Happy Birthday, Pastor Philip!

Friday, March 4th, was Philip’s 37th birthday. Philip and Liz are in the States for a couple of weeks, so we invited the church people to come last night so we could call Phil via the Skype video phone….

Many people showed up…I counted about 38. They crowded into the living room, expectantly waiting to see our beloved and missed Pastor.

When we got Phil on the phone, the “rondalla” (young boys’ singing group) sang 3 birthday songs, while everyone sang with them. As I looked around the room, watching everyone sing from their heart to our pastor, I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with emotion at the love these people obviously have for our pastor. He has earned their respect and their trust and their love, as he’s been with them through all kinds of heartaches: deaths of young children, rebellious teens, divorce, and rejection of family because of their faith in Christ….as he has rejoiced with them through the return of a stray son, the reconciliation of family members, the birth of precious babies, and the salvation of loved ones.

As I looked around the room, I thought, “Each of these could give testimony of how their pastor has been with them, weeping as they go through the valley and rejoicing with them as they have been on the mountain top.” Sweat and tears; laughter and joy have been woven into the fabric of the lives of these people as our pastor walks with us, patiently, faithfully leading us on…on to victory in our Christian lives.

“Thank You, Lord, for the Pastor which You have placed here. Thank You for upholding him in Your strength, giving him the strength he needs to lead us.”

And THANK YOU, Philip! We love you…as a brother and friend, but also as a pastor!!!

And We Miss You!

Shortwave Memories

Soon after Dad died, a dear friend of our family told us about the online Rejoice Radio (rejoiceradio.org). I “tuned in” and have not “tuned out” since. It is such an uplifting radio station, and it helps keep my thoughts on the Lord and His goodness and care over us.

One night, about one month after I returned from Dad’s funeral, the Back To The Bible program (J.Vernon McGee) came on. Andrew and I got in on the last part of the program, and as we heard the song, “Jesus Paid It All” at the end of the program, Andrew said, “I wish we had discovered this before Dad died. What fun he would have had sitting in his rocking chair in the living room, listening to his beloved J. Vernon McGee!"

I still listen to it every day. What a blessing to have uplifting Christian programming coming over the internet!

This morning, I remembered something I wrote to my Mom and sisters in May, 2004, and I wanted to share this with you. What kind of memories are we creating for our children?

Psalm 34:11 says, "Come, ye children, hearken unto me: I will teach you the fear of the Lord."

I was preparing my devotional for Norma's Baby Shower yesterday, and I came across this verse. I have been thinking about the following thoughts.

Remember when on Saturday mornings when we would all go into Dad's room (sleepy-eyed and in our pajamas and gowns) and climb into his bed (sometimes, Mom was still in bed...Dad lying there, still in his t-shirt) and listen on the short-wave radio to Odyssey, then to Children's Bible Hour? When I think back to those days, such a warm and comfy feeling comes over me. A whole hour of kids’ fun. We didn't care that it was so early. I remember going to sleep on Friday nights and thinking, "Tomorrow we get to listen to Odyssey and to Uncle Charlie!" Oh, and the mornings when we would sleep late and MISS those programs! It was awful!

Truly, the short-wave radios that Dad has had throughout the years have really been a wonderful thing. Not only getting to listen to programs in English, but Christian, English programs! Remember? Family Radio...HCJB...J.Vernon McGee? Voices of the past, we could say.What wonderful memories. Thank the Lord for such sweet memories to look back on. Those care-free childhood days!

Well, now to the present. Guess what. Andrew has a little short-wave radio that he bought several years ago at a little stand at the market. I think he said it cost him $140 pesos. It is no bigger than your hand. But it is a GREAT BIG thing when you are back in San Antonio. You click on a switch, and you can hear programming from the United States, from Chile, from Spain...France, Germany...all OVER the world! But our favorite is Family Radio. In the evenings, after Andrew's patients have gone home, and we come in from our showers (we have to go to another place to shower), Andrew brings out his handy little short-wave and pulls out the antenna and (M A G I C!)...the Scriptures are being read. Our favorite program is Open Forum (Foro Abierto), where people call in with Bible questions, and Hna. Olimpia reads the questions and Hno. Otto answers them. And we always learn. Hno. Otto is such a smart man when it comes to the Bible!

We are making new short-wave memories. This warm and comfy and sweet feeling comes over me, as I now remember our times in our little (nice) house in San Antonio. It's dark outside, because everyone has gone to bed. (And it is only 8:00!) No music is being played, no children are playing outside our house...just me and Andrew and our short-wave, because even Baby Andrew is sleeping. Sometimes we play Rummikub while we listen. Sometimes on Wednesday evenings, that will be our "church" time. And when Baby Andrew grows up, I hope that he, too, will have short-wave radio memories.

P.S. Just thought I'd post these pictures that I took of the kiddies while they were playing yesterday.

Cheethe, Pleathe!

Deborah Jolene

“Mommy, can I pleathe have thome cheethe?”

Ever since Debbie could talk, she has talked with a “lisp,” not being able to pronounce her “sssss” correctly. (By the way, I did the same thing, too.)

Well, she came into the kitchen last Sunday night as I was preparing quesadillas for our supper and she said, “Mommy, listen. Can I pleassssse have sssome cheessse?” She just smiled at me.

I put down my spatula I was using to turn the quesadillas and, pretending to cry, I hugged her and said, “Oh, no!! My baby’s growing up!” She just smiled and said, “I can talk like Thammy now. No, wait…I can talk like Sammy now.”

Andrew walked in at that moment and just smiled knowingly at me. I felt like that is the last “baby” thing she still does, and I don’t think I’m ready for her to out-grow that!

Every now and then she lets it slip, but she has nearly left that part of her “baby-hood.”

Do all mothers feel this way about their “baby”? Why do we want to hold on to their infancy? Maybe it is the need to still feel needed!

We don’t want them to become independent, as we know they will!

But for now, I’ll hold on to every word she says…and I’ll enjoy every new thing she discovers. She’s growing up too fast! Isn’t that what happens, though?

My Valentine!

I am so thankful for my Sweetheart. Every day with him is a blessing, and Valentine's Day was just a special day to remind each other and to focus on how wonderful it is to be so blessed! I thank the Lord for Andrew....he has been a sure and strong rock for me, especially during this last year; his quiet faithfulness is an inspiration to me to continue to just be faithful to the Lord, even in the midst of disappointments and struggles.

I Love You, Honey...All Year Long! I count it a true privilege to call you My Sweetheart!

Happy Valentine's Day!

Happy Valentine's Day!

Our internet is down at our house (I am at an internet place in town).

I will post a photo of my Sweetheart and me when I can get online at home.

I am thankful for your friendship!

With Love from Mexico!
Mrs. López

My Spirit Hath Rejoiced in God My Saviour

“And Mary said, My soul doth magnify the Lord.

And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.” Luke 1;46,47

24 years ago today I got saved...February 11, 1987. It was a Wednesday night. Before the service, I was sitting at the dining room table coloring. I remember very clearly I started singing, “I have decided to follow Jesus….” And it was as if the Holy Spirit spoke to my heart, “You need to get saved.” Before I went to church, I thought, “I want to get saved today.” Dad preached, and at the invitation time, when he asked if anyone would like to be saved, I raised my hand. Mom took me to her bedroom after church, read verses from the Bible to me, and I knelt down by her bed and asked Jesus to save me.

What a blessing it is to be saved; what peace is mine, knowing that there is now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus! My spirit is rejoicing in the blessings of being saved, and in the privilege of being able to serve my Saviour!

Please pray for me this evening (at 7:00), as I will be speaking to a group of teen girls from another Baptist church in town. I have been told that there will be unsaved girls there. Please pray that someone would be saved tonight!


“For HE that is mighty hath done to me great things; and holy is HIS name.”

Luke 1:49

He Shall Cover Thee With His Feathers

When Andrew moved to San Antonio (in February, 2001), he lived in a little room (which had been used as an examining room) in the clinic. Before we got married, Andrew told the villagers, “I can live anywhere; but I am going to get married in March, and I will have to move into Chilón (a very small town about 15 miles away from San Antonio) and rent a house there.” But the villagers said, “No, Doctor. We want you to continue to live in our village. We will build you a house here so the two of you won’t have to live in this little room.”

When we got married, they had already taken up a collection from all the villagers to buy building material for our house. Soon after we were married, they began building our house.

But the first months that we were married, we lived in that little room in the clinic. What precious memories we created there!!! The room was only big enough for a twin bed and a table; Andrew had an electric (single) burner on which I cooked. We had to walk about 160 yards (I counted one time!!!) to use the school bathroom. But we were happy. We were SO happy! I learned many things during the months that we lived in that little love nest.

San Antonio is a village that is nestled between other villages, many of which were occupied by Zapatistas. (The Zapatista Indians rebelled against the government in 1994. They are characterized by bandanas or black hoods they wear over their faces, and they are usually armed.) As you get off of the main highway, onto the dirt road that leads to San Antonio, there is a training ground for Zapatistas. Many times we would walk by and I could see boys as young as 12 years old being trained with real weapons. It was quite frightening for me (who had lived a very sheltered life!).

Our little room where we lived was right next to the road that led into San Antonio. Our window opened up to the little dirt road which was the main entrance to our village. At night, we would hear bats flying around the roof, or mice crawling around in the rafters above. (I would bury my head into my husband’s arm to be able to go to sleep!)

But one night, around 11:00, I heard what I thought was a pack of horses trotting by. I said to Andrew, “Who would be leading their horses out at night?!” (And in the village, by 8:00 p.m., everyone is usually in bed, and everything is quiet.) He said, “Those aren’t horses. They are the Zapatistas.” I shiver even now as I think about it. There must have been 200 of them! I was too scared to peek out the window, afraid they’d see me. I didn’t want to make the least bit of noise; I was so scared!

Andrew had lived back there long enough to know that if you don’t mess with them, they won’t mess with you (generally). But I had only heard scary, horrific things about these people. I had only lived there, perhaps, for a month.

I remember that night as if it were last night. I could not sleep. I just knew that any minute, one of them (or several of them!) would bust through our door and kill us. My imagination went wild. I began to cry softly. Andrew very tenderly said, “Please don’t worry. Try to go to sleep. The Lord is watching over us.” I remember repeating the verse in Psalms that says, “What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee,” over and over until I finally went to sleep. The Lord watched over us and got us through the night!

I remember hearing, on several occasions, the village men telling my husband about an attack by the Zapatistas on these villagers. Many times, they’d come warn my husband, “Don’t stay out after dark tonight. The Zapatistas have attacked a certain village.”

One day, I accompanied my husband by foot to a far-away village to treat some patients. We came to a tree that had a sign nailed to it which read, “You have just entered Zapatista territory. We are not a people under the government.” Andrew said, “Look around. Do you see anyone?” I said, “No.” He said, “But in this area, there are eyes everywhere. They are watching everything we do. You can’t see them, but they see us.” These villagers refused Andrew’s medical treatment; but we had to walk through these Zapatista villages to reach the ones who needed and accepted his help.

Many times I felt fear knowing that we lived so close to these rebels. But in the 7 years we lived in San Antonio, surrounded by them, they never once hurt us. On one occasion, one of the village chiefs asked Andrew to come preach to a group of these villagers! I know there were many unseen dangers surrounding us from which the Lord kept us.

“Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day;”
Psalm 91:5

Washing clothes by hand in the village