The answer cannot be faked and always exposes their heart.

Some are uncomfortable, only a few are impolite, and all are jarred into examining their hearts.

We were at a restaurant. He asked the waitress.

She immediately started weeping.

Right then in the busy restaurant she knelt at the end of the table and said, "Oh, please pray for me. I want to give my life to Jesus. I've made such a mess of it."

Heaven rejoiced. Curious onlookers stared and then most of them bowed their heads. Some closed their eyes and prayed, too.

Those six words changed lives that day.

Pastor Jerry, if you had left those words unsaid her life may have stayed unchanged.

Now, what about our own times of unsaid witness?

Friday, September 14, 2007


Let me share this note from our daughter in Africa.

Our daughter Susan found a wonderful verse that we have seen
God fulfill. Susan's husband is Africa Director for Children's
Cup. She has had a ring-side seat observing God's great move in 'Cup's work in Southern Africa.

Is it OK to be proud of our children?

Isaiah 51:2b

"When I called him, he was only one;
I blessed him and made him many."

Hey Dad,

Remember February, 1992? You were the only one. Now the Lord has made you
many. He has blessed the work; and currently there are 12 adult
missionaries (plus 7 MKs!) on the ground, with more on the way. Not to
mention dozens of African staff.

It's cool, Dad.

I love you, Dad, and I'm proud to be your daughter.


Thursday, September 13, 2007


For maximum use of time don't plan your tasks by what you can do in an hour, but by what tasks or parts of tasks you can do in five minutes.

Sunday, September 02, 2007


I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus. Philippians 3:14

Please allow a bit of exegetical license for my interpretation of the word "mark."

Missions is a high calling--and it will mark you, even scar you. In spite of that, called ones press toward those marks knowing the prize is worth it.

Saturday, September 01, 2007


God knows better than we do what will make us happy.

Thursday, August 23, 2007


Are you afraid Godly meekness will be seen as weakness?
Remember, meekness is power under control.
Sometimes the best use of power is not to use it.

Monday, August 20, 2007


Too long for a blog? Sure.
Too emotional to read? Maybe.
But these echoes are always in my soul pushing me like an engine.
Read as far as your heart will let you.

I have heard…
…my mother’s gentle voice say, “I love you, Son,” and call my name in prayer.
…my father say, “I’m proud of you, Son.”

…the beautiful girl I love say, “I do.”
…the tender words of her love.
…the infant cries of our babies.
…our children pray, “Dear Jesus.”
…and so soon their own words, “I do.”

…the delightful giggles of our children’s children.
…so many words of a family blessed and called by God.

…my Savior say, “Come.”
…my Healer say, “Be whole.”
…the Lord of the Harvest say, “Go.”
…the Father say, “Well done.”

.. …tens of thousands roaring praise to God as twenty thousand ran across the
stadium infield in response to an altar call.

…a crowd of thousands singing worship to Jesus in the very stadium where
thousands were slaughtered in the Rwandan genocide.

…the ground-shaking thunder of a summer storm and the dove’s
soft coo after the rain stopped.

…the roar of the South China Sea as the typhoon surged the water
over the wall.
…the gentle lapping of Galilee’s waves on the side of our boat.

I have heard…
…ancient echoes of blood-lusting crowds as Jean and I stood in the
Roman Coliseum.

…the clanging cymbals and gongs in pagan temple as their devout
burn money on an altar to send it to hell for a departed loved
one’s relief.

…persecuted Christians plead not for safety but for Bibles,
the whispered reports of underground pastors about dozens
of co-workers with whom I had shared communion being
tortured to death.

…a soon-to-be-arrested pastor ask me to pray that he would have
the courage to tell his captors of Jesus’ love before they killed
him—that he would not deny his Lord during the torture.

…a new convert from a Jesus-hating religion say,
“They will kill me now.”

…an informant whisper in my ear, “They hired a gunman to kill you.”

…government leaders once hostile to the Gospel pray the
Sinner’s Prayer.

…an African employee recount his six weeks of torture at the hands
of an official he later led to Christ.

…the thundering clash of war.
…the veterans’ and Viets’ healing words as they shook hands in
…the widow of a soldier killed in action tell me to use her $2000
to help the children of the ones who killed him.

…a child on Cambodia’s Killing Fields hold me tight and sob,
“Don’t go away!” But I had to go and the rockets came…

…the orphans eyes asking, “Why? What will happen to me now?”

…a government official weep as he asked if we could help save lives and
take the Gospel into the camps of AIDS orphans. “Shouldn’t the ones
closest to death be the first ones we tell about Jesus?”

I have heard these words and sounds over and over again.
They make up my life.
They are why I love.
They are why I cry.

I have heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” Then said I, “Here I am; send me. Isaiah 6:8

Jean and I will go for Him and for you if you cannot go.
We will run full speed, arms abreast, into His call.

Hear this old song with me now.

We have heard the joyful sound: Jesus Saves! Jesus saves!
Spread the tidings all around; Jesus saves! Jesus saves!
Bear the news to every land,
Climb the steeps and cross the waves;
Onward! ‘tis our Lord’s command;
Jesus saves! Jesus saves!

Wednesday, August 15, 2007


At this morning's 6 o'clock men's breakfast, Pastor Dino admonished us to be Godly stewards in these four areas of our lives:


Succinct. Hard hitting.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Robin Roberts: "Thank you Jesus!"

"Thank you, Jesus!"

ABC news anchor's words on her successful operation for breast cancer rang clear and genuine.

Thank you, ABC, for allowing this respected news personality to give such a convincing testimony of her faith.

Thursday, August 09, 2007


Blaming our faults on our nature does not change the nature of our faults.

Tuesday, August 07, 2007


A young man was grappling with a frightening possibility—something that could radically change the rest of his life.

My first thoughts were to remind him that God is good and does not do bad things to his children.

He has a purpose in everything He allows to come into our lives.

And, He is sovereign and can change even the most impossible situation.

We hugged necks, wept and prayed, and committed the matter into God’s hands.

As he was leaving the room the question dropped into my heart, “How much are you willing to let God trust you with?”

And I know the question was as much for me as for the young man.

As for me I don’t know my answer. I wanted to say, “With whatever your will asks, Lord,” I've said that before but I’m not sure that all of me is truly ready to say that.

It’s easier to ask Him to trust you with resources to do great things for His Glory. Much harder to release Him to trust you with pain and loss.

How akin I feel to the man who said, “Lord, I do believe, help thou mine unbelief.” My version would say, “Lord, I do trust You, help thou my untrust.”

Right now I want to stand as close as I can to the One who said, “Nevertheless, not my will but thine...”

Saturday, August 04, 2007


Just minutes ago I got word that my oldest brother Darwin passed away. There were four of us brothers--now I am the last.

Darwin was always my hero.

He served our country in the military to an extent few people know.

His leather art was nationally acclaimed.

His children each knew his deep love.

He was a man of truth.

A few weeks ago in Iowa he and Jean and I had a wonderful, profound time together. He knew death was coming. "I'm not afraid. I'm ready," were some of his last words to us.

God gave Jean and me those wonderful moments with Darwin to make this day easier. I know where he is.

Jean and I were priveleged to have the same "good-bye moments" with my other two brothers, Don and Damon. We'll reunite in heaven.

Don left us saying, "See you later..."

I'll see y'all later, Darwin, Don and Damon.

Damon, Dave, Darwin


We are mirrors to reflect the glory of God; a mirror never calls attention to itself unless there are flaws in it.

Friday, August 03, 2007


Lord, do in me what you need to
so you can do through me
what you have to do.

Thursday, August 02, 2007


Last night our children and grandchildren slept in warm beds snuggled up with their favorite stuffed toys.

Theirs—too many to count—lay without cover on the cold ground.

Last night ours giggled at the clever bedtime stories and begged for more.

Theirs pleaded with the abusers, “Please don’t hurt me again tonight!”

Last night ours had a nightmare that someone was hurting her.

For so many of theirs it wasn’t a dream.

Last night ours sat at a supper table with an abundance of favorite foods.

Theirs tried to think of something else as the hunger pangs wracked their little bodies.

Last night Mommy knelt softly at our little boy’s bedside and watched him sleep--her heart welled with tears of love and hope. What a day her boy just had!

Over there grandma silently wept beside her shivering child. He’ll never know his mommy. What a day he just had—and tomorrow will be just as hard.

Our little one still felt mommy’s kiss on her cheek as she laid her head on her pillow.

Their little ones huddled through the brutal night in the dark doorways of the dangerous city.

Our child asked, “Daddy can I have a drink of water?” He answered with cool, clear water from the tap.

For them the very water needed for life is laden with disease and death.

Yesterday we gave ours an “allowance” to spend on childish treasures.

They begged on the streets for coins to buy food—and then the bullies stole the coins from them.

A quick trip to the medicine chest and a few cents’ worth of salve stopped the cut on our little son’s foot from becoming infected.

Their little one’s cut is already infected; it threatens the limb—even the life.

Our little ones went to school with eager minds and learned wonderful things.

Theirs hadn’t eaten and didn’t have the strength to walk the six kilometers to school.

Soon, if they haven’t already, our children will come to the moment when they ask Jesus into their hearts.

Their precious little ones may never know how.

Do we love only ours and ignore theirs?

No. No. Stop a moment. What’s this about OURS and THEIRS? THEY ARE ALL HIS!

He cares the same for all of them—just the same. Enough to die for them. And He asked us to help them—all of them.

Today and tomorrow we must do everything in our power to bring hurting little ones to Jesus.

Wednesday, August 01, 2007


Starting today, Children's Cup is in a 40 day season of prayer for the thousands of hurting children we care for.

Prayer really does change things.

To join in prayer with us go to the 'Cup website

Let your spiritual arms embrace the beautiful little ones that know pains and horrors our children never even heard of.

You can change their lives.


Oh, the arrogance of man.

Humankind is guilty—even those inside the church. Guilty of redefining the Scriptures to mean whatever is convenient to their desires.

And then the ultimate affront, they try to tell God that’s what He really meant when He first said it.

Believing the lies of hell, man thinks he can win the debate.


Sunday, July 29, 2007


Pastor Scott Bledsoe of Household of Faith, Gonzales, LA preached this morning about aiming the focus of our lives toward easing other peoples' pain.

Great message.

Then he backed up his words with a check to Children's Cup for $34,700 as "downpayment" on the $100,000 they are raising for Children's Cup's second Oasis of Life Church and CarePoint start-up in Zimbabwe. We are just days away from launching the project on the ground.

Zimbabwe is a risky and hurting place. The pain is deep for millions. (100,000 AIDS orphans in Masvingo province alone.)

Hundreds of lives will be saved and changed for eternity because of their focus on easing hurting peoples' pain.

Thank you, Pastor Scott and congregation--thank you in Jesus' name.

What a great church!

Friday, July 27, 2007


Their blood. Our blood.
Spilled blood. Diseased blood.
His blood. Calvary's blood.
Covering blood. Cleansing blood.
Healing blood. Life-giving blood.
Jesus' blood.

The devil would have blood be the symbol for only disease and violent death. He hates the blood of Calvary. I'm convinced he knows he lost at Calvary, but I'm also sure he shakes his fist at God and says, "I'll make you pay every drop of the blood price."

But Calvary's blood--Jesus' blood--cleanses and heals and delivers.

Not cheap, this blood-bought victory!

Blood-borne AIDS has now become the single most disasterous calamity in all of history to attack the human race.

Yet, that blood-bought victory of Calvary's flow can never be staunched. It is bigger than AIDS, it is even bigger than sin and hate.

The Children's Cup Team pledge this: we will push deeper and deeper into hurting places in the power and under the covering of Jesus' redeeming blood.

It is an emotional journey, surely not without risk. But just as surely not without victory.

Do you want to take this journey with us?

Sunday, July 22, 2007


Right now 3o days of concentrated ministry and missions projects are underway in Cambodia.

Joyce Meyer Ministries, Healing Place Church of Baton Rouge, Celebration Church of Jacksonville, Florida, and other ministies are impacting the needy country of Cambodia.

This is special to me. It was on those Killing Fields of Cambodia that plans were started in my heart to create Children's Cup.

A couple hours after I left Nang Chan refugee camp of 26,000 people, enemy murderers destroyed the camp and killed thousands. Among the casualties were about a dozen little tots that had taken my hands--alternating one finger of my hand per child--and walked me to the huts where they lived and the church where they heard about Jesus.

Still every day I see the children and hear their giggles that turned to sobs. One of the girls became a logo 'Cup uses.

Thank you, teams, for helping keep my promise to see that country impacted by the Gospel.

Thursday, July 19, 2007


“I love you so much it hurts.”

I was hugging one of our awesome grandchildren. I didn’t think the words, they just gushed out.

And I’ve thought about the words a lot since.

Love can bring soaring joys, immeasurable gratitude for such an unmerited blessing and at the same time a profound pain at the thought harm could come to the one we love so much or that we could lose them.

And then I remember the cross.

Jesus’ love for us took Him into a pain no other has ever known. Others had been crucified but none carried the weight of all the evil hell could imagine.

For God so loved the world…

And His pain at losing even one explodes with every whipman’s lash and every hammer’s blow at Golgatha.

Shouldn’t we at least tell everybody what He did on the cross?

Monday, July 09, 2007


When Jesus told us to "Go ye into all the world and preach the Godpel to every creature," He did not make exclusions if the place was too far or if it cost too much.

He just said, "Go."

Sunday, July 08, 2007


It never has been easy.
And it's getting harder.

I'm talking about interviewing missionary candidates.

Do they really understand what they are getting into? Is it just an exciting thing to do? Has God really called them?

Come with me to an interview. Look into their eyes, listen to their words, feel their hearts, let your heart receive their tears.

You won't see them but there is a crowd looking over my shoulder.

They are men and women I have known, wept and hugged necks with--great hearts that have layed down their lives for the same Jesus, the same message that these candidates want to take into the hard places of the world.

There have been more martyrs in my lifetime than in all the generations since Golgatha all added together.

About every three minutes another martyr dies for Jesus--perhaps one while you read this.

As I look into the candidates' eyes a fiery knot burns in my throat.

"Will this person be asked to die for Jesus?"

Dare I encourage the candidates to travel the road that will take them to that moment of ultimate sacrifice?

Worse, what guilt would crush my heart if I discourage their answer to the call?

I reaffirm this commitment to any who ask me about becoming a missionary.

I will want you to be sure God has called you.

I will be honest with you about the risks.

I will remind you that the devil knows if you have the spiritual authority to invade his strongholds.

I will also tell you that there is no greater joy than seeing God use your life to impact hurting people in hostile places.

Part of me will always be weeping as we talk.

Thursday, July 05, 2007


More about my hero friend Lt. Col. Paul Kari.

Paul was determined to never let his torturers see him cry. But, he told me, he cried a lot when he got back alone in his cell.

Yet, I have seen him cry twice.

Once was when he told me about his first days in captivity. When he ejected from his burning jet it broke his back. He was made to sit for days on a jagged pile of concrete blocks.

When they put him in a cell with others his body was violently ill from pain and bad water and he used it. When the captors saw the bucket they demanded to know who used it. Before Paul could answer one of the other prisoners said, “I did.”

Paul wept as he told me how that man was tortured in front of him.

The other time I saw him weep was when he was telling me how good God had been to him bringing him through the captivity and blessing him in his life after prison.

The goodness of a fellow prisoner and the mercy of God drew his tears.

Measure a man by what it takes to make him cry.


"Thanks for being a man in a world of wussy-wimps, Paul!"

I called my friend Paul yesterday--Independence Day--to let him know we are grateful. Paul spent eight years in the "Hanoi Hilton" prison in Hanoi, Vietnam after he was shot down.

He was doing what his government asked him to do. He never betrayed his government.

For eight years his captors tortured him trying to make him say things against America. He never did. He refused to be guilty of treason.

But now, our "wussy-wimp" politicians and media are saying those things he refused to say--and worse.

Treason is what it is.

I thank God for Paul and every other American that has served in my country's military.

They all deserve to be called heroes.

Wednesday, June 20, 2007


At six o'clock this morning many of the men of Healing Place Church met for prayer at the construction site of our new sanctuary. We all thrilled at the sight of the steel girders giving shape to the building.

It is a massive project.

Pastor Dino said: "What God originates, He orchestrates."

How assuring to remember that when we do what God plans He'll see it through to completion!

Sunday, June 10, 2007


I'm always a little surprised at the depth of my feelings when I return to Iowa.

The past few weeks have been a great trip back into familiar places and cherished faces of lifelong friends.

(Here we are with Alice Gibson Stetz, my Junior High Sunday School teacher)

As a boy I couldn't wait to move away from the cold winters, but as an adult I remember the wonderful Iowa summers; hunting arrowheads, fishing, building log cabins, hunting rabbits, baling hay, driving the tractor, fixing up my '36 and then my '37 Chevy freedom machines.

I just went back--again--to the place along the railroad tracks where I got shot point-blank in the back of my head. To the farmhouse where they cancelled the ambulance because I was too far gone to make it to the hospital. Grandpa Mosher told them "send him anyway!"

Glad he did that.

Now I thank God for including that gunshot in my life.

Hugging necks and sharing memories with old classmates is a wonderful trip.

Yes, I love my roots--but I love them best in the good old summertime.

Friday, May 25, 2007


My heart makes a noise in me;
I cannot hold my peace,
Because you have heard, O my soul,
The sound of the trumpet,
The alarm of war. Jeremiah 4:19

There is lightning in my veins and thunder in my chest.

I hear the sound of a mighty rushing wind in my spirit.

Holy Spirit of God guide my steps forward in this battle to save lives and souls of hurting children around the world.

Sunday, April 15, 2007


Friday Jean and I begin a three month itinerary throughout the midwest and eastern half of the USA.

If you'd like for us to visit you, your fellowship group or your church please call Dave's cell phone 225-278-2555.

Maybe our calenders will match up on a free date and we can see you and thank you in person for what you mean to us.

Monday, April 02, 2007


It's true.

When you've been away from America for a while you want to kiss the ground when you get back.

Jean and I are back and will be having the great joy of visiting as many friends and churches as we can over the next several months.

Tuesday, March 20, 2007


The doctors were talking about me.

Three different times they thought I had died already.

It happened 54 years ago today.

"What happened?" I screamed to my hunting partner.
"I shot you."
"In the back of your head."

The bullet blinded me, and I lost a lot of blood.

Mom and Dad stayed at my hospital bedside and prayed 24/7.

On the fifth day the doctors told my parents, "If he lives he'll be a blubbering idiot," rather harsh, I'd say. And I think they were wrong.

On the eleventh day I walked out of the hospital with my sight coming back very well.

Over the years my late brother Don (he helped us start Children's Cup in 1992) would call me at random times and the only thing he's say was, "Well, you lived." Then he'd hang up laughing.

Yes, I lived and what a life God has given me.

Ask me if I believe in healings and miracles...

Sunday, March 18, 2007


Nancy Reagan was asked what was the hardest thing to deal with during President Reagan’s years of Alzheimer’s.
“Not being able to share our memories together.”
Her words summed up a lot about companionship.

One of the great joys of added years is remembering where we have been, what has happened, and what we have shared—some hard, some wonderful, but all connecting our lives together.

Who doesn’t remember great marker-moments of growing up:
the strength of daddy’s arms as he hugged you,
the gentle haven of mommy’s embrace,
the first day of school,
the first award for achievement,
the first time you were allowed to take the family car out alone,
the first date,
the first kiss,
the first time you told me, “I love you,”
the wedding and becoming one,
(and from here on a lot of our two memories merge into one)
the baby’s first cries,
the first time our child said, “I love you,”
the first arrival on the mission field,
the births of our grandchildren,
and on and on the list grows.

Throughout our 48 years of marriage, one or the other of us has asked, “Want a flash-back?” And together we will remember an experience or conversation we had shared years ago.

We are blessed with flash-backs from all over the globe—America, Asia, Europe, Latin America, Australia, and Africa.

Flash-backs of faces and eyes of people whose lives we have been able to see changed with Jesus’ love.

Every memory is another link between our very souls.

Sometimes it brings laughter, maybe a warm tear, but always a sense of, “We shared that. It’s part of our lives. Nothing can take that away from us. In fact, it is us—it’s who we have become together.”

Too limiting to say we are the sum of our memories—certainly we are so much more—but what a great part memories play in shaping us.

I’m remembering a wonderful old song from my childhood days in church,
“Precious memories,
“How they linger.
“How they ever flood my soul.”

Thanks for the memories, Jean. I love you MTYLTT.

Friday, March 16, 2007


The prognosis is good!

Not as bad as originally diagnosed.

God is intervening.

Thanks for praying.

Thursday, March 15, 2007


Dr. Beyda just brought another medical team to conduct clinics for our AIDS orphans and vulnerable children sites in Swaziland and Mozambique.

He is hospitalized right now in neighboring South Africa having an attack of kidney stones--very painful and risking renal failure.

This leading Arizona physician has selflessly established the Children's Cup medical program and clinic--much at his own personal expense. He loves God and travels the world conducting clinics for hurting people who could never repay him.

I love and respect this man and am asking God to restore his full health.

Will you join me?

Sunday, March 11, 2007


Parents, spouses, pastors, laity, employees, employers, friends--I can't even begin to name all candidates.

There is awesome power in authenticity and purity!

Friday, March 09, 2007


Thoughts determine attitudes.
Attitudes determine actions.

"Finally, bretheren, whatsoever things are true,
whatsoever things are honest,
whatsoever things are just,
whatsoever things are pure,
whatsoever things are lovely,
whatsoever things are of good report;
if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise
think on these things.

Wednesday, March 07, 2007


Around the curve

Beautiful car
wasn't it?

Burma Shave

Tuesday, March 06, 2007


Your birth 32 years ago today brought great joy into our home in Manila, Philippines.

What a delight to watch you grow up in Jesus in Asia, Europe, America and now Africa.

Now your giving birth to three of our grandchildren has multiplied these joys for us.

We are so proud of you and your family. We love you so much.

Mom and Dad


A young girl in Zimbabwe trying to survive by prostitution was overheard to say, “It’s better to die of AIDS than of hunger--to die quickly than to starve to death.”

This hell-spawned lie is sweeping through the youth of Zimbabwe and other African countries.

The antidote is hope.

Hope’s name is Jesus.

Friday, March 02, 2007


Mayhem in the city center.

Noise, racing engines, squealing brakes, bus horns, yelling people.

Jostling, aching bodies laden with burdens of groceries or tools and babies—one on the back and one or two toddlers beside.

Toyota van buses jockeying like ants for position to enter or leave Mbabane’s bus rank. (In America we’d call it a bus station. Maybe “rank” fits it better here because of the smells and flaring tempers, and crime.)

Petrol and diesel fumes belch into the air and choke and cloy the throat.

For thousands of Swazis this is a twice-a-day battle. Buses are their only choice for transportation.

Tens of thousands of lives intersect here.

There’s another bus rank. It’s at the foot of history’s most infamous hill—Golgatha--a site chosen by Rome to display its most dastard deed. Everybody would see the Crucified One here and shudder at Roman power.

Interesting: locals tell us that Jesus was not crucified up on top of the hill but rather at its base in Jerusalem’s garbage dump—right at a major traffic-point for the city.

One thing for sure, everybody saw it. Many shuddered. Those that knew the Nazarene wept. As Jesus hung there you can be sure priests in the temple were smugly rejoicing that the rabble rouser was getting justice.

Imagine their shock and the mayhem when the temple veil suddenly rent open and totally exposed the Holiest of all places—the place where forgiveness could be received. The core structure of their exclusive access to God was destroyed.

Not just tens of thousands but all of humanity’s lives would intersect here. Amid all the jostlings, chokings, achings of life Golgotha’s cross stands accessible to all—not just an intersection but a decision-point—the place where forgiveness can be received.

Saturday, February 24, 2007


Joyce (a Swazi employee) “just happened” to look out the open back door at our daughter’s home here in Swaziland. It was night before last after nine o’clock.

She saw a man crouched down at the patio about to come into the house.

Joyce screamed for me to come and the intruder ran off.

Jean and I were watching our three grandkids there waiting for Ben and Sue to get back from a ministry trip into South Africa.

There has been a marked increase in night-time break-ins when people are actually in the home. The intruders’ intent is robbery plus terrorizing the people and brutally attacking them. Some of our friends have just been through this—one man and his mother were hacked on their heads with big knives—dozens of stitches.

The police answered our call (unarmed and without even a flashlight), Ben and Sue arrived and we checked out the premises.

Their two Boerbull dogs had been poisoned. (The dogs are recovering well.)

The electric fence and alarm had been cut.

This was a well planned job—but God had a bigger plan!

Please let this event encourage you to pray for your missionaries’ safety on the field. I tell our family and staff, “The safest place to be is in God’s will.” It is true and God keeps proving it over and over—but that doesn’t mean we live uncautiously with no regard for the safety of our families.

“He gives His angels charge over you to keep you in all your ways.” Psalms 91:11

So glad to report, “GOD DID IT AGAIN!”

Wednesday, February 21, 2007


Jean and I will be back in the USA May through September, 2007.

We plan to be "on the road again" most of that time across America visiting friends and donors.

If you, your fellowship group or your church would like to have us stop by to bring up-to-date reports and videos from Africa please contact our USA office at 225-673-4505 or email Jean and me at

We are right now in the process of setting up the routing we'll take--would love to include seeing you.

Saturday, February 17, 2007


Trinity Lynn, our three-year-old granddaughter and her brother, six-year-old Levi, spent last night at our house.

(Kayla and her mother were hosting an all night "Chick Night" for several missionary ladies in Swaziland--bet they didn't sleep much.)

Before Trinity and Levi went to bed they each came to me at different times and said, "I really love you, Pop!" and gave me a big tight hug.

Do you know what that did to me?

Those moments were second only to the first time Jean said, "I love you."

Our grandchildren Kayla, Levi, and Trinity have lived most of their lives in Africa where the risks are higher and so are the joys. Experiences I used to dream about as a child are commonplace to them.

We are a blessed family.

Friday, February 16, 2007


Jean got it right away--took me longer.

We just received an email from our youngest son Josh. All it said was "#13."

It means our 13th grandchild is coming!

If you are a grandparent you'll understand our joy and our saying that the older you get, the more your life is about your children and grandchildren.

Jean and I are blessed with 12--soon to be 13--of the smartest, most beautiful, God-lovingest, Pop and Meemaw-lovingest grandkids in the world. That is said absolutely without bias 'cuz it's true...

We thank God every day for our children and how they are raising our grandchildren to know Jesus.

Who is more blessed than Jean and me?

Saturday, February 10, 2007


Ben and I just got back from Zimbabwe. What an awesome time we had with Pastor Dixon and his wife Chipo--dear friends for the last decade.

We have watched them face the famine, crime fed by 80% unemplayment, political mayhem and hostility to the Gospel. They have faced risks few Americans could ever concieve of. Last time Ben and I were there we were robbed.

Pastor Dixon is now the Children's Cup director for Zimbabwe. They are planting a new church (Oasis of Life Church) that will also mother a CarePoint for orphans and vulnerable children.

We'll keep you posted on the developments so you can witness with us God's awesome hand in this project.

Pray for this couragous, anointed couple--and their great kids Tanashe and Faith (Jean and I have them in about the same category as our own grandkids.)

Thursday, February 01, 2007


Or is it?

Stand with us at the temple entrance in Macao. Watch as a hard working lady pays her day’s wages to the priest. She’s exchanging her money for hell money.

She steps over to an open fire altar and throws the hell money into the flames--a day’s wages flare up into blaze and smoke. In seconds it’s gone.

Her religion tells her that by doing this she can actually send funds to her loved one in hell to buy a little relief from the torment.

Was it her parent? Her husband? Her child?

There’s more. They say if you give the priest enough money to buy a home or a vehicle, he will make paper models to burn and send them to hell for your loved one.

That cruel laugh echoing through the smoldering caverns of hell is the devil—the deceiver.

Hell money is a joke—a cruel deception!

The enemy of all souls knows that the price of redemption was already paid on Calvary.

Salvation is free!

Jesus’ blood bought it.

Hurting people need to know this.

I’m asking you, “Are you willing to forego a day’s wages to tell them?” How many people can we reach with a day’s wages?

I’m asking me, “Am I willing to forego having a nice home so we can go tell them?”

I don’t think the flame of that burning hell money will ever go out in my mind, nor do I want it to.

Sunday, January 28, 2007


“And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony,” Revelation 12:11

Your story, your testimony of how you came to Christ can be a powerful witnessing tool on the mission field.

We’d like to compile as many testimonies as we can to use as witnessing tracts and booklets in English, SiSwati and other languages.

Write your story on one page one side and send it to the Children’s Cup office (PO Box 400, Prairieville, LA 70769-0400) or email it to Dave ( Your sending it to us affirms your permission to publish it free for distribution and to edit it for space and readability.

I think this is a wonderful way for you to partner with us to win the lost.

Don’t wait—send it today!

Saturday, January 27, 2007


What did it mean when Jean and I had the same frightful dream in the same night?

Morning in Manila is always muggy. The noisy air conditioner had kept the bedroom cool, but I awoke soaked with perspiration.
"What a nightmare," I thought.
The troubling, yet impelling dream was still in vivid detail in my mind. There seemed a sense of significance I couldn't shake.
In the dream I was a captive of angry men. Something I had written had incensed them and they were taking revenge.

"What if something like that would happen?" I wondered.
I looked across the pillow at my wife Jean. Her sleep was troubled.

The ancient air conditioner clunked on and off. When it ran it vibrated and made the metal window frames buzz.
Jean could handle anything but I hated to think of her ever having to face such a problem.
While I watched her, she awoke. She rolled toward me and wrapped her arms tightly around my neck.
What she said startled me.
"Honey, I just had the most awful dream. It was about you!" she wept.
Somehow I knew what she had dreamed. The room filled with an immediate presence of the supernatural as she continued.
"Oh, Dave,” she sobbed, "It was horrible. They had arrested you for something you had written."
Other details she added matched my dream exactly.
"Jean, I just dreamed the same thing!"
We looked anxiously into each other's eyes and silently held the embrace tighter. I know her mind was racing like mine was.
Surely having the same dream was not a coincidence--or could it have been.
If it was of supernatural origin was it God preparing us or the devil trying to frighten us into inaction?
I knew I would never forget the event.

In the dream I never did succumb to the captors' torture and never said anything that would grieve the Lord. Yet, throughout the dream I kept feeling I had gone the limit of my endurance and I would very soon say whatever they wanted me to say.

I dressed and went downstairs to the office. On an old steno pad the kids had scribbled on I let my pen explore the dream and my thoughts as I tried to sort through all the spiritual issues involved.

Telling it in the third person, my pen sped the words across the pages:

Soon it would start.
He knew his captors would be able to break his body and his mind with their drugs and torture. Fear had already brought a quivering tenseness to his body.
The captive swallowed, looked his interrogator in the eyes and spoke.
"I know that soon you can have me screaming in pain. Your drugs and torture can take away my reason and control.
"But, it would be your own deed that speaks back to you from that pain--not my reasoning mind.
"No doubt you can make me curse my family, even my mother, or worse yet maybe even I would grieve my Savior Jesus. But know this--it would not be me that was speaking. That part of me that is real and sane will have its refuge in Christ.
"Do you think that just because you bludgeon a mother's son into cursing her that she would not wrap her arms around his broken body and say through her tears, 'I love you, Son. Don't worry, I know that it wasn't you that spoke!'
"My Heavenly Father knows my heart right now while it is truly me that speaks.
"How much more than a mother would He forgive me even if I said the things you want?"
The captive talked fast. There was one more thing to say before pain exploded in his mind. It wouldn't be easy to say but he had to.
"Just as my Heavenly Father will forgive me, so do I forgive you for what you are doing to me. God will even forgive you if you ask Him."
Their eyes locked. And held.
His body trembled as he braced for the onslaught of pain that would surely come now.
The moment seemed to last forever. He watched his captor's eyes as they stared unseeing into his own.
The captive's words had stunned the torturer. They took him face-to-face with his own heart.
Tighter and tighter the captive's muscles tensed as he readied for the electric fire of pain.
He saw the captor's eyes suddenly narrow into blazing hatred.
And in a burst of fury it started.
The blast of pain seared through every nerve and thundered in his mind. It was like the pain had pulled all of his mind into suspense in the present. There was no past, no future, only an unending duration of pain.
Nothing really changed, yet it seemed to the captive like he had become just an observer of his own body's torture. He--the real part of him--was someplace else. With Someone else.
Aloft in Christ.
He knew that down there his body was in agony, but up here there was a calm and a warm knowing feeling.
In that warm presence of the Heavenly Father he was standing as a forgiver of his fellowmen, and as one who was himself forgiven.
"Don't worry, my Son, you didn't betray me.
"Just stay here with me."

As I sit here at a computer keyboard years have passed. These words could almost be some melodrama plot from a rampant imagination.
But they're not.
I still do not know the dream's significance, but I know it was not melodrama when an officer of the KGB risked his life and mine to meet me and tell me of his love for Jesus.
There was no sense of theater whenever I met with church leaders in brutally hostile anti-Christian areas. Often, we wept together as we remembered the ones who had been imprisoned and tortured to death since they came to our last meeting.
I have known the terror of being taken captive (They were after ransom. When they learned I had no money and nobody would pay for me they let me go).
An African employee--a relief truck driver--was captured and tortured for six weeks. What a testimony this one is! He led most of his fellow captives to the Lord.
I have heard an informant's spine-chilling whisper in my ear that there was a contract out on my life.
Since the dream it has been years of travel into some of the countries of the world most hostile to America and even more hostile to the Gospel.
God has called me to hard places.

Now, as I write this, I still do not know what all it means, but long ago I had to deal with it and have decided. Whether it means anything or not, I will never let the dream intimidate me.
What I know for sure is that this dream is a threshold I've had to step over. It seems important now to make a public statement on this.
As long as I have life and strength to do it, I'll go wherever He wants me to go, and I will write whatever God's Holy Spirit would use my pen to say--anytime, anywhere!

"My tongue is the pen of a ready writer..." Psalms 45:1

Thursday, January 25, 2007


When Jesus said, "Come," He meant, "Come all the way."
When He said, "Go," He meant, "Go all the way."

Wednesday, January 24, 2007


Good goals must be:

1. Biblical
2. Believable
3. Conceivable
4. Achievable
5. Measurable
6. Without Alternatives
7. Desirable


I feel an urgency to write—like if I could just scratch through the whiteness of this paper, the pent up words would just burst forth.

But what subject?

There are so many things trying to get said in my mind. They fight for the gate to get out and they get all clogged up. There seems to be a mechanical impedance.

There are so many things that need words—hearts that need healing, gratitudes to be expressed, wrongs to be addressed, untold ones needing to be told about Jesus; all waiting for words.

I wonder how He feels—the Original Word Speaker. He started words. He wants his Word to bring life to everyone. But, only those who have heard His Word can tell it to others. How saddened He must be to see that so few of those that have heard ever tell others.

We can so easily become an impedance to the flow of the Word.

Fill your pens.
Run your presses.
Pound your keyboards.
Roll your cameras.
Amplify and multiply the Word in every way known to man!

Monday, January 22, 2007


Breakdowns on African highways are scary.

Car-jackings and worse are common on the road.

Missionaries Doug and Tasha Myers were about half way into a three hour drive to Nelspruit, South Africa when their SUV broke down. In the car were Doug and Tasha (Tasha was in route to a doctor appointment to deal with a back injury--in great pain),an intern missionary lady new to Africa, Kayden (3), Kylea (6), and infant Carsten.

We just happened to be an hour behind them and by the great missionary tool called a cell phone we learned of their plight--but we were still an hour away.

Doug remembered the name of a pastor in Bad Plaas, the nearest town, and called him.
This kind pastor drove to the site, reduced their vulnerability to danger, helped Doug arrange for a tow truck and even loaned him his car to drive on to Nelspruit.

("The Ghost and The Darkness" movie was filmed at Bad Plaas, so if you've seen the movie you've seen the countryside we were in.)

We arrived and picked up Kayden and Kylea (the pastor's car was too small to carry everybody). Ben and Susan, Dave & Jean, Kayla, Levi, and Trinity squeezed together in Ben's van. We just adopted the kids for the rest of the day.

Perhaps the greatest miracle is that the auto dealer whose earlier repair job on Doug's car had gone bad gave them several hundred dollars for lodging and extra expense--and rented a van for their use until their own van was fixed. That never happens in Africa! Probably not even in America.

Why tell this? To me it is a grand example of the body of Christ in action. People of different races and different denominations and even a secular business got together and solved a crisis.

And, yes, Tasha's back injury pain is lessening.

Would you join the rescue and pray for this great young couple? Especially for Tasha's back injury.

Tuesday, January 16, 2007


If the Gospel be hidden, it is hidden within the walls of the church.

The church is the only force that can stop the Gospel from going forth.

Monday, January 15, 2007


Ben and I just got back home to Swaziland after two weeks of meetings and planning sessions in good old USA.

Mind-blowing opportunities are emerging--a heavy burden indeed.

And what a privelege!