"After both my parents died, my aunt took care of me. And then she brought me here." Magdala's voice rang in my ears as I approached her orphanage where she lives with 125 other orphans. I imagined the feelings that might be most familiar to her. Loneliness and rejection came up. As we walked up to their orphanage and introduced ourselves to the people in charge, I watched for Magdala. I wonder...

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Troy Jackson thinks that it's time to declare a moratorium on short-term missions. As one who has written on the issue of short term missions in the past, even calling them into question, I agree with the notion that much of what Americans do on their mission trips could be done better. 

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Down muddy, potholed streets, behind a high wall is the Son of God orphanage.

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I don't know exactly what we expected walking into his home, but I know that it wasn't what we found. The tent seemed to exhale as we opened its door, and it expelled a torrent of heat. I could not begin to imagine staying inside these tarpaulin walls all day as sweat instantly formed against my skin; yet, this is Evansbord's life everyday. Evansbord was taken to a witch docto...

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Many people wonder if God still speaks to us, or if He has grown silent over the years. Has He stopped talking, or have we stopped listening?

We had been asked to take some time to just be still and ask God to speak before we started the day. I began praying that God would allow me the ability to stop and just hear what He wanted to say to me. So as I sat there, quiet and still, I suddenly had an image of my team praying for healing over someone.

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From the first day I got there to the minute I was getting in the car to leave, parents were coming up to me and handing me their kids. Not just to hold and to love – but to take, to have. I didn't say anything. I didn't do anything. I was just there. Loving. Being Jesus to them. In the midst of it all, children were being given to me to take care of. Not only temporarily while I was in Haiti, but to bring home.

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And chalk was the word God gave me. Before leaving the US.
I thought it was going to turn into a creative fund-raising event idea-but things never quite panned out. I didn't know if I should give up on the idea or just allow God to evolve my understanding of His word "chalk".

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I heard about the supposed pact that Haiti made with the devil from Twitter when it lit up a firestorm of tweets about Pat Robertson's remarks blaming the earthquake that has devastated Port-au-Prince on this pact. I first thought, "What the crap?" I also thought, "Dang Pat, hush! You're doing so much good through Operation Blessing. I know that you love the poor and hurting, and I know you help them."

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John is fluent in Thai, he grew up in Thailand.  He understands the language and the culture.  John is currently starting a church in Peru.  To do this he has to learn Spanish.  It isn't coming easily.  I am fluent in Spanish.  I grew up in Guatemala.  I understand the language and the culture.  I am a pastor to English speakers in Peru.  Scott is from England.  He is struggling to learn Spanish so he can start a church in Peru.  I translate for him on a regular basis.  He gets frustrated trying to learn Spanish at age 37.

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