Happy Thanksgiving!

We celebrated American Thanksgiving on Saturday with a group of about 20 co-workers. I was so encouraged by our time together!

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Thanksgiving is a family holiday, right? And these people have been our family. We have been celebrating our holidays. . . and all our days . . . with these same people for ten years, twenty years, almost thirty years now. We have watched their children grow up and leave the nest, and they have watched ours do the same. Some of the younger kids are still with our group, and as I listened to them, I kept thinking, "How can you be so mature? I remember when you were still in diapers!" Don't worry, I didn't say it out loud.

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A Very Wealthy Lady

This is about 1,000 gifts again. It has been two and a half weeks since I started my list, and I am up to 67 gifts. At this rate it will take me about 9 months to finish. But my goal is not really to finish it, the joy is in the journey, as they say. I am becoming so conscious of how much I have been given. Gift #5 was "a good night's sleep." Sometimes I just list the gift, with no comment. But that day I commented, "I know that not everyone has the comfort and safety and health that make this gift possible." Gift #29 was "Karim and Eti." This is the student I mentioned in my last blog, along with his precious wife. Every time I see Eti, she gives me a big hug . . . she never fails to brighten my day! I love drinking tea with them and listening to their stories. Gift #37 was "Literacy." Many women my age, around the world, are illiterate. It is normal for our IGSL students to tell me that their moms never went to school. I am one of the lucky ones . . . no, not lucky! It's a gift from God, for which I am profoundly grateful. Every time I open my notebook to work on my gift list, I am just amazed with how much God has given me, and how good He has been. I am a very wealthy lady.

Abdul Karim Miah

I spent this afternoon helping one of our students practice his testimony. He is going to present it later this week in a banquet. This student and his wife have become very dear to us. As he was sharing his story, I wished that you could be here to hear it. The next best thing . . . I'll print it here for you.
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Good evening, everyone, in the name of our Savior. My name is Abdul Karim Miah, from Bangladesh. I want to share with you how God has been faithful to me. Please forgive me because I am still learning English. I have six brothers, my father was a Muslim priest, and all of my relatives are very strong Muslims. When I enrolled in college, my circle of friends was not good, and I did many wrong things with them.

But God changed me through one Christian family. In our village there was a Christian family, they were respected by others, and they had a good relationship with my family. One of their kids was my classmate, and she tried to help me change my behavior. Once I received some Christian booklets in the mail from a Christian organization. I tried to find out who gave them my name. Finally I realized it was my Christian classmate. I asked her, “Why did you do it? You know I am Muslim.” She replied, “It’s an interesting book, and it has questions to answer. You just read it, and if you do not enjoy it, then stop reading.”

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I followed her advice and I enjoyed that booklet. I did it very secretly. Nobody knew that I completed a correspondence course and I got a New Testament Bible. I started to read the Bible and day by day I began to change. I felt a hunger to learn more about Christ, so I shared it with my classmate, but she said, “No, it’s enough; no need to learn more, I cannot help you.” I knew she was afraid to help me because she knew she might be punished by my family. But I forced her and said, “Please do something!” So she gave me her elder brother-in-law’s address, he was a pastor in Dhaka, our capital city. So I went to Dhaka. He also refused to help me directly but he introduced me to another guy who became a Christian from Muslim background. His name was Mamun Taluckder, and he allowed me to meet with him. That man enrolled me in another Bible course. I finished that course very successfully and through that guy I joined a small Bible study group at our national botanical garden. We met in the garden because we did not have any room where we could meet and pray. When I read John 14: 6 this verse touched my heart. I thought about it for two weeks and I realized, “Yes, Jesus Christ is the only truth and the only way,” and at that time I received Jesus Christ as my personal savior. After that in 1996, Nov. 4, I was baptized. My family heard about my conversion from others, but they did not believe it. After that I joined the Society for International Ministry (SIM) as an employee without my family’s knowledge.

In 1998, June 24 I married my Christian classmate, the one who first told me about Jesus. Her parents did not agree to our marriage, but her grandmother and elder brother-in-law permitted us and helped us. My wife’s parents did not speak with us for some time. Finally, my father-in-law put out a challenge, “If Karim comes to my house as a Christian then I will receive Him.” You know, my family and my wife’s family lived same village, so I was afraid to go there, but I decided to take my father-in-law’s challenge and in 2000 December 23 my wife and I went to his home to join with them for Christmas. My wife’s parents welcomed us.

But when my family heard that I was in the village, they came there and caught me and carried me back to my house. They kicked me and beat me and bound me with iron chains. They tried to remove one of my one eyes, (still I have that injury on my left eye), and they determined to kill me. But suddenly, my father said, “Ok, don’t kill him, just ask him to give up his Christian religion and confess his sin, and divorce that girl, that’s enough.” They decided I had to do it in front of their old priest and the whole Muslim community. I did not know what to think. I just prayed in my heart, “Lord I believe you are Almighty God, nothing is impossible for you, please save me and prove here that my Lord is Almighty.” Praise God because that day He did a miraculous thing.

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While they were bringing me to the priest, the rickshaw driver and one of my friends decided to let me escape. They were also Muslim but God spoke to their hearts and they helped me. That day was both Christmas and a Muslim holiday, so there was no transportation. I just ran and walked, as fast as I could, although I was still weak from being beaten. I traveled about 12 kilometers. I was afraid they would catch me and I could not find any transportation. I had no money at all, I was injured, and the distance to Dhaka, where I was headed, was more than 350 kilometers. I just prayed. It was almost midnight, and suddenly two old guys stopped me and said, “Young, man can you give us a favor? We need to go to Dhaka tonight to meet my son who is going to Malaysia early in the morning. We are carrying money and we don’t know the area. Can you travel with us and help us?” I helped them reserve a car, and through them I went to Dhaka very smoothly. God proved how faithful He is. My wife also escaped from our village. When my wife and I met in Dhaka after three days, we praised God together. That year we could not celebrate Christmas with my wife’s family but when the people in my office heard everything, they comforted us and arranged a late Christmas party for our encouragement. I remember one old missionary hugged me and she cried a lot. I will never forget their sympathy.

You know, my family continued to totally reject me. In 2004 December 16 my mother died but they would not allow me to see her body. This was very painful for me. Even my wife’s parents had to move away from the village because of persecution. My wife and I used to cry every night when we did our family prayer but now God has comforted us, and now I have many brothers and sisters in Christ.

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For a long time I prayed for an opportunity to learn about God’s Word, and God answered my prayer. That is why today I am here. I praise God and I thank all of you for helping me. After I finish studying at IGSL I plan to return to Bangladesh and help train other Muslim background leaders for ministry in our country. This is a great need in Bangladesh. Please, all of you pray for me. I want to give my whole life to serve God and his kingdom. Please, please pray for me.

One Thousand Gifts

Since I became a blogger myself, about a year and half ago, I have also learned to enjoy other blogs. A new favorite of mine is http://www.holyexperience.blogspot.com/, written by a lady named Ann Voskamp in Ontario, Canada. She challenges her readers to recognize the gifts God gives each day by making a list . . . and adding to the list . . . until it reaches one thousand gifts. This is not a list of gifts you want, but gifts you have. For many years I have tried to cultivate a grateful heart, so I was very willing to give this idea a go. I've started my list. The first entry is "the taste of honey." It was just the first thing that came to mind, and so I wrote it down and thanked God for it. The next several entries were the names of people dear to me. And then . . . "our recently repaired rocking chair." Whenever I start working on the list, I can hardly write fast enough because so many things come to mind. But I am disciplining myself to slow down and savor each item, and to really express my thanks to my God. I'm loving it.

A Cool Photo

A few days ago, James and I were walking into IGSL around 6:30 a.m. and we saw this unusual light in the sky. Both of us commented that, because of the colors, it reminded us of a tiny version of the Northern Lights, which we have seen in Canada, but never in the tropics, and never at sunrise. It disappeared shortly afterwards. We have no clue what it was!

"They Treat Us Like We Are Valuable..."

This past week found me in Mindanao, the southernmost island in the Philippines. I went to visit one of our IGSL alumni, Mira*, who has worked there for three years among the urban poor. Their team focuses on two groups. One group is an ethnic religious minority living in Nabana*, a shanty-town near the sea. The other group is homeless families and prostitutes in the city center. The photo below is of Mira and me drinking coffee in the mall while she was orienting me to the work in both sites. I did not take photos in either of the two communities because it would have been offensive to the people there. You will just have to use your imagination.

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Nabana is about the size of an American football field, and is home to more than three hundred families. Their simple homes are made of "sawali," or woven reeds. The team uses the name "Taytayan," which means "bridge." They have an excellent relationship with Lino*, the community leader, who has invited them to work with his people. Because I was with Mira, I was warmly welcomed. Lino's wife put her arm around my waist and walked with me through the community, telling me their stories. A few months ago, a terrible fire swept through Nabana, and all but ten homes were razed in minutes. (You can imagine that dried reeds burn swiftly!) The Taytayan team was there immediately, and helped to save their few belongings. No one was seriously injured. Lino's wife told me, "The government did not respond to our cries for help. But God had mercy on us, and the Taytayan people were with us. After several days, the government sent us rice for our relief efforts. It was old and smelly. We felt so hurt -- they think that because we are poor, we are worthless. But the Taytayan team brought us the best rice they could find. They helped us rebuild our homes. They always treat us like we are valuable." Please pray for the Taytayan team to not grow weary and lose heart as they continue to faithfully live out the love of Jesus in Nabana.

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Later that night, we went to the park to visit the homeless families. When they saw Mira and her friends, the children ran to us, laughing, with arms open wide. Lots of hugs and greetings were exchanged. The parents do their best to keep their kids in school, in spite of their situation. So the Taytayan team comes to help tutor the kids, sitting in the dirt, doing reading and math. My respect for the team grew with each passing hour.

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At around 10:00 pm, we walked a few blocks to the "red light" district. We spent time visiting with the male prostitutes. They prefer the term MIST, meaning "Men In Sex Trade." Just like the kids in the park, they men warmly welcomed the Taytayan team. "They are our friends," one of the men told me, "and they care about us." The guys were young, about 20 to 30 years old. Surprisingly, I learned they are not gay. They have wives and children. They just work the streets because they can earn a living for their families this way. Minimum wage in the Philippines is about $3.00 a day if you can find a job -- but in this line of work they earn about $10.00 per client.

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Later that night, as Mira and I headed home, I cried for the MIST guys. I can only imagine what it does to their souls to sell themselves like that. I understand why they are drawn to the Taytayan team members, who treat them as valuable.

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The Taytayan people are doing some livelihood projects and income-generating projects for all the groups mentioned above, along with Bible studies for those who express interest. They see some successes and some heartbreaks along the way. But the most important task they have is glorifying God in a broken world -- that is, giving each person they meet a clearer picture of what our God is like.

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*names changed

A Life Well Lived

Today, I said goodbye to my friend, Miss Rosie Chew. She went home to be with Jesus on Friday, at the age of 82, and this afternoon was her funeral. During the service, friends shared their memories of her. She was truly an amazing lady...

She was a successful businesswoman, one of the pioneers in market research in the Philippines. She was intelligent, hardworking, straightforward, innovative, and not afraid of anyone. She never married. She poured all of her energy into her company. She treated her staff well and equipped them to be the best they could be. When she retired, she sold her company to A.C. Nielson, a multi-national frontrunner in the field. She was very, very good at what she did.

When she was in her late sixties, one of her clients shared the gospel with her. She investigated the claims of Jesus Christ, and gave Him her life. That began her second career. She brought all of her strengths (intelligence, straightforwardness, etc., etc.) into the Kingdom of Jesus. She told me once that since she didn't have children, she decided to leave a legacy in other ways. I had the privilege of watching her do it.

She became involved in several Christian organizations, including IGSL. She gave her money very generously to us. But more than that, she gave her wisdom and experience. In her own candid way, she insisted that we work smarter, not harder. She pushed us to evaluate our effectiveness. It wasn't enough to have good intentions. She wanted us to measure our impact in changing our world. She wanted to see results.

When I shared my memories today during the service, I said "I wouldn't describe her as sweet." Those who knew her laughed with me. She wasn't. She was strong. But underneath the tough exterior was one of the kindest, most compassionate people I have ever known. She was concerned about the poor. She was concerned about orphans. She was concerned about the elderly. She was concerned about pastors. That's what made her get involved in the various ministries where she gave her time and money. She looked for practical ways to improve their lives. But she also invited them to her home, gave them gifts, fed them dinner, and listened to their stories.

I got to know Rosie because of her love for pastors. She knew that pastors struggle to pay for their training, so she started a foundation to help them. For the past ten years, she provided scholarships for five pastors each year to study at IGSL. But she went so far beyond giving money. She would throw a party for her five scholarship students, several times a year, and I got to come along. Remember, this is a very wealthy woman, with many servants, living in one of the best subdivisions in the country! But she loved to cook . . . and when the students came, she would prepare her favorite recipes for them with her own hands. "Rosie's Party" was always a highlight for them.

Several months ago, Rosie was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. A short time later, she called my office. She was putting her affairs in order. She was sending me a check, she said, to cover the scholarships after she was gone. The whole conversation was typical of her straightforward manner. After I hung up the phone, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. To laugh and say, "Rosie, you're so organized and practical!" Or to cry . . . because she'd soon be gone.

Rosie, thank you. Thanks for showing me how to work smarter and measure results. Thanks for showing me how to give cheerfully and generously. Thanks for showing me how to leave a legacy. Thanks for showing me that great practicality and great compassion can, and must, go together. And thanks for the great recipe for putanesca.

Yours was a life well lived. It was an honor to have you as a friend.

I Love Babies . . . Again

If you know me at all, you know that I love babies, the newer the better! Last Monday one of our students gave birth, and I had the joy of being there. Not at the mothers' side, since this one was a Cesarian, but I waited with friends and family and got to be one of the first to see her. It was so much fun! I have had a delightful week holding baby Yana from Vietnam, spending time with her parents Tung and Ruth, and getting to know this family better. If my job consisted of nothing more than this, I would be a very happy lady. I should have been a midwife!

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Beautiful British Columbia

Our son Matthew says Vancouver, British Columbia is the most beautiful city in the world, and we think he may be right. This month we had the unexpected opportunity to travel to Vancouver to speak at the Campus Staff training of Campus Crusade for Christ of Canada. We were there for only 8 days. It's a long way to travel for a short visit, but who could resist an all-expense-paid trip to the most beautiful city in the world?

James gave devotionals from the Gospel of John each morning for all of the staff. I spoke to the young moms, about Delighting in God, and Dealing with Pain and Suffering (topics from my Spiritual Growth class).

James was especially happy to spend time with the Canadian CCC staff. Some of them were his good friends in university 30 years ago. For both of us the real highlight was being with our son Matthew. He is beginning his third year at University of British Columbia.

We're grateful to God for that special treat, and now we're home again.

Shopping in Old Manila

I spent seven hours shopping yesterday with my good friend Michelle in a part of the old city of Manila called Divisoria! It was a wonderful day, mostly because we just enjoy spending time together. Divisoria is such an amazing place. I think you could buy ANYTHING there, from auto parts to fresh fish to wedding dresses.

And no trip to Divisoria is complete without buying a giant shopping bag to bring home your purchases. We didn't buy these fancy ones with Winnie the Pooh, though. We settled for the plain ten peso kind.

We bought fabric, beads, clothes, jewelry, house decor, Chinese medicine, batteries, buttons, gifts, and several other things I can't remember. Oh, yes, fresh lychees!

A Giant Bowl of Ice Cold Soup

We were invited out for dinner the other night by some of our students from Korea. There are hundreds of Korean restaurants in Manila, but this couple loves us dearly and wanted to treat us to the best. So we went to an outstanding restaurant specializing in grilled beef. It was wonderful . . . although I found myself laughing inside at the whole issue of "cultural adjustment" which has followed us daily for the last 28 years. The beef was cooked at the table on a grill. Then you pick up a few slices with your chopsticks, dip them in sauce, wrap them in a big lettuce leaf and pop it all in your mouth. The first time around, I put half of the beef in my mouth. Our friends admonished me that the proper thing to do was not to bite it in half, but to put ALL of it in my mouth. So the next time around, I did it correctly, and as I struggled to find a way to chew it, they smiled approvingly. The thought went through my mind, "My mother would be horrified if she saw me eating like this!" I guess that is what culture shock is all about -- doing things your mother taught you that you should never do. After all, the real storehouse of culture is not found in museums . . . it's taught by moms and dads (mostly moms) who tell their kids, "This is the way to do it, this is how it should be, stop doing that, what were you thinking?!"

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After we were totally stuffed with the beef, the waitress brought giant bowls of ice cold noodle soup. And the only way to really get those noodles into your mouth was to slurp them. Sorry, Mom. I had to.

And after that we went to Starbucks for coffee. Our unique lives at IGSL are a blend of many cultures, so it seemed perfectly normal to follow the ice cold noodles with a steaming hot cappucino. We sat and talked for a long time, and had a very precious time of fellowship. We felt so loved . . . and perfectly cared for.

A New Name

Chris, along with his wife and two small children, stands before an immigration officer in his home country. They are returning home for ministry after three years of leadership training at ISOT-Asia. His books are not travelling back with them. He has shipped them separately so as not to openly identify himself as a Christian worker. In fact, he has had several of his books recovered so that their Christian content will be less obvious. Chris and countless others have been praying for weeks for this encounter with the immigration officer. We have been praying that the officer will not ask details of what Chris has been studying and what Chris will be doing. Chris is one of our many graduates ministering to the persecuted church.

How can we help people like Chris? Celebrate with us some unusual but significant steps in moving forward to assist people like this and to impact the world. Does a name change make any real difference? Is it important at all? And why should I care?

We believe that a name change can be important. Recently our school has begun the process of changing both our name and our structure. For the last 26 years, we have been proudly known as the International School of Theology – Asia. Over that time, we have trained over 600 Christian workers for Asia and the world with over 95% of our graduates continue to minister full-time in Asia, providing servant-steward leadership to the cause of Jesus Christ.

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But the name has caused significant problems because the word “theology” is associated with Christianity. Most of our students coming for graduate level training in Christian ministry are coming from and returning to countries where having a degree in “theology” causes major problems. Christians are persecuted in these countries due to the political system or the predominant religion or both. Showing up with a Master’s degree in theology is a great way to get your name on the list of the secret police or to be restricted in where you can travel. It can also land you in jail immediately. In the words of the Monopoly game, “Go directly to jail. Do not pass ‘Go.’”

So the new name is International Graduate School of Leadership or IGSL. And how do you pronounce it? We pronounce it as one word, sounding like "IG-sell." In many countries, people with Master’s level training in leadership are seen as an asset to nation-building. So now, our graduates will be able to show their diplomas and find that not only will it not hinder their ministry but it may even open doors for effective ministry for them.

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In a future post, we will tell you about some exciting new developments with the school which will enable us to train a greater number of people.

Third New Year

Yes, we celebrated the New Year for the third time while we were in Myanmar! Our first celebration was on January 1 in the Philippines, which means NOISE. Then the second time was in February when we celebrated Chinese New Year -- eating tikoy cakes given by kindhearted Chinese friends. And THEN, when we arrived in Myanmar, we found we would be celebrating New Year's Day one more time. Burmese New Year was April 17. It was preceded by four days of Water Festival.

Water Festival means that wherever you go, people throw water on you. Even on the short two-block walk between our guest house and the CCC office in Yangon, we got totally soaked every day by the neighborhood children. "Watering one another" was a new concept for us! But the children did it very sweetly, smiling all the while, so we couldn't get upset with them. We went downtown on the third day to see where teenagers water and get watered with much more intensity -- there they used water hoses!

During our time in Myanmar we grew used to seeing monks every morning as we walked to the office, three or four at a time collecting their daily food from Buddhist households. We were surprised on New Year's Day to see a long procession of monks near our guest house. We waited for them to pass, thinking it was a larger group this time, maybe 10 to 15 monks. But as we watched, more and more monks came down the street. We counted about 200 of them, from older monks in the front to small boys at the end of the line. The elderly monks were serious, but the little boys were giggling like boys anywhere would do.

During our time in Myanmar, James taught two weeks of classes to the CCC staff. He taught "Gospel of John" in the morning and "Servant Leadership" in the afternoon. The staff were so appreciative and we enjoyed the opportunity to serve them and get to know them better.

We also met with 18 of our 27 Myanmar alumni. This was a great encouragement to us, and to them as well. Some we met individually, in their homes or eating together, and twice we met as a large group. It was so much fun for us to see where they are now and how God is using them. I am so proud of their faithfulness, ministering in a context that is not easy at all.

A precious part of the trip was the opportunity to join the wedding of ISOT alumni Ye Htut Myo, whom we dearly love. It was so much fun to be part of the ceremony and to see God's goodness in providing Thein Thein, an excellent wife for Ye. I thought about Proverbs 31:10, which says, "An excellent wife, who can find? Her worth is far above rubies." Myanmar is famous for its rubies, so it seemed very appropriate to celebrate this gift of an excellent wife in the land of rubies.

We are very grateful to God for the privilege of going to visit our friends in Myanmar. It had been seven years since our last trip, and we vowed that we would not wait so long to return again. Mingalaba!

Graduation Day

Graduation day is always a highlight, because we are celebrating the success of our students! This year we had 78 graduates. I just kept smiling (with tears too) as each one walked across the stage, because so many memories kept crowding into my mind. God has been so faithful to them, not only to provide for them, but to bring them through His own "curriculum" to help them grow.

The speaker was the Philippine Ambassador to Laos, a dynamic Christian lady by the name of Elizabeth Buensuceso. She talked about what is involved in being an ambassador for the Philippines. Her official title is "Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipoteniary" or "AEP" for short. She explained about the power that she holds in representing the Philippine government in Laos, the responsibilities she has, and the privileges she enjoys. Then she compared it to our role as ambassadors for Christ. It was one of the most motivating talks I have ever heard. I have heard sermons before about being an ambassador for Christ, but never one delivered by a real ambassador. It was fascinating!

And, as always, I cried during the ceremony. We will miss these students so much! I laughed as our two students from Vanuatu marched across the stage. A few years ago, when they applied to ISOT, I had no clue where Vanuatu was. Now, they are leaving a gaping hole in my heart as they go! Who knew that a tiny island in the South Pacific could become so precious to us? And the tears flowed again as I watched our only graduate from Pakistan. It's a country where some Christians are called upon to pay a heavy price for their faith. And Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, China, Vietnam . . . all tough places to serve. I remember our graduating student from Vietnam telling me last month, "The worst they can do is kill me. But they can only do it once." I was humbled by her determination to serve God to the end. It's hard to explain the mixed emotions as funny memories of their antics at ISOT mingled with the sober realization that they were heading into battlefields. I'm so proud to have had the chance to serve them for three years.

This is the graduating class of 007, along with the faculty, board members and guests. The lady in the front row, center, wearing a light green skirt, is Elizabeth Buensuceso, AEP.

This is Pastor Rogie, who I wrote about last month. It was a delight to see him graduate!

This is Tina and Titus Yi, some of our "best beloved" students. They are from Korea, but have spent ten years serving our God in China. They are a great encouragement to us too.

The "Ate" Stories

(My name at ISOT, to our students, is "Ate" (pronounced Ah-tey). It is a Filipino word for older sister, and is a title of both respect and affection. I hear the word “Ate” a hundred times a day, as students drop by my office to share excitement (“Ate, guess what!”) or anxiety (“Ate, I’m scared!”) or joy (“Ate, God is so good!”). I have often toyed with the idea of writing a book, and if I do, I will call it The Ate Stories. But in the meantime, I have decided to share the stories with you, as they unfold, in my blog. So here goes, the first “Ate” story . . .

Yesterday morning I reached into my mailbox and pulled out a blue envelope. I opened it and saw a flowered “thank-you” card. As I read the card, tears filled my eyes.

Under the printed verses, it said, “Dear Ate, I still remember the day when we prayed together in your office for my studies. A few days from now I will graduate. THANK YOU! ... Rogie"

Why the tears? It goes back two years ago to the day mentioned in the card, “the day when we prayed together.”

Rogie was an ex-prisoner, and he was introduced to me on that day by Pastor Noel, another ex-prisoner who had recently graduated from ISOT. Both men were involved in ministering to drug addicts, street children, and prisoners by the thousands in the overcrowded prisons and jails in Metro Manila. Pastor Noel saw great potential in Rogie, and felt that ISOT training was just what he needed! He brought him to me that day to persuade me to find Rogie a scholarship so that he could study at ISOT.

Pastor Noel started things off. “Rogie, this is Ate. Tell her your story.” (Pastor Noel has an amazing story of his own, but I will save it for another day.) Rogie told a harrowing tale of being abused as a child by a drunken father, becoming a policeman and later a drug addict, losing his marriage and family, and finally killing someone during a drug deal gone wrong. He ended up in prison where he found the Lord, and was discipled by Pastor Noel and some other Christians. Eventually he was released from prison and incredibly, won back the love of his wife and children. He was now working as an assistant pastor in a church in the poorest part of Manila. He told me, “In the seven years I was in prison my wife did not visit or call or write even once. But now, we visit the prison together – every day.”

I promised to try to find a scholarship, and I offered to pray for Rogie before they left. At that moment my assistant stepped out of our office, and as I bowed to pray, this thought popped into my head: “I am alone in this room with two convicted murderers!” But I reminded myself that they were no longer “hardened criminals” – they were my brothers. So I prayed and thanked God for all He had done in their lives and asked Him to help me find a scholarship for Rogie. After I finished, I looked up and saw both of my brothers with tears streaming down their faces. I realized that I was probably more “hardened” than they were. For them, the mercy of God is new every day and they never stop being awed by it. I could learn a thing or two from them.

God did provide a scholarship for Rogie, and he came to study at ISOT for two years. Every time I saw him in the hallway or classroom, I thanked God for the privilege of helping him be equipped for ministry. He already had a great passion for God, and it has been exciting to see him grow in his leadership skills and his effectiveness in ministry. And in a few more days, he will receive his Master of Arts in Christian Leadership and will be back in the field full time.

I've no doubt that it will only be a matter of months till Pastor Rogie shows up at my office with another ex-convict in tow, telling him, “This is Ate. Tell her your story.” I love my job!

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