The squatters

One of my favorite things during my trip, and one of the most important ministries Shiloh Bible Baptist Church does, was to visit the poor. On Mindanao, many of the poorest live in squatter settlements. I had the privilege to visit several of them while I was making my visit, for various reasons.

Many of the poor who live in these settlements are Subanen, the native people who are fleeing the violence in the mountains. 

The water is stagnant pond
water with a colony
of mosquitoes.

One of the places we visited was in the home of one family in the church. These particular people left the mountains because of communist rebels, and they bought a house for about $70. It is in the swamp, a nipa house with bamboo floors that are not very sturdy. Perhaps the overweight American was not a good fit for the floors and added extra stress, but there's no reason to speculate on that.

The family never complains, but they are often sick from the water and the constant mosquito attacks. When it rains heavily (as it often does), the water rises through the floor, and all that nasty water comes into the house. The plank walkway you see in the photo will then be covered by several feet of water. The family members have to walk through the water to get to the street and go to school or work or church. We are praying we can help this family have a better home. May God allow us to do that.

Lessons in Katipunan

One Saturday, we made the short trek to a settlement in Katipunan. The settlements are often on the waterfront, since this is mostly public land. The settlers make their living as fishermen or other sea trades. On this day, I saw a children's Bible study. The children were taught Bible lessons, and just as the adults would be, they were taught doctrinal lessons from the streamers Pastor Mario draws.

Our teacher, sister Grace, did a good job with the children. They sang songs, played games and were instructed out of the Bible. They even claimed to see an Amerkano, but I never saw him.

My personal highlight, though, was when we traveled to the extension in Pasil, Roxas. This extension is the fruit of the labor of Bro. Soliva. I am hating myself for forgetting his first name. But should his daughter send me a message, I will update the blog with that information.

There is a public meeting space in the settlement, right next to the Roman Catholic chapel. Many of the residents are Roman Catholic, and our brother has done a great job of explaining the true Gospel to these dear souls.

Some girls do a special music number in Pasil, Roxas.
In the background is Pastor Mario, on the right, and Bro. Soliva,
who founded the extension in this village.

Can you say full house?

The first thing you notice when the bus stops in these settlements is the smell. The people have their pigs and chickens and dogs (some for pets, some for food), and the smell of excrement is strong. But the people are very eager to meet you, and they are very friendly. I was, frankly, surprised at the turnout.

We met on a Wednesday morning in Pasil, but the place was beyond full. Children were especially plentiful once again. Frankly, I underestimated the gospel knowledge of these dear souls. Bro. Soliva has done a wonderful job explaining the doctrines of the Bible to these precious people.

I tell you this next part hesitantly, because I don't want it to be prideful. But these dear souls are not used to seeing an Amerkano. In fact, one of the adults shook the hand of Bro. Soliva and thanked him for bringing "the Amerkano" to them. It meant so much to them that there was an Amerkano there. We don't know how much encouragement we can be by simply spending time with the poor, the outcast.

After the service, the parents wanted their children to have their photos made with the Amerkano. At first, the parents brought their babies up. Some were more excited than others. One baptized me with his cracker, and I had crumbs all over my shirt. Fortunately, I later spilled my orange juice on my shirt to wash off the crumbs.

After the service, they also asked me to teach the children a few Hawaiian words. That's good, because I only know a few Hawaiian words. I taught them a few, including the favorite Hawaiian word "aloha." It means, hello, goodbye and love. This quickly became the kids' favorite word.

This gentleman was not happy to see me.

Someone got the idea for us to take a photo by the sea. So, we went through the maze of houses to find a good spot to take photos. I walked with 20-30 shadows, all walking very close. At one point, they shouted in unison, "al-o-ha, al-o-ha," as we walked around the settlement.

What a blessing for me to spend time with such precious children. It is humbling to know I encouraged them at all. Such an incredible blessing to me.

Let's remember that the Bible often calls us to remember the poor. How wonderful to remember those who cannot do anything for us. Let's pray for SBBC Punta and its effort to reach the poor in the various parts of that country.

Let's also pray for men like Bro. Soliva, who travel to the extension churches at their own expense. Pray they will continue to have their jobs that pay them well enough to accomplish God's purposes. Also, let's pray and see if God would have us support the ministry as a whole. Perhaps God will use us for that purpose. 

Me and my shadows.

May God draw many of these dear ones to Himself!

Proclaiming Messiah in Mabas -- Subanen outreach Part 2

The first Sunday I was in the Philippines, I was blessed to preach in the church of Pastor Clemente Gumapit, who lives and works in Salug. 

The associate pastor reads
from Luke's Gospel.

It was a joy and a privilege to help him celebrate his anniversary service at Salug. Pastor Clemente's church is one of the first we were able to help last year when the ministry first began.

Below you will see photos of Pastor Clemente's parsonage. Thanks to our partnership with Love in Acton Ministries, we were able to buy the church a new lot in 2011 and pay for the construction of the parsonage earlier this year. The parsonage is almost complete, with only a little work left to be done. At least, such was the case when we visited there in late April. The progress is very likely further along at this point.

We are thankful to be able to help Pastor Clemente with those needs, but the point of this blog entry will be the ministry we were able to do with Pastor Clemente. On May 7, Pastor Clemente led us to Mount Malindang, the home of many villages of Subanen, the native tribe we mentioned in an earlier post. You see, Pastor Clemente is Subanen, and he has family members still living in the places where the Gospel has not reached.

The parsonage for Pastor Clemente in Salug.

Mount Malindang is the tallest mountain on Mindanao, and it is also in a critical area. Pastor Clemente was living in the municipality of Lopez Jaena many years ago when he encountered the Gospel. He now carries a deep burden to reach his fellow Subanen with the truth of Jesus, and His death and resurrection.

The day started very early for us. We had a convoy of motorbikes, and we left around 5 or 6 a.m. from Punta. Pastor Clemente, his wife, my hostess, her two brothers, Pastor Mario, Bro. Joel and I started the journey to Mabas, in the municipality of Lopez Jaena, in the province of Misamis Occidental.

We were beset by many difficulties. While we were traveling, we had to replace the tire on one of our caravan's motorbikes. We also had to buy rice and some other necessities because Mabas would not have rice. It was too high up in the mountain. On the way back, Pastor Mario's motorbike had many issues, and we had to stop for repairs often. Such is the life of these pastors. They are often hindered from ministry by challenges to their transportation and resulting expenses.

Mount Malindang in the clouds. Near the mountain is the
base of the New People's Army, the communist rebels of
Mindanao. Last September, an officer in the Philippine army
was killed in a skirmish with the NPA.

But God provided, and we were able to make the trek. The road up the mountain was similar to the others roads we traveled, but thankfully, part of it was paved. The military has paved a strip for many kilometers, but the road is only wide enough for a motorbike. The trip was rather tiring.

Along the way, we stopped to get a look at Mount Malindang in the distance. It was beautiful going up there. As we looked at the mountain, Pastor Mario pointed to another mountain near where we were going. It was where the New People's Army, the communist rebels of the island, has a large outpost. Violent clashes with the military are common, and in September, a high-ranking officer in the Philippines military was killed there in a skirmish with the NPA.

In fact, we spend the night in Mabas because of the rebels. Pastor Mario told me, "If we travel at night, the communist snipers think we are military and will shoot at us, and the military snipers think we are communists and will shoot at us." I agreed that staying overnight was wise.

Even though the road was paved in parts, it was still hard on the motorbikes, the drivers and the passengers. We had to stop for rest often to eat a snack or just to get some rest.

Pastor Clemente takes a break from driving. Notice the narrow
pavement we had traveled. We were thankful for paved roads,
no matter how small.

Finally, when we got to the end of the road, we stopped. That was Mabas. If we had driven any more, we would have fallen off the cliff. We visited with Pastor Clemente's mother and sister for a few hours while we rested. I also tried some local food called "sweet ginaums." Since the village is at such a high elevation, fish are not easy to obtain. So, when they do venture down to the plain to buy the small fish that are a staple of the diets on Mindanao, they heavily salt them for preservation. After a few days, the fish start to smell bad. But after 40 days, the fish start to smell sweet. That's how you know they are ready to eat.

Additionally, since the village is far too high for rice fields, the staple food is kamote, a kind of sweet potato. If you are on the plain, you will have "rice and" for breakfast, lunch and dinner. On the mountains, it will be "kamote and" for all three meals. They also will boil the greens from the kamote. We had that for part of our meal.

Up in these mountains, the food is not at all like what is eaten on the plain. The tropical fruits don't grow up in the mountain jungle, and so the diet is much different. The people live off of kamote, chickens and whatever vegetables they can grow. They also hunt for wild animals, frogs, monkeys, wild pigs, snakes, etc. I was promised a wild-game supper, but apparently, the hunters did not fare so well. There's always next time.

The people were kind and friendly in the village, or barangay, of Mabas, even if they were shy around the Amerkano. They had an elementary and a high school. But they had no church. No church of any kind was in Mabas.

So, that's why we were there. We said earlier that Pastor Clemente was a Subanen. Actually, he was more than that. His late father was the chieftain, so when he arranged the meeting ahead of time, everyone was sure to be there. I asked my hostess for the trip, also a Subanen, how much authority the chieftain had. She was a member of a group from a different area, so she had a different chieftain. Still, I asked her if the people had to obey the chieftain. She said, "Yes, or you get shot."

We did not take any guns, of course, but you get an idea of how the Subanen live. So, when the son of the late chieftain says, "We will meet on this date," everyone shows up. We were told the meeting would begin at 5 p.m., so we went to the barangay hall a few minutes early. About 5:15, Pastor Clemente made sure all of the traveling party was assembled, and then he looked toward the village. He stood where he was clearly visible, and he clapped his hands.

From left, the barangay captain, Pastor Clemente, Pastor
Ronilo Buyog and me, Taas Na Ilong.

Immediately, doors started opening up, and people started walking toward the barangay hall. Now, the hall was a wood building with dirt floors and an elevated stage. There were no lights. But the people came. The entire village was there, from babies to the barangay captain.

The religion of the Subanen is an animistic religion. They worship things in nature. I am not exactly sure about all they believe, but as I understand it, they believe in many spirits.

God really impressed on my spirit the sermon Paul made to Mars Hill in Acts 17. When you are preaching to people who have never heard the name "Jesus" in their lives, who worship all manner of false spirits, how do you start? It's best to follow Paul's lead. Paul begins with creation, and declares a message from the God who created all things. Incidentally, that's why we as Christians must not compromise on the lie of evolution. We serve the Creator, and it is His message we declare.

Many from the village attend the meeting.

So, after Pastor Clemente made introductions and with Pastor Mario translating for me, I declared the God of creation. Basically highlighting the sermon Paul preached, I told them of the God of creation, Who had made every single person. I gave them Paul's message, that God has created every race and every culture, and He is the God of all men. I shared with them how God commanded men to worship God and God alone. I warned them of the penalty for disobeying this command.

Pastor Clemente prays to start the meeting.

Then I got to share with them how God has been patient up until now, but now He had appointed a time when they must repent. I shared how He would judge all men by the One who was dead and lives again. I shared with them how Jesus, who is fully God and fully man, died for the sins of all who would believe. How God poured out His wrath on Jesus, and by placing our faith in Jesus, we can be saved. I told them how Jesus came back from the dead, and so will we if we believe on Him.

Pastor Mario then spoke for a little while in the Visayan language. Then, Pastor Clemente returned to explain the Gospel further. He then led the group in a prayer of repentance. As far as we can tell, the entire group prayed to receive Christ. Including children, the total number is between 40 and 60.

I say, "as far as we can tell," for one main reason. Romans 10:9 tells us, "That if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved." Notice the two elements there. First, confession with the mouth. We heard that. But second is belief in the heart. We can't see another person's heart. Furthermore, we remember Jesus' parable of the sower and the seeds, that there are many who appear to believe but who, in fact, do not.

Pastor Mario, left, interprets for me.

However, prior to the trip and on the day of this meeting, I was drawn to Acts 9:35. It is a small verse, and Luke seems to pass by the wonder of it in such a matter-of-fact way. It says, "And all that dwelt at Lydda and Saron saw him, and turned to the Lord." I remember praying with this verse on my heart. I wanted to see something like this. If God could turn two entire villages to Himself back in the first century, why couldn't He do it now? I think sometimes we forget Who our God is. It may be that God answered that prayer of mine. Only He knows for sure, and we will know only in eternity.

Pastor Clemente leads in a prayer of repentance.

After this meeting, my heart was saddened yet. I watched these new believers go back to their homes with no pastor, no church, no way to grow. They can't even read English up there, so the KJV Bibles we send to the Philippines would do no good. Pastor Mario told me they are praying for a man to be willing to go up to Mabas and be either a pastor or an extension preacher, such as we noted in a previous entry. Since the land is all public, they can build without buying a lot (different laws than in the U.S., huh?), and since the place is in a jungle, lumber is not an issue. All that is needed for the building is labor, nails and metal for the roof.

Please join me in praying for this village, with so many new believers, that there will be either a pastor or extension preacher willing to make the trip up there. Perhaps God will use us to support a full-time pastor in Mabas. A pastor would need support, because the village is too poor to support one itself.

Pastor Clemente told us about another village that is beyond Mabas. It requires a four-hour hike through the jungle. There is no church, no Gospel outreach in this village, either. Does that concern you? People living, marrying, having sadness and joy, growing old, worrying about their children, all without the light of Christ. What does that do to your heart? Please join us in prayer for the Subanen.

Hazardous cargo

This entry will be a bit different, because I won't name a lot of specific details about places and people for rather obvious reasons. Also, I won't put up many photos for the same reasons.

Before I tell the story of my second trip into the mountains, and the only one into Zamboanga Sibugay, I want to tell you what has been on my heart for years. Before I moved to Hawaii, I tried on two different occasions to get a job in the Middle East. The primary reason was that I wanted to minister among Muslims.

Frankly, it angers me when Christians express fear of Muslims. We have no reason to fear them. In fact, Jesus tells us explicitly not to fear them. Jesus said in Matthew 10:28, "And fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him which is able to destroy both soul and body in hell." That's not a suggestion; that's a command. 

The worst a Muslim can do to us is kill us. And we don't know that they will. But we do know what will happen to every Muslim who dies without receiving the salvation of Jesus Christ. What God will do, the One we are to fear, is certain. It is lazy, self-centered, Christ-denying disobedience for us to fear Muslims. We must pursue them with the gospel. If we die? Then we're with Christ. But there is no tragedy if we die trying to reach them; the only tragedy is when they die without having a chance to respond to the Gospel.

So, anyway, several months before my trip, I begged my host pastor for the chance to visit a certain pastor in the "critical area" where Muslims dominate. Pastor B.B. works among the Tausug tribes, a very fierce Muslim tribe on Mindanao. In fact, the word "Tausug" means "brave," and they take that seriously. This tribe was the first tribe on Mindanao to convert to Islam centuries ago, and though not the only Muslim tribe on the island, it is considered the most fierce. I was surprised when my host pastor agreed to let me go.

In midst of this stronghold of Satan is a small church, trying to reach the people with the good news. The work has been hard, and it has been slow. After about 10 years of work, the fruits have been small. Pastor B.B. said, "It's like the days of Noah here. There are only eight of us." 

Doing the best to hide the white before our trip up the mountain.

The days leading up to the trip to the Tausug area were interesting, to say the least. My hosts had to go to four or five different bus companies before they found a company willing to take us there. Even then, the bus could only take us so far, and we had to stop in another city. From there, the pastor to the Tausugs provided motorbike drivers to take us to his place. Including the motorbike drivers, we rode four men to a motorbike up some of the muddiest, rockiest unpaved roads you can imagine. But we will get to that in a minute.

We left at midnight, picking up a few pastors along the way. Many of them had never been to this place before, and I certainly had never been. In fact, they would tell me I was the first Amerkano to visit this particular ministry. My host pastor even called me "suicidal." 

When we arrived in the town where we were to meet Pastor B.B., we got out of the bus to stretch our legs. While we were stretching, I noticed a sad, mournful sound coming out of some PA speakers. It took my sleep-deprived brain a few moments to realize what I heard, but then it clicked. I was hearing the Muslim call to prayer. What a horrible sound. It is somewhere between a song and a chant, but it is so sad sounding. Then, if you consider that it is the sound of a man guiding lost souls into damnation, then it is even more heart-breaking. Clearly, I became wide awake when I heard that sound.

While we waited, we went to the home and church of another pastor who serves in the town where we made our rendezvous. He and his family served us bread and coffee, and if you've never had pan de sal for breakfast, you are missing out. It's a great little piece of bread. After several minutes, Pastor B.B. arrived.

This was a great moment for me, because this man is a hero of mine. Years ago, he was working as a fisherman in another part of the island. He was attending a livelihood class by a certain pastor, teaching how to repair electronics. This pastor used the livelihood ministry to share his faith, and he led Pastor B.B. to Christ through these meetings.

Pastor B.B. then moved back to his home to bring the Gospel. He makes use of a verse in the Qu'ran that tells Muslims to know the God of the Bible. He tells them he has done what Mohammed commanded. Also, he tells people he has found the true Islam. (I love puns, so this gets me excited). He says Muslims follow Mohammed, but Islam is to follow Isa, the name by which they know Jesus.

This might make you uncomfortable, but remember, to a Muslim, a Christian is a Crusader. We must bear the sins of the past, even those committed by nominal Christianity. If you're involved in international missions, especially ministry that goes to dangerous parts of the world, you must be ready to encounter situations and circumstances you don't find comfortable. But you must be humble enough to realize that God doesn't need your input in all situations.

After a few moments of fellowship, we started to get ready for the rocky road. As we said earlier, after the driver, there were three men on each motorbike. So, that's four men to each motorbike. Close doesn't begin to describe it. Further, they put me between two Filipinos to try to hide me as much as possible. I also put on a jacket (lent by my pastor-in-law) and a baseball cap (lent to me by a pastor's daughter) to try to hide the white as much as possible.

So, with freshly cracked ribs and still too much blond hair and white skin showing, we began the trip up the mountain. I have never ridden with hazardous cargo before, but this time, I was the hazardous cargo. The bike drivers were not too keen on having a bunch of Christians on the bikes, much less one Amerkano, so they took those curvy, muddy, rocky roads so very fast. My ribs did not enjoy that.

Mercifully, we made it to the church. The pastor's house is on the same property as the church, and they showed me where the old building had stood. The Moros had burned the first church building, but now they had a new place to worship. We ate a large breakfast (I once again used my spiritual gift of eating to make sure there was no offense), and we waited for the congregation.

While we waited, Pastor B.B. gave me a hat and a scarf. Much of the worship for these people still bears the traditions with which they are familiar. In Islam, to be considered a holy man, and therefore able to speak the words of God, you must wear a certain hat. In this Tausug church, the tradition is preserved, so the pastor was giving me a great honor by giving me this particular hat and allowing me to speak to his congregation.

As we ate, the congregation started to arrive. I met a man who showed me his membership card from the Moro National Liberation Front. On Mindanao, there are three main Muslim separatist groups, the MI (Moro Islamic), the MN and the Abu Sayyaf. This man was a general in the MN, and he was sworn to kill anyone who preached salvation by Isa. In fact, he wanted to kill pastor B.B. at one time. But Christ converted him, and now he is a faithful member of the church.

I asked him what the pastor said to convince him, and he said, "He told me, 'If you don't accept Isa, you will go to hell.'" That's what we call the direct approach.

I should point out that very close to where we met is the forest where the Moro Islamic Liberation Front has its hideaway. The Moros who get into trouble with the army flee there for refuge. We were at the gates of hell, quite literally. Also, just off the coast of the place we met was another island. It was made up totally of Muslims from any of these three groups. This island is where my pastor friend's family was attacked back in January for sharing the Gospel.

When the service began, we were able to give words of encouragement. There were testimonies and the word of God shared. I even sang along in the Tausug hymns, though I am sure I butchered the language. I was blessed to be able to share with the congregation from 2 Kings 5, the story of Naaman. Particularly, I shared with them how the little girl whose parents were killed by the Syrian army was able to point her master to healing and eventual salvation. Two of my friends told me that while I was speaking, a bomb exploded on the other island near to us. I didn't hear it, but they both told me of it.

After the service, we were able to fellowship over lunch (many good eats). We also visited with the members and the pastor's family. Then it was time to head back down the mountain, ribs notwithstanding.

It is impossible to describe the emotion I felt when we arrived at the bottom of the mountain. Relief was only a small part of the feeling. To go there and to minister among the Moros, you have to be mentally prepared that you might not come back. I wouldn't be the first Amerkano to lose his life on this island, so I had to leave that in God's hands.

But there was joy, satisfaction, elation. We had done what we were told we couldn't do. People in the host church and other friends of mine in the Philippines repeatedly told me, "You can't go there." BUT WE DID! Glory to God.

As we made our final turn into the street where the church in the rendezvous town was, Pastor B.B., sitting behind me on the motorbike, said, "Whatsoever you ask in my name, believing, it shall be given to you." Who knows how long this forgotten little flock had longed for some outside recognition from others in the family. Consider what it must be like to live daily with the realization your neighbors, your family, everyone around you could legally kill you. In fact, it is commanded by the religion you left behind when you found Christ for you to be executed.

These people live with this realization daily, and they feel isolated from the rest of the church. Do they not matter? What an unspeakable joy to be able to give to these precious souls a bit of encouragement. What an immense privilege to be used by God to nurture these precious souls.

Let's join with them in prayer. Let's remember our forgotten brothers and sisters. Also, let's pray for this particular church. They are praying for a lot that is adjacent to their current lot. The price and transaction fee is only 21,000 Philippine Pesos. That's slightly less than $500 US. It would give them a chance to build a larger building and bring in more to hear the Gospel. Let's pray and see what God might do.

Ministering to Moliton -- Subanen outreach Part 1

One of the most important things we did during my three-week trip to the Philippines was participate in the Subanen outreach. 

Pastor Buyog, left, a Subanen tribe member,
leads prayer before our trip to Moliton. Pastor
Mario is also pictured.

Subanen is a Visayan word for "native." The Subanen typically live in the mountains of Mindanao. Most mission work that is done on Mindanao, a southern island in the Philippines, is done on the plain in the big cities where travel is relatively easy. But there are many, many people in the mountains, many of whom have never heard the name of Jesus.


Ministering to these tribal people is very difficult. The people are so poor, one pastor described the work as "suicide." If you want to be a pastor to the mountains, you will die if you get sick, your children will starve to death. It's not a matter of if, but a question of when. You must understand this reality before you go into the mountains. This is the price that they must be willing to pay.

Pastor Mario Montero, pastor of Shiloh Bible Baptist Church in Punta, Dipolog City, is burdened for these souls. But how to reach them? As he prayed and fasted over this need, he came up with the idea of extension churches. Since all the men in his church are taught how to preach strong, Biblical sermons, they are able to plant extension churches in these mountains.

Aiza Buyog, my hostess and sister of Pastor Buyog, stands
with the Moliton extension church in the background.

One of the extension churches was in a place called Moliton. The first Wednesday I was there, God blessed me to be able to visit this extension church, and we attended a morning dedication and anniversary service.

Traveling in the mountains is not easy. The roads are not paved at all. You must ride a motorbike up muddy, rocky roads that take a terrible toll on the motorbike (not to mention your body, as I would find out later in my trip).

The Philippines government has ignored the poor mountain dwellers for many years, refusing to pave the roads. These poor farmers, because of the roads, are not able to take their produce to the plains. They can rent a truck, but the cost is five times more than the selling price of their items.

A closer look at the church building.

This constant poverty makes many Subanen ripe for wooing by the New People's Army, the communist rebel group that controls many of the mountains. We got to go near their strongholds later in the trip, but those stories are for another time.

Moliton was the easiest of our mountain excursions, but it was not easy by fat Amerkano standards. People in this part of the island were very unaccustomed to seeing a white person. Many would call to me from the roadside, "Hey Joe!," their designation for Americans.

Finally, we arrived at the church. As you can see from the photos, it is a small structure. The church members built it themselves, and the men who preach at this church pay their own way to minister to these people. They get no reimbursements for driving their motorbikes up the muddy, rocky roads.

Moliton is situated in a beneficial place for a church. The mountain village farmers meet in Moliton to sell their goods to people from the plains. In fact, contact through that business is how the first converts were made. So, many villagers from all over the mountains will travel to the market day on Friday, and if there are believers among them, they will stay until Sunday to attend the church.

A mother and her children arrive for the service.

One girl, who now lives at the church in Punta, is named Regen. Her family lives in Palampalay, a village in the mountain next to the mountain where Moliton is. Her family would hike 5 hours each way to attend the church after they converted. Regen is now a member of the school of discipleship in Punta, learning how to lead souls to Christ. Pastor Mario told me that when her family would be hiking down the mountain, through the valley, and back up the next mountain, they would sing hymns. He described how they would echo across the valley, and it would bring tears to the pastor's eyes.

The day was a wonderful one, and I am so thankful to have been a part of the meeting.

Sister Regen, whose family hiked five
hours each way to attend
the church in Moliton.

One of the first things I noticed was the abundance of children in the audience as we were waiting on the members to arrive. I remarked about the number of children, and a man told me, "The people up here are always making souls, so that's why there are so many children."

The people start making souls pretty early in life, and there is little understanding of birth control, my friend told me. So, there are many kids.

Pastor Mario preaches to the people.

There is a particularly disgusting cult up there that tells the people they can have their sins forgiven for only 500 Philippine pesos. So, these poor people will do all they can to give the cult leader 500 pesos. The leader gets rich, and these people think they can have God's forgiveness for only about 12 US dollars.

This same cult leader teaches the women that if they are young when their husband dies, the husband's soul takes up residence in the cult leader. So, the women must move in with him and let their deceased husband father children through the leader.

On this day, Pastor Mario preached in the Mindanao language of Visaya or Cebuano. Neither he nor I can understand the Subanen language, but they all speak Visaya, too. However, the Subanen do not understand English (unless they have been taught), so when it came my turn to speak, my friends Joel and Leah translated into Visaya to those around them.

You will notice the streamers hanging up around the church. Pastor Mario makes those so that people who struggle to follow the sermons audibly can still understand. The pictures also reinforce the points to those who cannot read. Twice, when I spoke, I pointed to a particular picture. 

Graciously, 8-10 people prayed to receive Christ after the service ended.

Before the service began, we had to break up a dog fight that broke out in the middle of the church. We ran most of the dogs out, but one fell asleep near where the podium was. When I was preaching, I went to point to an illustration of Christ on the cross, and I forgot about the dog. Fortunately, I did not fall, but I did stumble and irritated the sleeping dog. 

I had prepared an in-depth sermon on Psalm 103, but God led me at the last moment to simply read from Romans 8 and expound on the promises of salvation. Twice on this trip God put a new sermon on my heart hours or moments before I was to preach, and both times, God blessed with the salvation of souls.

After the sermons were over, Pastor Mario gave an invitation. Somewhere between 8 and 10 people responded to the gospel. We are thankful for the precious fruit from this trip.

Me and my squash, from this dear family.

Bananas from a dear sister.

Then we had a child dedication service. As you might imagine, that took a little while, with all the "soul making" going on. Some of the children were shy, but it was a blessed time.

After the meeting, it was time to eat. Those of you who know me well know I am always ready to eat. These dear people prepared many local dishes, and they blessed me with gifts. I was given a squash and a cluster of bananas.

Following the service and the meal, we hiked to the baptistry. Now, the baptistry is not like anything you've probably used in your church. We had to hike a mile or two, down hill. It was difficult going down hill, but the return trip was even tougher.

But oh, was it worth it. The baptistry is a pool below a waterfall in the valley down the mountain. After hiking that far, what could we do but go for a swim? Even in my Sunday dress clothes, that water felt really good.

It's a long way down there. Pant, pant, pant. 

The trip was wonderful, and I thank God for the precious souls in those mountains. Please, let us pray for the Subanen outreach. These precious souls need the gospel.

Join with us in praying for more laborers. Perhaps God would use us to help support some pastors to go up into the mountains, or help the weekend preachers who prepare sermons around their regular work schedule pay for their gas, motorbike repair and other needs.

But most of all, let's pray for laborers to reach these dear souls. May God bless you for reading, and may He strike your heart to have a burden for the unreached in the Philippines and elsewhere.

The baptistry is in the front pool. There is a strong current
in front of the waterfall, as I would soon discover.

Just because it is so beautiful. 

Holding onto the rock for dear life, hehe.

Obadiah parents meeting

It has been so long since I have written. I apologize; I had wanted to write updates from Dipolog City, but it was not feasible because of many factors.

However, in the coming days I hope to share many stories with you about my wonderful trip to the Philippines.

Today will be brief, but I hope it will encourage you. The first full day of my time on Mindanao (I arrived to Manila on a Thursday, and to Mindanao on a Friday, so my first full day on the island was Saturday, April 28) was a blessed day for me. I got to meet the parents and children of Obadiah Learning and Development, the outreach mission school for Shiloh Bible Baptist Church in Punta, Dipolog City.

The school does not charge the students, but the cost involved for each student must be raised. God has blessed me to be a sponsor for several of the students, and I was blessed to be able to meet many of the kids whom I sponsor. Their parents cooked me a variety of Filipino dishes. I have no idea what many of them were, but in order to be a good guest, I made sure I ate plenty. (Using my spiritual gifts.)

Me and my kids

I am most excited about this school because it is an outreach school. The parents must agree to either attend the church or allow a Bible study in their home if their children attend. The result has been the salvation of many families.

I had the privilege of baptizing one of the families while I was there. The daughters and mother were former Jehovah's Witnesses, but now they are part of the body of Christ. 

In addition to the children's sponsorships, the school is praying for the funds to build its own building. Right now, the school meets in the church building, but a lot has been donated for the purpose of allowing the school to be built. There is a five-year lease on the property.

The school can be built for only 150,000 Philippine pesos, roughly $3,600 in US money. We have already received donations for $1,100, but we are praying for the balance to be realized. The new building would serve as a meeting place for the children's discipleship during Sundays as well, and would be extra space for the church. The church in Punta has more than 5,000 members, but there is room for only about 200 people. 

So, please, let us pray for this need. And let us lift up Obadiah Learning and Development and its continued outreach to the lost.