Several years ago a young missionary that was planning to go to Central America visited us at our mission work in Mexicali, Mexico. So I invited him to preach. His being new in the Spanish language I offered to translate for him. But, he assured me that he was fluent in the language and felt confident he could preach in Spanish just fine.
Here I must make an explanation -- in the Spanish Bible the word for a baby donkey is POLLINO, a word from Spain; but not used in Central American Spanish. The word for a baby CHICKEN is POLLITO only one letter different.
Now. to continue the story -- the young missionary preached on the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. HOWEVER, when he came to the word, POLLINO (baby donkey) he said POLLITO (baby chicken). The people, being polite tried not to laugh. BUT, it became more and more difficult. He was describing how it was a POLLITO (baby chicken) that was tied close to its mother. And how the disciple told the owner that Jesus needed the baby chicken. How it was a baby chicken upon whom no man had ever sat. How it was not rebellious when Jesus sat on it. (Although we knew what he meant, by this time all of us were fighting hard not to laugh at the sight he was describing.)
He further explained that they were putting their clothes on him and casting palm branches in his path; but the baby chicken just kept going. After he finished his task he was taken back to his mother bearing the honor of having carried the Lord into Jerusalem as no other baby chicken had ever done!. Sad to say, we were all relieved when he finished and we no longer ached from holding in our laughter.
As the people were leaving they were thanking him for the message but now widely grinning. He turned and asked me, "Brother Don, haven't you ever preached on this passage? The people acted as if they had never heard this." I replied, "Yes, I have preached on it but they had never heard your version." You can imagine how he felt when I explained to him what he had done! But, I imagine, like me, he has probably made many other errors in Spanish. Only, I'm not telling mine. Bro Don
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
The largest funeral we have ever held on the mission field or anywhere else.
It was late on a Saturday several years ago when the warning was given to the upper Baja that an El Niño storm was headed towards us, especially towards Rosarito. Many places along the coast were evacuated. Then the storm hit in the wee hours of Sunday morning and as the gray Sunday dawned the devastation was seen on all sides! We decided to go ahead with the services and assigned some of the young workers to start the services while we checked on members.
Going to the top of a bridge overlooking an area where a large family of our membership lived we were horrified to see nothing but a vacant lot! The house was completely gone. But, a young mother of the family came running hysterically to the bridge, followed by her teenage brother and sister.
The horrible story unfolded. They had awakened to water coming into the little wooden house and began to get the children in their arms. They knew they had to get out. The young mother had two small children under her arms, the teenage girl had the baby and the teenage boy had his mother by the hand. Suddenly, as they were stepping into the water just outside, a wall of water came roaring down the gap where the house stood and they were all suddenly in the swift churning water. A dirt dam a farmer had built to divert the water to his crops had broken.
As the house collapsed the corner of the roof fell on the grandmother and she was jerked out of the boys hands. The teenage girl had the baby swept out of her hands. The young mother was tumbling in the water when she felt two young bodies and threw them on a roof of a house they were passing. The two teenagers and the young mother escaped to find the children that were tossed on the roof were, in fact, neighbor children. The grandmother and the three grandchildren were gone!
Later thar day their bodies were found in a morgue after they had been dug out of the mud some blocks from the home. Then began the task of preparing for the funeral. They were just 4 of many bodies that were recovered. There was not time nor facilities to embalm all the recovered bodies so as soon as they were cleaned up and put in caskets we met at the church for their funeral services. By this time it was nighttime What a sight -- those four caskets lined across the front of that little mission church! What a night we spent with the grieving family! They were buried the next day. That was a big task for us, But His grace is always sufficient! Bro Don
Going to the top of a bridge overlooking an area where a large family of our membership lived we were horrified to see nothing but a vacant lot! The house was completely gone. But, a young mother of the family came running hysterically to the bridge, followed by her teenage brother and sister.
The horrible story unfolded. They had awakened to water coming into the little wooden house and began to get the children in their arms. They knew they had to get out. The young mother had two small children under her arms, the teenage girl had the baby and the teenage boy had his mother by the hand. Suddenly, as they were stepping into the water just outside, a wall of water came roaring down the gap where the house stood and they were all suddenly in the swift churning water. A dirt dam a farmer had built to divert the water to his crops had broken.
As the house collapsed the corner of the roof fell on the grandmother and she was jerked out of the boys hands. The teenage girl had the baby swept out of her hands. The young mother was tumbling in the water when she felt two young bodies and threw them on a roof of a house they were passing. The two teenagers and the young mother escaped to find the children that were tossed on the roof were, in fact, neighbor children. The grandmother and the three grandchildren were gone!
Later thar day their bodies were found in a morgue after they had been dug out of the mud some blocks from the home. Then began the task of preparing for the funeral. They were just 4 of many bodies that were recovered. There was not time nor facilities to embalm all the recovered bodies so as soon as they were cleaned up and put in caskets we met at the church for their funeral services. By this time it was nighttime What a sight -- those four caskets lined across the front of that little mission church! What a night we spent with the grieving family! They were buried the next day. That was a big task for us, But His grace is always sufficient! Bro Don
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Some young Mexican university students receive th Gospel
Some years ago we were travelling down a pothole filled Mexican highway in an old, overloaded bus. It was a hot night and the bus was not air-conditioned. I felt led to start a conversation with two university students seated in front of us. Of course, Satan was telling me these finely educated young Mexican men would not be interested in what an old Gringo had to say about RELIGION. But, finally I gave each of them a Gospel tract and leaned back, having "done my duty".
After reading the tract one turned around in his seat and began to ask me some sincere questions. I soon warmed to my game and was giving him his very own Bible lesson. His seatmate was listening to all of it. When I finally asked him if he wanted to invite Christ into his heart not only did he respond in the affirmative but, his seatmate did so also. I was SHOCKED when I heard other voices behind me responding also. I turned to see several others had formed a little congregation behind me in the aisle. There were over a dozen that accepted Christ at that moment. JUST AT THAT VERY MOMENT the bus stopped beside the road and the two students and several others got off. The original young man that asked the first question stepped back on the steps of the bus and told me if he never saw me again on this earth he'd see me in Glory.
When I sat back in my seat I was SWEATING, not from the heat of the night, but because of the reality of the fact -- if I had waited a little longer it would have been too late! WOW! That was close!
After reading the tract one turned around in his seat and began to ask me some sincere questions. I soon warmed to my game and was giving him his very own Bible lesson. His seatmate was listening to all of it. When I finally asked him if he wanted to invite Christ into his heart not only did he respond in the affirmative but, his seatmate did so also. I was SHOCKED when I heard other voices behind me responding also. I turned to see several others had formed a little congregation behind me in the aisle. There were over a dozen that accepted Christ at that moment. JUST AT THAT VERY MOMENT the bus stopped beside the road and the two students and several others got off. The original young man that asked the first question stepped back on the steps of the bus and told me if he never saw me again on this earth he'd see me in Glory.
When I sat back in my seat I was SWEATING, not from the heat of the night, but because of the reality of the fact -- if I had waited a little longer it would have been too late! WOW! That was close!
A food box leads to salvation.
Some years ago one of our Mexican pastors was distributing some food boxes we had received from CHILDREN'S HUNGER FUND. The city was Ensenada on the Baja Peninsula of Mexico. The pastor was walking down the streets of that city with some of the boxes when he was approached by a small boy asking what was in the boxes. The pastor patiently explained and noticed the child immediately became excited upon finding out it was food.
He began to plead with the pastor for a box. The pastor finally explained that the boxes had to be delivered to homes. He grabbed the pastor's hand and began dragging him along the street. Soon they came to a small and VERY humble one-room house. When the pastor entered the house he saw a man with no legs lying on a cot.
The boy rushed over to his dad and said in Spanish whose translation is "See Daddy! I TOLD you God would give us some food!" Through misty eyes the pastor watched as the little boy, that could hardly reach the stove, began putting on water to boil to prepare the macaroni that was in the box. The pastor began witnessing to the man. .Soon the smell of the spices in the added sauce began to reach the pastor's nostrils. Such a humble meal but SO precious to the little boy that had gone into the streets to look for food. You see, there are no governmental handouts for people like this in Mexico!
That night the church had their weekly Prayer Meeting service. The hearts of the people were touched when the pastor pulled up to the front door of the church and carried the legless man from his car into the church. At the conclusion of the preaching the man asked a man nearby to carry him to the altar so he could receive Christ as his personal Savior.
While packing that box some time earlier in the warehouse in Pacoima, California that volunteer did so with the hope it would reach someone for Christ. In all the boxes sent out there is only One who knows who packed that particular box and who transported it to Mexico. But, one day in Glory that man will come skipping down the Golden Streets to bump into those that brought him MUCH more than a box of food.
It SHORE IS FUN TO SERVE JESUS, AIN'T IT? What small deed have you done recently that could be used by God to bring just one more soul to Christ? Bro Don
He began to plead with the pastor for a box. The pastor finally explained that the boxes had to be delivered to homes. He grabbed the pastor's hand and began dragging him along the street. Soon they came to a small and VERY humble one-room house. When the pastor entered the house he saw a man with no legs lying on a cot.
The boy rushed over to his dad and said in Spanish whose translation is "See Daddy! I TOLD you God would give us some food!" Through misty eyes the pastor watched as the little boy, that could hardly reach the stove, began putting on water to boil to prepare the macaroni that was in the box. The pastor began witnessing to the man. .Soon the smell of the spices in the added sauce began to reach the pastor's nostrils. Such a humble meal but SO precious to the little boy that had gone into the streets to look for food. You see, there are no governmental handouts for people like this in Mexico!
That night the church had their weekly Prayer Meeting service. The hearts of the people were touched when the pastor pulled up to the front door of the church and carried the legless man from his car into the church. At the conclusion of the preaching the man asked a man nearby to carry him to the altar so he could receive Christ as his personal Savior.
While packing that box some time earlier in the warehouse in Pacoima, California that volunteer did so with the hope it would reach someone for Christ. In all the boxes sent out there is only One who knows who packed that particular box and who transported it to Mexico. But, one day in Glory that man will come skipping down the Golden Streets to bump into those that brought him MUCH more than a box of food.
It SHORE IS FUN TO SERVE JESUS, AIN'T IT? What small deed have you done recently that could be used by God to bring just one more soul to Christ? Bro Don
Friday, March 9, 2012
AND THEY CAME
Several years ago we made some trips into an Indian village outside of Ensenada, Mexico. There are several tribes within an hour's drive. We had shown a Gospel film at Christmastime in SPANISH and shared some food with them. HOWEVER, they mostly spoke a dialect so we were a little discouraged.
A couple of winters later we had TORRENTIAL rains in the area. It was devastating even in the city. When the rains had stopped, I was standing in front of the church in Ensenada when two humble-looking men came walking towards me hesitantly. I recognized them as from on of the indigenous tribes. They hesitated a few feet away and I knew they were wondering if that Gringo spoke Spanish. I have become accustomed to that so approached them and greeted them. In their broken Spanish they told me they were looking for an American missionary that had come to their area about two years ago. His name was Kiser. I identified myself and asked how I could help them.
They explained that the floods had washed away their little church and some of their homes. I WAS TOUCHED! I told them to come with me into the church and I would see if we had some clothes and at least beans to share.
They hesitated and chattered to one another in their dialect. OH< NO! They probably wanted money. Finally, they explained to me that was not what they had come for clothes or food. They had lost all their BIBLES and Gospel tracts in Spanish in the flood. (They told me there was no Bible translated in their dialect.) That was what they were pleading for. There have been few times in my ministry when I felt more humbled. I was thinking PHYSICALLY; they were thinking SPIRITUALLY. God forgive me! We are now planning to once again visit some of those tribes in the VERY near future. Missionary Don Kiser and proud of it and humbled by it!
A couple of winters later we had TORRENTIAL rains in the area. It was devastating even in the city. When the rains had stopped, I was standing in front of the church in Ensenada when two humble-looking men came walking towards me hesitantly. I recognized them as from on of the indigenous tribes. They hesitated a few feet away and I knew they were wondering if that Gringo spoke Spanish. I have become accustomed to that so approached them and greeted them. In their broken Spanish they told me they were looking for an American missionary that had come to their area about two years ago. His name was Kiser. I identified myself and asked how I could help them.
They explained that the floods had washed away their little church and some of their homes. I WAS TOUCHED! I told them to come with me into the church and I would see if we had some clothes and at least beans to share.
They hesitated and chattered to one another in their dialect. OH< NO! They probably wanted money. Finally, they explained to me that was not what they had come for clothes or food. They had lost all their BIBLES and Gospel tracts in Spanish in the flood. (They told me there was no Bible translated in their dialect.) That was what they were pleading for. There have been few times in my ministry when I felt more humbled. I was thinking PHYSICALLY; they were thinking SPIRITUALLY. God forgive me! We are now planning to once again visit some of those tribes in the VERY near future. Missionary Don Kiser and proud of it and humbled by it!
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