A New Way for Us to Share Updates

As you can see, we haven't posted here for a while. We may return to using this blog, but for the past several months, we have been sharing our updates on our Epistle site. By visiting that page you will see a few of our posts, but to see them all, please consider subscribing to our newsletter!

Back in Bolivia (for a little while)

On Saturday, we set foot in Cochamba for the first time in more than a year and a half. We began the painful process of selling off everything in our house in Bolivia. We knew it would be difficult, but that would be an understatement. When we moved here, we went all-in, investing so much in the life we were building. We were able to ship some large and valuable items to Bolivia—including musical instruments, tools, and kitchen supplies—but we didn't realize it would be extremely difficult or costly to take things back to the USA when that time came. Then again, we didn't think much about it; we planned to establish a life here for the long haul and had no intention of moving back to the USA within just a few years.

Now, as we have to sell or donate almost all of our belongings, we are grieving the loss of the life and ministry we had and hoped to have in Bolivia. Yes, there is a heavy financial loss. But the deeper pain is saying goodbye to our life and relationships here, and to the hopes and dreams that are linked to so many of our possessions. On one hand, those are just material things. But they carry with them memories of the life that we had here in Bolivia, and the hopes of the life we would have.

A tote of camping gear represents the days and nights I hoped to spend in the villages of Bolivia, serving alongside my friends and teammates. The military cot in the corner causes me to reminisce about driving fifteen hours, sleeping in the school building of a remote village, then hiking for several hours to help a friend recover his damaged airplane. When I open that tote, I also can't help thinking of the camping trips with my kids that never happened and never will happen. 

There is a cabinet full of kitchen supplies that Tara carefully selected and brought to Bolivia over the course of several years. But they are more than just plastic and metal. They are the tools that she used to prepare many family meals and to bake cookies and cuñapes to bless our American and Bolivian friends. Those material possessions are an expression of her desire to make our home a hospitable place where everyone feels welcome and loved. We remember the many times that we hosted friends at our house and the meals we shared together as a family, and we grieve the loss of future opportunities to express Christ's love in Bolivia through hospitality.

On one hand, these are just things. But as we pare down our entire household to a few suitcases, we are processing many layers of loss. Please pray for us during these few weeks. 

Look Around

It seems simple enough, but how often do we go through our day without taking time to consider—to really pay attention—to the people around us? How many people do we pass by without as much as a fleeting thought? Whether I am busy, distracted, focused on my own issues and problems, or simply off in my own little world, it's easy to allow my thoughts to center around one person: me!

These past few weeks, we have been meeting with friends and ministry partners as we transition to a new place of missionary service. Though it's a lot of work, it is also a blessing to connect with so many people—many of whom we haven't seen in a long time. It is refreshing to catch up with old friends, and we have been blessed by the outpouring of support and encouragement as we move toward serving with Compass Aviation.

But there is also a flipside. For all of the happy faces and friendly greetings, we have found that many people are also struggling. When I ask people whether they have anything I can be praying for, it usually doesn't take long for them to come up with something. Whether it's a health problem, the death of a loved one, family issues, or something else, many are dealing with hurt, loss, and pain. Often, they deal with these things silently. It should not be this way! Why aren't we, the Church, loving each other and bearing each other's burdens? Why do so many people feel as if they have no place to turn for help, love, and support?

In my experience, there are a number of reasons for this. Sometimes we feel alone, as if no one will understand. Other times we simply don't know who we can talk to. We wonder how people will respond if we are open and honest. Will we be judged? Will we become the next topic in the church gossip ring? Will we be chastised for lacking faith? These worries and concerns can lead us to internalize our struggles and keep them hidden behind a facade. In some churches, it's believed that speaking negative words is tantamount to speaking curses over oneself or others, so struggles and hardships cannot be verbalized.

My point is not to write exhaustively about the reasons we keep our struggles quiet. Rather, it is to encourage you to stop and look around. Look at the people that you pass by every day—at work, at school, in your home. Maybe take a minute to ask how they are doing. Not as a greeting only, but to really ask how they are. Of course, that begs the question, "What do you do after they actually tell you?" That's an important question, but a question for another day. A place to start is taking time to look around with love and compassion, and ask the Lord to help us be a conduit of His love and peace to those around us.

Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.

Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. 

Colossians 3:12–17 

 

A New Invitation

We are excited to announce that we have been invited to join Compass Aviation, where Aaron will serve as a flight instructor and aircraft mechanic, working primarily with future missionary pilots and mechanics. Over the past couple of years, the Lord has used various people and circumstances to clarify the ministry areas to which we feel called and passionate about serving. At the same time, it's become clear that it was time to seek out a new sending organization due to evolving roles and expectations. We remain as committed as ever to reaching the nations with the Gospel, but our specific role will be changing. To reach every corner of the world with the truth about Jesus, some of his followers must be willing to go to the nations, and others must prepare and send them. We are still willing to go, but it seems that God is moving us into a season of preparing and sending—at least for the foreseeable future.

At Compass, we will help to train the next generation of missionary pilots and mechanics for the mission field. Aaron will serve as a flight instructor, mechanic, and inspector.  We have spent time praying and considering the areas in which the Lord has gifted us, and in which we are passionate about serving. Our ministry at Compass encompasses the following areas:

• Aviation (flight and maintenance). Aaron is a pilot, flight instructor, and aircraft mechanic/inspector, and is passionate about stewarding these skills well and investing in future missionary aviators. His desire is to teach and serve with technical excellence while caring well for people. We are also open to returning to an international field of service some day—either short- or long-term—if the Lord should open the door for that! 
• Encouraging other believers. Tara has always had a gift for connecting with other women and being a support and encouragement to them. Sometimes this has been in a formal ministry role, and other times it has been through natural relationships that she has developed through the church or community. Aaron also enjoys supporting and encouraging other missionaries, and saw this as an important part of his role as a missionary pilot. Wherever we are, we want our family to be a source of life and light to the people around us—not only as a witness to unbelievers, but as an encouragement to other followers of Jesus. 
• Teaching and mentoring. Aaron has always loved teaching, and flight instructing is no exception. Aaron enjoys instructing in technical subject areas, while also being a spiritual mentor. Technical expertise is important for missionary aviators, but that alone will not prepare a person for the mission field. That preparation must include interpersonal, emotional, and spiritual aspects as well.
• Cross-cultural and international missions. Even though will be based in the United States, we continue to be passionate about reaching the nations with the Gospel. Even as we live in the USA, we will seek out ways to be personally involved in going, as well as preparing and sending others to the world.

Though we all have room for growth, we believe that our experience and gifts have prepared us well to serve in these areas. They are areas that we are passionate about, in which others have affirmed us, and in which we have joyfully served in the past. As we look to the future, we are also considering how we can better prepare and position ourselves to be a resource for missionaries in need of healing, rest, and encouragement. We are excited to see how the Lord will weave our unique passions and life experiences together so that we can better serve Him and bring Him glory.

Longing for a place to call home

Can you feel homesick when you don’t have a home? Lately, I have found myself longing to be home, while simultaneously realizing that I no longer have one—not on this planet, anyway. They say that home is where the heart is, but there is something to be said for having a place that feels like home.

Longing for home is a topic I've explored from a different angle before, but now we are facing the reality of moving out of our houses in the United States and in Bolivia, and we are unsure of where we are going next. Our plan was for our home in Bolivia to be a familiar place for our college-age children to return to—despite being on a different continent. But now that we have made the decision to leave Bolivia, we will be saying goodbye to our house in Cochabamba.

There is a part of me that longs to return to a place filled with family memories, where I can recline in a comfortable chair or in my hammock, sipping a good cup of coffee in a relaxing and welcoming environment. I wish that we had a place to host guests or to share a meal with family and friends. But such a place now exists only in my imagination.

Once again, I am reminded that the present world is only temporary. We have the hope that one day we will be resurrected to new life, in which we will enjoy all of the pleasures and peace that this broken world cannot offer. All that we enjoy now is a shadow of the things that are to come!

A New Semester Begins

Tuesday evening was opening night for the Melbourne, Florida chapter of Wings of Grace. A room full of teenagers and their parents gathered to share a meal and kick off the new semester. It was encouraging to see several familiar faces and to meet several students who are new to the program. We have the great privilege of building into the lives of these teens, not only by teaching them aviation and life skills, but by sharing with them the truth of God's Word and setting an example of what it looks like to walk with Jesus.

I was reminded last night that ministry is really about people. I enjoy flying and maintaining airplanes, but what really excites me is using aviation to serve, help, and minister to others—whether they live in a remote Bolivian jungle, or right here in the United States. As I stood with the other mentors in front of the students and their parents, I experienced a mix of excitement and sadness. I am excited that I can build into these teens during our Tuesday night meetings and by working alongside them on designated service days. But I also felt discouraged that I can't participate in teaching the students to fly, since I still don't have my certified flight instructor (CFI) certificate.

We would like to trust the Lord to provide for me to get my CFI certificate as soon as possible, but as with many things in life, time and money have been standing in my way. I have studied for and passed the two required knowledge tests, but still have a lot of preparation to do before I can take my oral and practical exams. Despite my best intentions, I have found it challenging to devote the time necessary to studying. With an endless supply of airplanes needing maintenance, I have devoted most of my time to fixing them—not flying them—and have not had the time to prepare the lessons that I will need to teach during my oral and practical tests.

Would you pray and trust the Lord to provide the resources so that I can become a CFI soon? During our two years in the United States, I would love to be able to instruct with Wings of Grace Ministries (as we had planned to do). This would not only be an excellent opportunity to disciple and mentor young people, but would also help me to stay proficient as I look forward to returning to Bolivia as a missionary pilot. There is an instructor at Wings of Grace who is willing to help me prepare for the CFI exam, but he has limited time and lives in another state. If I had the funds, I could devote a few weeks to take an intensive course and earn my flight instructor certificate in a very short time. For that to become a reality, the Lord would need to provide the funds or a reduced-cost option. 

We don't make a lot of direct appeals, but the semester has already started and we want to make the most of our time. I have always enjoyed teaching, and being a flight instructor would allow me to continue to train and build into future missionary pilots for the next 20-25 years—even after I am too old to be flying on the mission field myself. But I don't have to wait until then; I can start right now! Please trust the Lord with us, and if you would like to help, please get in touch with us!

An Unforgettable Journey: Part 3 (Conclusion)

You know that feeling you get when you're driving on a remote Bolivian dirt road, and you suddenly find yourself at the end of the barrel of a gun?

This is the conclusion of a story from last year, which I never finished telling. You can find the previous posts here (Part 1) and here (Part 2). But before we get to the end of the story, let's back up. Our group had traveled a full day on sketchy Bolivian roads, then spent the next day hiking to the site of the wreck and salvaging as much as we could. We spent that second night with a Bolivian family, and on the third day hiked back to where our vehicles were parked. At this point, day three is just a blur to me, but it's day four—the day that we drove back home to Cochabamba—that really stands out in my mind.

We were up early to get on the road. It was going to be a long day of driving, and we were hoping not to run into any snags along the way. It was hard not to turn heads with airplane parts strapped to our vehicles!

DJ's Land Cruiser, with pieces of his airplane's wing strapped on top.

A warning to passing drivers to be more careful than the guy who was driving this truck.

The drive was going somewhat smoothly, with only a few times that our vehicles nearly got stuck trying to go uphill on muddy, rutted roads. About halfway through the drive, I was starting to feel optimistic. The worst of the roads were behind us, and pretty soon it would be smooth sailing back to Cochabamba. But that feeling of optimism would soon give way to a host of new feelings.

I was second-to-last in our group of four vehicles, and I couldn't see what was going on up ahead. All I knew was that the lead car was coming to a stop. I thought that perhaps it was a checkpoint of some sort, or maybe locals asking for money to allow us to pass through. But without warning, a large group of uniformed men emerged with guns drawn, running past our cars. Had we inadvertently found ourselves in the middle of a military exercise? Wait, no...those guns are pointed at us!

We rolled down our windows, and the men in military fatigues yelled at us to hand over our phones. They asked repeatedly if I had guns in the vehicle and ordered us to exit our cars. Some of us were put in handcuffs, and I was simply ordered to stay near my vehicle. I was forced to hand over my wallet, and my vehicle was searched while the man with the gun kept telling me not to run. I'm not sure where he thought I was going to go, since we were in the middle of nowhere. I would probably get lost and die of starvation out there! I'd rather take my chances on the guy with the gun.

After some time we finally found out that we weren't being robbed or kidnapped. Apparently, two or three police units, along with a couple helicopters, had been dispatched to look for us. Someone had made a false claim on social media that DJ's plane was a drug plane, and that the pilot had died in the "crash". Imagine their confusion when DJ—alive and well—informed them that he was the pilot who "had died" a few days earlier!

My vehicle, with DJ's following behind. I didn't get any photos of the real excitement
because our phones were confiscated by the police.

We were detained for quite some time while the police figured out what to do with us. We suspected that they finally realized they had made a mistake, but what were they going to do at that point? Let us go? Of course not. They did return our phones and our belongings, but instead of letting us go, they escorted us all the way back to Cochabamba. It was slow-going, and it was the middle of the night by the time we arrived on the outskirts of town. 

We pulled off on the side of the road, hungry, exhausted, and confused. As we sat waiting in the dark, we could tell that the police were still trying to figure out what to do with us. All we wanted to do was get home, eat a little something, and go to sleep. By this point, they had changed their story. Now they told us that we had been stopped at a routine checkpoint. They suddenly "forgot" about that social media post they had shown to DJ earlier in the day.

There is a reason why the airplane is such a useful tool out here!
The roads can be quite treacherous.

After several phone calls and much deliberation, they decided to confiscate DJ's airplane to test it for drugs. We would all be free to go home, but not before being taken down to the police station to be questioned. By this point it was early morning. We were escorted by the police back to the station where we were questioned one-by-one. After giving my statement, I was finally free to leave.

It was a crazy, emotional, exhausting day, but I was happy to finally be home with my family. It sure beat spending the night in a Bolivian jail! I can't say that the experience was one that I'd like to repeat, but if nothing else, it makes for a good story! And in case you're wondering, the airplane was found to be clean of drugs. This is what we expected, of course—our only concern being that someone malicious could have planted drugs in the days that the airplane was unattended at the site of the incident. But thank God for his watch and care over us and over the airplane! 

An Unforgettable Journey: Part 2

It was 4:00 am and we began dragging ourselves out of bed to get an early start on the day. I felt as if I hadn’t slept at all. Every time I closed my eyes during the night, I felt as if I was still bouncing down a dirt road, and in my mind’s eye I continued to watch endless miles of winding dirt roads pass me by. Whether I actually slept, I don’t really know, but it was most certainly not a restful night.

Despite being exhausted, this is all I could see in my mind when I closed my eyes and tried to sleep!

We grabbed a cup of coffee, then loaded up the two vehicles that we would take to the top of the hill to get us closer to the site where the airplane was located. In a cloud of grogginess and darkness, I placed my backpack into the back of my vehicle. I watched the door swing shut just as I realized that my keys were inside. I had a moment of panic, knowing that for some unknown reason our car (with its aftermarket alarm system) sometimes locks itself. I quick pull on the handle confirmed my fears: the doors were closed and locked with both sets of keys inside!

So here we were, hours from nowhere, with a bunch of our supplies locked in my car, along with my keys. No locksmith would be on call in this remote place. The only options were to somehow unlock the car from the outside or break a window to get in—not something I was excited to do since rain was virtually guaranteed. Thankfully, the rear passenger doors had only closed halfway, and after about 30 minutes we were able to reach in with a wire and unlock one of them. Thank you, Jesus!

We soon started driving up the hill, and I was quickly praising the Lord that I had locked my keys in the car. This road was the worst yet, and that delay had set us back just enough that we had a bit of daylight to illuminate the road ahead. I really think that little incident was a blessing in disguise!

The terrain we would cross in order to reach the airplane.

We eventually made it to the top and gathered up the tools and personal items we would need to disassemble the airplane, and to be warm and dry for the night we would spend with a local family. A light rain was falling as we began our hike, so we put on our rain gear before setting out. The hike began around 13,000 above sea level, and we immediately started on a long downhill stretch. I couldn’t help thinking, “We are going to have to hike back UP tomorrow!”

A horrible photo of me, but an accurate portrayal of my feelings at the moment!

The locals seemed to tackle the steep terrain with ease.

One of the easier sections, approaching the airplane site.

Down, up, down, up… The locals made it look easy, but I was struggling. Even though I live at 8,400 feet elevation and frequently walk stairs and hills, the weight of my backpack and the extra 4,000 feet of altitude made a big difference! We were challenged by rain, steep hills, and off-camber trails, but after more than three hours we finally arrived!

The last few hundred feet down to the airplane were quite steep, but fortunately there were some level areas to set up our tools.

Rick and Tony working on the engine.

We descended the steep hill where DJ’s airplane had tumbled to its resting place and assessed the situation. I would work inside, removing instruments and radios. Tony and Rick would start on removing and disassembling the engine, which would be too heavy to carry out with the cylinders, pistons, and accessories still attached. DJ and Ryan would cut off the wings and tail, and salvage the structural pieces that could be reused. Josué was in charge of securely packing all if the pieces to be transported.

Salvaging pieces of the wing that would be saved.

As we worked, a steadily growing crowd of locals formed on the hillside. We had prayed for help, and God provided. While the work of disassembly was done by those of us who knew how to take things apart without inducing further damage, there is no way we could have gotten all the pieces out on our own. As we made progress taking things apart, the local men began to carry pieces out: in buckets, on their backs, and on mules. It was both impressive and humbling to watch these men haul heavy airplane parts over challenging terrain, as I struggled just to make it with just my backpack.

Locals gathering up on the hillside to watch and help.

Some of the local men helping to carry out the fuselage.

What was left of the airplane after most of the salvageable pieces had been removed.

As the sun began to settle behind the mountains and the fog rolled in, we completed our work and began hiking back to the houses where we would spend the night. The local men would transport the pieces to our vehicles the next morning and afternoon, when we would load the vehicles and be ready to leave the following morning. 

A unique solution for transporting the fuselage. 

A cool fog settled in as we began the hike back out.

As we traversed the foggy countryside, I was glad that DJ knew the way back to the house! There were several places where the path was not clear, and everything looked different than I had remembered it in the daylight. Finally, we reached the first house, where Tony and Rick would spend the night. We stopped for a short break, but darkness fell just as it started raining. I donned my poncho and headlamp and we started the 20-minute hike down a rocky trail, across a creek, and up a steep grassy hillside. Finally we arrived at the house where the rest of us would spend the night. 

This is the valley we crossed to get from one house to the other. In the top center of the photo, you can just make out the house where Tony and Rick stayed.

The countryside was beautiful. I just had to remember to stop and take the time to soak it in!

The home where DJ, Josué, and I spent the night (the photo was taken earlier in the day when we passed by).

We were welcomed with a hot cup of tea, warm bread, and a bowl of potato soup. After finishing my dinner and putting on dry clothes, I tossed my sleeping bag on the bed: a wooden platform covered with loose sheep wool and a blanket. Despite the rustic sleeping conditions, I had no problem falling asleep. Whether from comfort or sheer exhaustion, it was the best I’d slept in a long time! 

We had reached the halfway-point of our trip, but the next two days would be more exhausting than we imagined. However, that is a story that will be told in my next post!

An Unforgettable Journey: Part 1

On February 3, I answered my phone and received the news that no pilot wants to hear. An emergency locator transmitter (ELT) was sending an SOS signal in the area where a friend of mine had been flying. ELTs only begin transmitting under two conditions: when manually activated by the pilot, or when triggered by high g-loads, as in a crash. We began gathering as much information as possible, and preparing for a search and rescue.

Thankfully, within a few hours the pilot was able to find a cellular signal and contact his wife. He had gotten out of the plane before it rolled away and tumbled down a steep hillside, which had activated the ELT. He was unharmed, but the airplane was totaled. Our plans shifted from a rescue operation to an aircraft recovery trip.

DJ’s plane, as we would later find it awaiting us.

Although the airplane was essentially destroyed, there were still many components that could be salvaged. However, getting those parts out would not be easy. After all, there is a reason why DJ lands his Cub on a hilltop to access this region of Bolivia. Getting to the plane would require driving 14-16 hours on some rough roads, then hiking 3 hours between 11,000 and 13,000 feet above sea level. A team of mechanics and volunteers would hike in to disassemble the airplane, and the locals would help us get the salvageable pieces to a place where they could be loaded onto vehicles—at least that was our hope and prayer.

The day of the trip arrived, and I got up at 2:15 to be on the road by 3:30 am. It was an early start, but necessary if we wanted to avoid driving the worst part of the road at night. As we left Cochabamba, the road turned from pavement, to cobblestone, and finally to dirt. At times the road disappeared briefly into stream crossings, turned to mud, or became littered with loose rocks, ruts, and holes. Even the good sections required constant attention to avoid beating up my vehicle’s suspension with a constant barrage of potholes, rocks, and ruts.

A typical section of road. Not terrible, but requiring constant attention.

The scenery was amazing!

More beautiful countryside. 

Llamas!

In exchange for this exhausting drive, we were rewarded with the most stunning scenery I’ve seen in Bolivia. We climbed to 15,000 feet, saw herds of llamas, and gazed over beautiful rivers and valleys. We crossed several streams that cascaded down the mountain slopes. We enjoyed good weather and smooth travels, except for the point at which a tour bus was stuck at a hairpin turn in the road. Thankfully, after an hour of maneuvering and moving rocks off of the road, the bus driver was able to continue his ascent, enabling us to continue our journey.

The bus that held us up for an hour or so.

The river crossing that preceded the stuck bus.

As we left the “main” road, it was nearing sunset. That one-hour delay had set us back, meaning that we would face the most dangerous part of the road in the dark. With limited experience in these conditions (and never having driven such roads in our Nissan Patrol), I was a bit on edge, following carefully behind the two vehicles leading the way. Many places were muddy and barely wide enough for my vehicle. Each switchback curved out of reach of my headlights, and I took them very slowly, watching carefully as each new inch of road creeped into my view. Thankfully the car did well, and I didn’t take us over the edge!

Driving this road in the dark was not my favorite. Thank God for safe travels!

A warning to take this road seriously.

Finally, we arrived safely at our destination: a small school house where we would spend the night. The next morning we would get an early start, hiking to the site where a long, hard day’s work awaited us. But that story will require its own blog post. Stay tuned!

The school house where we slept the first and last nights.

To be continued…

All Dressed Up and Nowhere to Go

Over the past few months, I've spent five weeks helping to bring our second airplane project to completion. The airplane came to us disassembled in a shipping container, and it has taken more than a year to completely clean, strip, repaint, and rebuild it. Many people have contributed financially and of their time to help us prepare this ministry tool that will help us reach remote communities in Bolivia. Dave, one of our volunteers, has donated a full year, and this is what we have to show for it: a beautifully refurbished airplane ready for service in Bolivia!

Except for one small detail: the airplane can't enter Bolivia. In October, a law was passed prohibiting the importation of airplanes older than 25 years. Since our airplane is a 1981 model, we cannot take it to Bolivia under the new law.

This was just one more bit of discouraging news for us. I had been looking forward to getting some flight hours in the airplane prior to our return to Bolivia. More importantly, it was going to be a valuable tool for our ministry, especially since our primary aircraft is currently down for repairs.

From our perspective, it doesn't make sense why God would provide the resources to purchase and refurbish the airplane, only to bring us to this point. Although ministry can still take place without aviation, having an airplane multiplies our effectiveness and enables us to reach isolated communities that otherwise are very difficult to get to. Yet, we know that He sees the big picture, and trust that He has a reason for allowing this to happen.

We are praying that the law will be repealed (which, if it happens, will probably take several months), or that we will be able to sell this airplane and put the resources toward a newer aircraft. The Cessna 206 is a very good option for us, but there are other airplanes that will do the job. However, from a worldly perspective, the cost of those aircraft is prohibitive. That said, we would love to see the Lord provide a newer, capable aircraft for the ministry! We still believe that aviation is an important tool for reaching the unreached of Bolivia, and we pray that God will provide just the right airplane. 

Please pray for wisdom as we determine how to proceed, and that the Lord will provide just what we need!

Knowledge Leads to Peace

I opened my Bible this morning to 2 Peter this morning, expecting to read a chapter as part of my morning devotions. Two verses in, I had to stop and meditate on this sentence: 

“Grace and peace be yours in abundance through the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord.”  2 Peter 1:2

That may not sound like a verse that would stop someone in his tracks, but the past two days have been busy and full of stress. I had not been experiencing the peace of God para nada.  In fact, if you have read our latest newsletter, you know that the past few months have been somewhat tumultuous. 

So when I encountered the phrase, "peace be yours in abundance," I immediately took notice. I had been living the past few days under an enormous burden—and all for nothing! The Lord offers grace and peace in abundance; all it takes is to truly know Him! When we truly know God and understand His character, there is nothing we can do except rest in His peace. 

Yet, it can be so easy to take our eyes off of the Lord Jesus, and to forget all that we know to be true about Him. We often fail to look back and reflect on everything He has brought us through in the past. We listen to the voices of the world, rather than turning to Him, listening to His voice through Scripture and in prayer. Take time to truly get to know the Lord, and experience the true peace that only He can offer!

New Videos Posted!

If you haven't visited my Vimeo channel, I hope you'll go check it out. I've recently posted a few videos of my flights in Bolivia, such as this one:

I am still working on my video setup, but I hope you'll enjoy a glimpse into our ministry with ITM!

ITM Conference, Part 2—The Culture-Transforming Gospel

In the last post, I wrote briefly about the ITM conference that was held last month. One afternoon during the conference I sat and talked with one of our missionaries who lives in San Lorenzo. I had never talked to him before and it was really interesting to get a small glimpse into his life.

Julio is from a Chimane family in the region of the Beni where ITM works. He had a difficult upbringing, moving frequently and often being left on his own. As we talked, one of the things he shared with me was how the Lord has begun to soften his heart since he came to know Christ. In the course of our conversation, he mentioned that in his culture no one sheds a tear when a child dies. The way he described it, the death of a child is not very different from the death of an animal, and in some ways children are, in fact, treated much like animals. 

This got me thinking about the power of God, not only to change individual lives but to change a culture as well. There are many in our society who imagine remote, isolated tribes as living in a tropical paradise. They get angry at the idea that Christians would bring their "Western" religion into these "unspoiled" communities. Setting aside the idea that true Christianity is not Western or American, what they don't realize is that many people who have been isolated from the modern world do not live in paradise. They die of preventable illness, have high rates of infant mortality, and often live with superstitions and beliefs that keep them in bondage to fear—and can lead to tribal warfare and murder. Often, women and children are given little value. Most importantly, they live and die without ever having experienced the light of Jesus and the true life that's experienced in Him.

So, yes, we need to be careful to distinguish between the Gospel and the aspects of our own culture that can easily become intertwined with our faith. But we certainly should not feel sorry or regretful when we bring the Gospel into a culture that has remained in darkness without the light of Christ! 

Books have been written about this concept, and many missionary biographies testify to the power of God to transform lives and cultures. There's no way I can cover the topic in a blog post (and I'm not very long-winded). But even as a Christian, sometimes I can let my culture influence my thinking. My brief conversation with Julio was a reminder of the many people growing up like him in the remote regions of Bolivia—people who are not living in a blissful jungle paradise, but who need to hear about Jesus and are just waiting for someone to tell them!

ITM Conference, Part 1—Looking Outward

This past weekend we had the pleasure of participating in a weekend conference with the rest of the ITM family. It was an encouraging time to refocus, worship together, and hear what's going on in the various areas of ministry. This is the first time we've been able to spend time with many of our teammates since arriving in Bolivia in 2019, due to political unrest followed by COVID-19.

Our first year in Bolivia was a difficult one due to the isolation we were forced to experience. Protests, civic strikes, and COVID-related restrictions have kept us at home and out of fellowship for much of the year. It has been easy for us to be self-focused, thinking about our own situation while assuming that everyone else on our team is doing fine. After all, many of them have known each other for years, and those living away from the city are not subjected to the same restrictions that we are. Surely we are the lonely outsiders and everyone else is doing just fine, right?

We realized this past weekend that we are not the only ones struggling and feeling isolated (shocking, I know!). We came here knowing that a big part of our ministry would be supporting the Bolivian (and American) missionaries who are working out on the front lines in the remote communities of Bolivia. But we didn't feel that we were yet in a position to do that well—not knowing the team, still feeling like outsiders, and being limited in our Spanish ability. But this weekend we discovered that those barriers are not as real as we have made them out to be. We had been waiting for people to reach out to us, but maybe we should have been the ones taking the initiative all along.

In just a few days we have begun feeling much more connected to our brothers and sisters who serve alongside us with ITM. We have gained confidence in our communication and realized that the language barrier doesn't have to prevent us from encouraging and spending time with our Bolivian teammates. Our perspective has shifted, as we have begun to look outward, asking how we can help encourage others. And in the process of doing so, we have found that our own needs are being met as well.

Please pray for us as we continue to look for opportunities to encourage our team, and others in our community. We trust the Lord that as we take our eyes off ourselves and serve others, that He will also care for the needs of our family.

There were several other things that stood out to me during the conference, and I hope to share them with you in the coming days and weeks. I hope it will be an encouragement to you, and give you further insight into our life and ministry here in Bolivia!

So Much to Say

It's Valentine’s Day, and I should be out having a romantic dinner with my wife. Unfortunately, we are quarantined at home on Sundays and I'm suffering some ill effects from something I ate yesterday. So, as I was sitting here on the couch, I realized I hadn’t written a blog post for a while. And wow!, it has been a while. There is so much to report that it would be impossible to catch up on everything in one post. Let’s start with an update on the last one.

After what seems like an eternity, I finally have my license to fly in Bolivia! It required a written test, a flight test, handing over a bunch of cash, and then waiting for several weeks—but I finally have a piece of plastic that authorizes me to fly in this country! I've been able to make several ministry flights, mostly to Oromomo and San Lorenzo, where several of our missionaries work. But I also made one flight to a town called Baures to help deliver some medical supplies and biosecurity supplies to the medical workers there. It has been great to feel like I am actually making a contribution to the mission as a pilot, rather than just being extra weight in the airplane!

Happy to be cruising over the Beni with a good cup of coffee,
transporting building supplies for the Bible school in San Lorenzo.

Of course I had been doing other valuable things: studying Spanish, doing aircraft maintenance, and helping with administrative tasks that are a necessary part of operating the ministry here in Bolivia. If I never would have been able to fly, there would still be ways I could support the ministry, but I am grateful that I am finally flying on the field—something that I have been looking forward to for many years!

Delivering medical supplies to Baures with Pastor Elias.

Now, the bad news. Saying that I have my license to fly in Bolivia in a bit of an oversimplification. What I have is a convalidation of my FAA pilot certificate, which will be valid for up to one year. That means I still need to get a permanent Bolivian pilot certificate, which will take more time and money. Please pray for us as we figure out the best (and most cost-effective) way to do that.

There’s more to share, some of which we talked about in our January newsletter. Please check it out if you haven’t had a chance to do so. That’s all for now!

Making progress!

After several years of working toward the goal, I came to Bolivia in 2019 with my commercial pilot certificate, instrument rating, and airframe and power plant mechanic certificates. The unfortunate part is that none of these are recognized in Bolivia. So I've spent the better part of a year learning Spanish and flying with other pilots who can legally act as "pilot in command" in the right seat while I fly in the left seat.

A view from the left seat of the Cessna 206.

This week I took the first of many tests that will be required for me to serve as a pilot-mechanic in Bolivia. I successfully passed the theory test (in Spanish—an extra challenge) for the convalidation of my pilot certificate! Convalidation is not a word we really use in English, but it means that Bolivia will recognize my pilot certificate from the United States. But there's a catch. We had hoped that the convalidation would be for at least two years, and praying that by some miracle I might even get a permanent Bolivian license. But as of now, the law states that the convalidation will be for six months, with the possibility of a single six-month renewal. This news was a big disappointment. So what does that mean for me?

I have already begun the convalidation process, and after that I'll have one year to get a Bolivian pilot certificate before the convalidation expires. That means I get to start over as a private pilot student, and eventually I will go from being recognized as a commercial/instrument pilot to being recognized as a private pilot only in Bolivia (my FAA certificates will still be valid in the States). Of course, it will be much easier this time around, since I still have all the knowledge and skills that I've developed over the past several years. But I still need a piece of paper (or plastic) that says I can legally fly in Bolivia. That piece of paper will require 40 hours of flying, more tests, and several thousand dollars.

Please pray with us as we continue to work through this. I still have two flight tests ahead of me in order to get the convalidation, and then we need to start thinking through options for flight schools. Of course, it would be great if by some miracle I could get my FAA licenses permanently converted, but unless we get Bolivian citizenship this does not appear to be a possibility. It is possible to get Bolivian citizenship while retaining our U.S. citizenship, but that requires being in Bolivia continuously for three years.

So we're not exactly sure how things will proceed, but thanks for praying with us and following along with us on this journey! Your support and encouragement means a lot!

October News

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Longing for a Better Country

It's been nearly four months since we were first quarantined, as the Bolivian government has sought to contain the spread of COVID-19. In these four months Tara and I have been able to go out on a limited basis—mainly to buy food and supplies—but we can count on one hand the number of times the kids have left the house since mid-March. In the meantime, stay-at-home orders in the States have been relaxed and my social media feeds have been filled with vacation photos of my friends enjoying hikes in the mountains, relaxing at the beach, walking through wooded parks, boating, and swimming.

So I sit in my tiny walled-in yard, trying to appreciate the blue sky and potted plants. I do my best to enjoy the beauty of the mountains through the razor wire and utility lines. But lately, as someone who loves nature, I have found myself dreaming about how great it would be to be back in the States right now, where I could take my kayaks out on the river, hike through the woods, go camping, and enjoy walks by the lakeshore. Sometimes I wonder why God brought us here at this time, and why we couldn't be back in the States enjoying summer activities rather than being confined to our house in Bolivia.

The Bible speaks of men and women of faith who longed for another country—but they were not longing for the United States of America!

These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth... If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city. (Hebrews 11:13–16)

Lately I've found myself thinking more of the country I left than looking ahead to the better, heavenly country. I think of this photo as a metaphor for my life as a Christian. Like the distant mountains, there is a beautiful land that awaits: a heavenly Kingdom ruled by a good King. As I run this race, I ought to keep my eyes fixed on Jesus and on the prize that lies ahead. But there are so many distractions that divert my attention away and dim my view—just as the power lines, haze, and shadows distract me from appreciating that distant mountain range.

We left our home in the United States and moved to Bolivia, believing that this is the path He has called us to for this season (a season that may last the rest of our lives; we don't know). Our desire is to faithfully run this race with our eyes fixed on Him, but I am easily distracted. It's so easy to love the world and the things of the world—to enjoy the creation rather than the Creator. I can get fixated the blessings that God allows me to enjoy, rather than growing deeper in my love for the One who bestows those blessings on me. There is a constant temptation to take my spiritual eyes off of that which is eternal and to become consumed with those things that are temporary.

We know that this season of quarantine will not last forever, and trust that the Lord has fruitful ministry for our family in Bolivia. I also can't wait until the day I can get out with my family and enjoy the country He has brought us to, rather than being confined to our home. But in the meantime my prayer is that I will keep my eyes focused on Jesus, and that I won't be so shortsighted that I simply long for the country I left when I came to Bolivia. I pray that, instead, I will look forward to being with Him in the eternal home that He is preparing for those who love Him. May I be able to say with the apostle Paul:

Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. (Phil. 3:12–14).

First Flight in Bolivia!

It's been more than six years since I left my engineering job to begin training as a missionary pilot-mechanic. Today, after many years of preparation, I finally was able to participate in my first flight with ITM in Bolivia! We partnered with Mano a Mano to deliver medical supplies and personal protective equipment to the town of San Borja.

ITM's Cessna 206 and Mano a Mano's Navajo, along with the supplies that were donated for San Borja.

It's been over 11 months since I've flown an airplane, and I haven't flown a Cessna 206 since I left Mexico in November of 2018. It was great to be back in a 206 again! Today I did some right-seat flying, but our first flights will be more focused on learning the "lay of the land" and getting my brain back into aviation mode. Before too long I'll move over to the left seat and start getting back up to speed, and then get checked out for solo flights into some the airstrips we use most often. Please pray that my piloting skills will come back and improve quickly, for my continued language learning (the goal is to be able to do all my radio work in Spanish), and for the process of obtaining my Bolivian pilot certificate.

While I am definitely excited to be flying again and to have my toolbox stocked up and ready to go, that excitement is not just for the joy of flying and fixing airplanes. We have tried to emphasize over the years that the airplane is just a tool. With this tool we can reach remote places with physical help and with the hope of the gospel. I'm grateful that I get to be a pilot, but even if I never flew again I would still want to devote my life to making Jesus known among those who don't know Him!

We are grateful to be serving with ITM, and for how the Lord is using this ministry. The aviation program definitely looks a bit different amidst the coronavirus pandemic, but it's exciting that we have started flying again. And apart from the aviation ministry, God has continued to work in the communities where other ITM missionaries are living and working. Hopefully we will be able to start supporting them with the airplane again soon!

In the meantime, here are a few photos from today's flight.

Flying past the town of Ushbe on the Securé River.

Flying looks a little different during a pandemic. Masks, gloves, suits, and being sprayed down with disinfectant are usually not a part of the process.

We brought back two women from San Borja. They had not tested positive for COVID-19, but we still took all of the precautions including a plexiglass barrier between pilots and passengers.

"Capitán Tony", suited up and at the controls.

The two airplanes on the ramp in Cochabamba prior to departure. In the background you can just make out a little bit of snow on the mountain peaks.