Category: Missionary Outreach

Our journey starts at the birthplace of our Lord in Bethlehem.

There is border separating Bethlehem from Jerusalem. This 20′ wall was erected in 2005  to impede bombing from the West Bank into Jerusalem. Depending on who you ask, the wall is either a great asset, or is referred to as an “Apartheid Wall.” This adversely affects the citizens of Bethlehem, because of the red tape to cross the border many pilgrims no longer visit the birthplace of our Lord. We cannot come to the Holy Land without this divine encounter.

It’s Holy Week and the Church of the Nativity was crowded with many foreigners. There was a Russian Mass being held on the upper level as we made our way down stairs to the actual birth site of Jesus. I placed all the prayer requests and asked God’s Holy intervention. We were quickly shuffled out to make room for the other pilgrims. Jane and I found an empty bench inches from the site, and had an intimate time with God. Even with the unruly crowd I still felt the powerful presence of The Holy Spirit.

This church also houses the cave of St. Jerome, who translated the Bible from Hebrew to Latin; this Bible is referred to the as “Vulgate.” St. Jerome died in Bethlehem but his remains are housed at St. Mary Major in Rome.

Our ministry team member have been guests of the 7 Arches Hotel for over 30 years. The 7 Arches recently experienced  a major facelift. The Hotel is located on the Mount of Olives overlooking the Old City. This is the site on Jesus’ second coming into the  Kidron Valley of Jerusalem (Zec. 14:4).

We currently share our meals with mostly Muslims from Burma,  Malaysia and many Chinese Christians. Few American dare venture into this mostly Arab section. We are different  because we know most of the staff and their benevolent gentle care for our group is most welcoming. The only complaint is the wifi, the hotel need to accommodate their guest with better service because only 60 people can use it at a time. I wake up early or stay up late to do my posting and Blogging.

Today is Holy Thursday and we will have a foot washing in the Upper Room, the same place where Jesus washed the feet of his disciples. From there we will practice the Passion for Good Friday’s reenactment of the carrying of the Cross on the Via Dolorosa. Please pray for us as we pray for you.

We are going to the Holy Land during Holy Week. It has been two years since our ministry team last visited the Holy Land. For over 30 years we have carried the Cross in drama down the Via Dolorosa. About nine years ago, Joanne, our ministry leader passed on the mantle of the role of the Blessed Mother to me. We reenact the 14 Stations of the Cross on Good Friday. This is a powerful witness to all pilgrims visiting the Holy Land to see first hand what Jesus endured for our sins. It is also a great witness worldwide, as media from many countries feed this through the airwaves.

We enter through the Lion’s Gate (also know as Stephen’s Gate) of the Old City and walk up a steep incline to reach the Praetorium. It is in this area that we apply the stage blood on Jesus. We are protected by both the Israeli Police and well as the Israeli Army. They surround our group, encircling us as we go through the Stations of the Cross. We need this protection because otherwise we would be trampled by the crowds and the media. Once we reach the Muslim section it gets pretty intense. They are not celebrating with us, and their reaction is not welcoming. Sometimes we get spat on and there is always a man with a real whip waiting to attack Jesus; the Israeli Army is always helpful in these situations. The Israeli Army form a wall with their arms locked to keep control of the crowd. Many pilgrims who follow, and are deeply moved by the drama. Jim, from our team will be playing Jesus this year. Jim, is a former real rocket scientist who gave up his six-figure salary to serve the Lord and has recently converted to Catholicism.  My role is portraying the Mother of Jesus. I will do what all mothers do in real life, which is protecting our children. Both Jim and I are spiritually transformed. As I portray the Mother of God, the tears that I shed are real and I cannot control what overcomes me. I just feel the deep empathy of a mother in great pain for her child. I am praying for the needs of others as well, at this time.

We are prayer warriors, and our intention is to pray the entire time we are in the Holy Land. Once my friend Pat (from the ministry) and I had prayer requests that were to be left at the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. The problem was that we were leaving that afternoon at 1 PM to catch a flight home. Both Pat and I determined that it was important to fulfill our duty to those that gave us the requests. The Church of the Holy Sepulcher opens at 6 AM so we decided to leave early.  We left the hotel by taxi, our Arabic taxi driver only spoke his native tongue, and we did our best in explaining the way to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. We were dropped us off at the Damascus Gate, which was unfamiliar to me. The Old City is small so I was confident that we could find our way. The Old City, which has nine gates, is composed of a Jewish Quarter, Muslim, Armenian, and Christian Quarters. We could hear Arabic speech, and the smell of strong coffee filled the morning air, but we were uncomfortable and did not feel safe. Suddenly, from a distance, we could see a group of rowdy young men coming toward us after what seemed to be a long night out for them. We felt so out of place and were trying to remain calm.  As the men came closer the more uneasy it was for us. I know the Old City well and would have eventually figured out how to get to the Church, but this was scary. Suddenly a lone man who seemed to be coming  from  no where, asked us, “What are you doing here?” I stated that we were on our way to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. He softly said to follow him. We did just that, he led us out of the Damascus Gate, and we walked around the Old City, and re-entered through the New Gate. Then the man said, ” is as far as I can go,” and pointed to the way of the Church. Pat and I were in complete agreement that we might have had an encounter with an angel. We walked into the nearly empty church, and prayed for several hours, before heading back to the hotel.

For years we have been staying at the Seven Arches Hotel. This hotel, which overlooks the Mount of Olives, provides a perfect view of the Old City, and the gold glistening from the Dome of the Rock serves as our landmark. The staff at the Seven Arches have been around as long as we have, and we have bonded with them, and forming a beautiful friendship with our Muslim hosts. We are excited to hear that the hotel has gone through some renovations, and including a new elevator and I hope new hair dryers as well.

Please forward your prayer request!

November 14, 2012

Two jeeps were needed to transport our group on a five-hour journey to the Tibet border for a three-day excursion into the Himalayan Mountains, where we would minister to more than 25 pastors and their families. We paid drivers to take us up one way and trusted God that vehicles and drivers would be available for the return — no Hertz reservations, just faith.

Our driver spoke no English, and though he was a seasoned coachman, he thought nothing of passing buses on dangerous curves — buses packed with passengers, goats, and chickens, every inch of space used, including the roof-mounted luggage racks carrying additional travelers. Along the way, we passed countless natural waterfalls, rushing rivers, and clusters of homes built just feet from the main road.

Zero Star Hotel

Brian, our host pastor, had informed us that we would be staying in a Zero Star Hotel. My first thought: kind of like camping? Once we arrived and settled in, Brian was proven right — no towels, no toilet paper, a bucket-flush latrine, windows without screens, and — best of all — a padlock on the outside of our door. We were also provided one pair of communal flip-flops to share, a concession to the perpetually wet bathroom floors. As night fell, the temperature dropped sharply; we slept in turtlenecks and pulled our heavy coats over us as extra blankets.

The Bhotekoshi River, which had been a steady companion by day, shifted its tune after dark — less ambient backdrop, more air conditioner in desperate need of repair. But the morning more than made up for it. Perfectly pitched birdsong, accompanied by what can only be described as nature’s own guitars, serenaded us with melodies that belong on no streaming service — only on God’s playlist.

Joanne, our director, informed us that we would be treating the pastors and their families to every meal. When I asked what that would cost, the answer came without hesitation: “Don’t worry about it — God will provide.” We took up an offering among our own group and covered every meal. It would not be the last lesson in humility on this journey.

A Detour and a Lesson

Before our meetings, my roommate Alida and I decided to take in the scenery. For a small stipend, we visited the Tatopani Hot Springs — walking along the roaring Bhotekoshi River, snapping photos, and losing ourselves in a paradise that awakened nearly every sense. Meanwhile, back at the Zero Star Hotel, the rest of the team was in prayer, preparing for the meetings ahead.

As Alida and I made our way back, I cracked the door open to find the entire group staring at us — wide-eyed and waiting for an explanation. Conviction set in immediately. I apologized for letting worldly distractions pull me away, a stern reprimand followed, and I quietly ordered myself a larger slice of humble pie for lunch.

Unlikely Friendships, Lasting Bonds

It was here that I met people who would become lifelong friends: our interpreter Bigyang, and Pastor Indra and his wife Jyoti Shrestha. Pastor Indra and Jyoti oversee an orphanage in the region and shepherd a local church as well. Bigyang is a pastor who travels village to village carrying the Good News to some of the most remote communities imaginable — and remote is an understatement. On foot, with minimal provisions, he and his team traverse this majestic mountain range with the faithfulness of a postman: rain or shine, they deliver.

Sessions of Grace and a Painful Return

The sessions were powerful — encouragement and faith poured forth in abundance, with each person receiving prayer. These were precious people who wanted us to stay longer. We promised to return soon.

Many living near the Tibet border lost loved ones in the devastating 7.9 earthquake of April 2015. Entire villages were destroyed by boulders and mudslides — and what the great tremor did not annihilate, the Bhotekoshi River returned to finish this past summer. Some of these people have no means to relocate to Kathmandu and continue to bear the consequences of life in a paradoxical paradise.

Among those displaced: Pastor Indra and Jyoti lost both their home and their orphanage, and were forced to move to Kathmandu, where they are still working to rebuild a semblance of normal life.

The road we once traveled is now nearly impassable. It is on foot that these faithful pastors make their way up into the mountains — because God’s work does not wait. The river claimed most of their electrical infrastructure, and generators are now essential for survival. If this stirs something in your heart and you would like to donate, please reach out directly.