trust me

The Lord had called Susan and I to be a part of an exciting and cutting edge team of missionaries. We were starting something new and the excitement was in the air. The first step of this team had begun we were training a group of new missionaries. It was going to be a very practical and biblical training. We were gonna break the mold and do things different. And we did. But the first few days were VERY different, for me.

Day 1: My only responsibility that day was to teach a class on suffering. I had spent two years living and ministering to the Asheninka people on the Apurucayali river. During that time I had learned to lean on the Lord almost completely. It is funny how that happens when you realize you are inadequate for a task. I went to him everyday. I didn’t worry because he had shown himself faithful. But there was mild suffering involved. I had suffered weeks of the “green-apple quick step.” I had contracted Dengue fever. I had gone days without eating. I had worked until I could barely stand. Suffered hypothermia, yes, in the jungle. But, If you read the NT, this is normal disciple/missionary stuff. This is the life we live. The first time I saw someone come to Christ, all the suffering took on a different meaning. It all became worth it, I understood. Well, anyway, this is basically what I was teaching that day. Little did I know, I would be taking that road again, soon. But to an even greater degree. But I was thankful for the Lord calling me to teach that topic on that day. Because I would need to be reminded of those old lessons very soon. And when IT happened, those thoughts of his faithfulness were fresh on my mind. He is so good.

Day two: We had a new climbing wall that we were getting ready for the training. We were putting the finishing touches on it by trying it out. Five people climbed the wall before me, including 2 people in their sixties and my precious wife. When they were done we realized some of the hand/footholds were a little loose. So I went up to tighten them. When I got to the top and was finished I kicked out to repel down. The knot came loose, I fell 30+ feet and landed on my back. Pain exploded throughout my body. In an instant my plan was destroyed. But God’s plan began.

My wife and friends gathered around. Praying, examining, talking me through it. Susan asked what hurt. I told her my arms. She said, “okay, your arms are broken. What else?” I had this pain in my back, like when you lay on the bed with your legs hanging off and you feel pressure on your lower back. But all you have to do is bend your knees and take the pressure off your back and it relieves the pressure. Well, I had that x100. But I couldn’t move my legs. I told Susan, “I can’t feel/move my legs.”

I was speaking to the Lord at this instant, I said, “What is going on! You told me to come down here! I obeyed?! What are you doing? This can’t be right.” In that moment, I remember a peace falling on me, like his very presence fell and he said, “J, trust me.” Well, as I previously mentioned, I have seen God do incredible things, things we humans can not understand. So, I surrendered to trust Him. I said, “You have proven yourself faithful! Not only in my life, but throughout history. I WILL trust you, but I’m gonna need some help with this.”

I didn’t mention that all of this happened in a third world country. Services are not nearly as sofistocated, but the Lord provided in miracoulous ways. An ambulance arrived at the training camp (this is a miracle in itself), they had a stretcher specifically made for people with back injuries, they got me loaded up, took me to a clinic where they gave me a shot of steroids to stop the swelling. Then we started on the way to the capital, Lima (about an hour drive).

I remember that there were several people in the ambulance. Myself, Susan, Chris (my boss and mentor) and several Peruvian EMT’s. At the clinc, they gave me 2 advil for pain. I might as well have taken two apple jacks. The pain was excruciating. I told Chris, “Man, I need something to take my mind off the pain. Tell me the stories.” So Chris began at Creation, and told the story of how much He loves us. I was in and out so I don’t remember it all. But the story of Joseph was incredibly alive to me. The Lord opened my mind to this story. It became my anchor for the next few months. One thing I heard was at the end, when he was with his brothers. He said “What you intended for evil God meant for good…” I knew that part from Sunday school. But it was the next phrase that helped me to retain my trust in him. “…and the salvation of many.” When I heard that, the Lord said “j. just watch what I do, you will love it” that is the last thing I remember from the ambulance.

But I was told later, that they had been running with the siren on. As Chris told the story, the EMT’s were so interested in the story, they demanded the driver turn the siren off so they could hear the story better. He was already fulfilling his word to me.

When I arrived at the hospital in Lima, they told me my back and arms were indeed broken. I would need surgery. So we sent for med-evac.∗ Then we waited, they were still giving me advil for pain. I pulled Chris aside and begged him to get me some real medicine. I don’t know what he got or where he got it, but it worked. I had one and a hlf days to wait for the medevac to arrive.

I found throughout this ordeal, that our enemy is a cruel snake. He comes when you are weakest, at your lowest point and he begins his destructive work. He desires so much to kill us, steal our joy and faith, destroy our lives. He came to me in the night throughout this ordeal. Through most of this, I was alone in the room at nighttime. And I knew he was coming every night.*Luke 22:53* He came with accusations, doubts, discouragements, lies. The first night was no different.

The first night in the Lima hospital, I had a Peruvian roommate. He was a very old man. He was in a lot of pain and seemed to be on deaths door. I was exhausted from the whole ordeal, I just wanted to rest. But my roommate was loud. He cried out all night begging for the famous Peruvian soft drink, Inca Cola. “Señorita! Inca Cola! Por favor… Señorita…” all night. I must admit, I had lost all grace at this point. I was annoyed and I was just wanting some sleep. But it went on for hours. Finally, as I was selfishly begging the Lord to make it stop. He told me to pray for him. I felt so stupid. This man is in pain and all I care about is my sleep. I prayed for him, then the Lord settled me into a deep sleep. I awoke in the middle of the night to find, what I thought at the time was an angel, praying at my bedside. I felt such comfort from the Lord, I was not forgotten. I found out the next day, it had been a nurse, one of the saints coming to my aid in time of need. This special woman had also shared with the family of Inca Cola man a little about his roommate (me). The family came to me that morning. They told me that after hearing his roommate was a missionary, Inca Cola man wanted to speak with me. They rolled our beds side by side. This frail old man wept as he told me about his life and how he had failed miserably, how he was broken and wicked. He said he wished it had been different. I shared with him about my savior, about the thief on the cross and some others stories. I saw hope enter his eyes. He followed Jesus that day.

As they rolled his bed back over to his side and they pulled the curtain, I wept quietly. I talked with the Lord “I understand… and I still trust you. If all of this was just so my new friend and brother could know you, it was worth it. These are eternal things, Lord. Help me to be able to do this…please”

The Med-evac plane came. I went to the states in a cloud of real drugs, finally. Upon arriving, I went into emergency trauma surgery. First my back, then both my arms. I woke up a day or two later in a hospital bed. Soon thereafter they moved me next door to the rehab hospital. They told my parents, to prepare themselves. I would more than likely be in a wheelchair the rest of my life. No one told me. It didn’t matter. I had stopped trying to understand what the Lord was doing or how. I just had enough energy to obey the little things he told me to do. I had no energy to waste on figuring out his reasoning, or questioning his love. Just obey, I kept telling myself.


The enemy continued his nightly visits. He beat the hell out of me night after night. The darkness was so oppressive those nights. The Lord fought for me those nights. Johnny Cash’s American IV was the soundtrack. They were hard fought battles. It was visably obvious how beat up I was on the outside. I think I was even worse on the inside. I continued to trust, He continued to fight for me. The Lord had something to show me but I had to walk through this first, and I did. Step by painful step.

The Lord used to use the prophets in a personal way. He would cause them to marry an adulterous wife. So that they could deeply understand the heart of their masters message. Because to a somewhat lesser degree they had experienced the betrayal and pain of their Lord. He often used their bodies and lives as object lessons. So that his prophets and then His people could see God’s word for the situation. This was almost always uncomfortable, painful, humiliating and sometimes just plain weird. I know it was all of those things when it happened to me.

Let me set the stage for you. I was in the hospital bed in Dallas, TX. I was broken and beaten, inside and out. I had lost 40 lbs in 2 weeks as my muscles atrophied. I was unable to walk, or even move my legs. I had external capacitors and pins on both arms, so I couldn’t use them for much either. I had to be turned regularly to avoid bed sores. My wife shaved me, fed me and most everything else. I had no control of my bodily functions and wore a diaper. I was basically a blob of physical and emotional pain unable to do anything because my body would not cooperate. I had gone from being one of the most physically capable people on the field to being helpless in an instant. The only time there was an illusion of normalcy was when I was talking with someone. They would say, “Oh, it’s the same old j.” or “he hasn’t lost his sense of humor.” But as I looked at myself in that bed helpless, the Lord spoke. “You are my church.” He said. And then I was flooded with understanding.

It is no wonder, we have become almost incapable of changing our world on a New Testament scale. Some of us have become disconnected from the head, like my legs. We are no longer receiving our orders, vision or life plans from Christ directly. We are getting them from other sources and we have turned into ourselves to figure it out. We hear sermons from a human mediator, then decide if it applies to us. As my legs got cut off from the brain, they became incapable of taking me to the places I wanted to go. Just as the church lies here in our spiritual hospital bed in the US. Incapable of going where Christ sends us. Because we have turned into ourselves to figure it out instead of obeying the command of the head, otherwise known as the Great Commision. The largest percentage of Christians live in the US. The world is being deceived and abused by our enemy and we have settled into our little lives.

The arms and hands of the church, like my own are so beaten and bruised that they can not heal their communities and bring the kingdom to bear on the US. Letting them see his love mercy and grace. The emotional/spiritual wounds in the church is staggering, but it is hidden under a thin veil. It needs to be healed, so that we can get about his work. That healing will come from above, but it must also come from the other hand. As I healed, I had to learn to clean my wounds, just as the church should learn to care for its own wounded.

The only thing that seemed to work correctly was my mouth. No surprise to most. The church is no different. The pastors (mouths) are some of the hardest working saints in the kingdom. I would argue that they often do more than they should due to the poor condition of the rest of the body. But my wife often told me when I would say something weird or crazy due to the drugs I was on. See, even my mouth seemed to be somewhat disconnected from the brain. The same is true in the church, many pastors are drunk off the power and authority of their “position.” They can grow prideful, they hide their struggles and sins and let them fester. Even the most healthy of the body was noticeable sick.

I cried out, “Oh Lord, what hope is there for your church then? How do we recover from this mess?” The Lord was silent…

A couple of days later, my therapist came to visit. She said “we are going to stand up today.” Though I showed a strong exterior, I was afraid. I didn’t want to fall again. I was not sure I could do it. But she brought in a special walker and I stood/leaned for like 5 minutes. It was so difficult that I soaked my shirt through with sweat, just standing. The next day, I took a 4 inch step. Possibly the ugliest, floppy step you ever saw. But it was a step. The next day, 4 tiny steps every day I was exhausted because my body was not accustomed to doing these things. The body forgets so quickly how to obey the head. The church is no different. I had to learn all over again, against all odds. I worked harder than I thought possible, and it was then that the Lord’s answer came. “There is always hope, this is how she will recover.”

I realized what a rough and painful road it would be. But it must be done. The church has to learn to walk again. She has to learn to care for herself and others. She has to remember how to hear the voice of the father and obey without question. I had no idea what it would look like. I just knew it would be different. I trusted that he would show me and I would show others as I learned.

It was through this experience, that the Lord Illuminated 1 Corinthians 12 and Romans 12 to me and gave them very personal significance as it relates to His church. I encourage you to read these passages and see what I mean.

Now, after I was released from the hospital. Through an interesting set of circumstances the Lord placed us into a small group of believers. We met weekly. I don’t think any of us know why we were there. But the Lord used them to give me the first step of this new journey. We had intimate fellowship with these other believers. Honestly, they helped put Susan and I back together emotionally. We talked about our Lord and his goodness. We discipled one another. We didn’t have to call it a house church or a bible study or any other name. It was just his body learning to function. I had always been the minister/leader since I was in high school. It felt so good to be the one who was ministered to. It was awesome to see the Lord lead us to this new revelation. As we returned to Peru, six months after the accident, Susan and I determined in our hearts we would follow wherever the Lord led on this road. This book is a compilation of where we have been on that road, what he has taught us. I hope it can help some of you to join us in this rehabilitation of his Body, in preparing His bride for that big day.


One final note, The enemy doesn’t come to me at night anymore. That battle was won. But Susan still has flashbacks of the accident. They come at night, I hear her weeping. I know that cruel snake is there, hurting her. I hate him for that. But I know what a mighty warrior my Jesus is. I know he is fighting for her. I pray and tell her not to believe those lies.