Son of a carpenter

In the process of writing a brief history of how we came to know Christ and how we go to share Christ.

We were setting-up a dorm room under the church sanctuary in Chinchil. The walls were adobe brick which we were literally throwing mud at to parge coating to make smooth. It was one of the construction techniques I learned from my father, but he would not have had half the fun I had that day!

While growing up I remember my family hosting through exchange programs. Maria was a school teacher from France. Each country taught me something I could use in missions. Now I am the foreigner and a stranger on earth as well as a distant land.

I loved fishing. In spite of my small catch my father captured a future Mark 1:17 fisher of men.

My parents took my grandparents to Switzerland to visit the home country. They returned with stories that captivated my imagination. I began dreaming of living somewhere overseas someday.

While I was in Junior High, Waltred K. stayed with us from Germany. I enjoyed learning more German words through her visit.

This is one of a dozen houses my father built with my brother. Moving from Blumer Road to South Florida was not far enough South. If I go any further, I'll be back in Arctic weather.

Willie G. was a music teacher from Switzerland who was my favorite exchange person. He taught me how to yodel.

There are events in our lives which now I see are God's classroom. When I am asked what drew me to Peru I have to answer honestly, it wasn't an event like a lightning bolt; it was more like a lightning bug. It wasn't like a lighthouse beacon, it was like a small voice beckoning.