Category: Personal

A Jon Post

Well, we found a small internet cafe here in Rundu, a border town on the Namibia/Angola border and decided it was a good idea to go ahead and say we are still alive and doing well.

Tomorrow we cross the border into Angola. We first expected to get into Angola about 5 days ago but the people we are traveling with had some unexpected delays. The truck they are driving is having some problems and it’s been in and out of garages trying to get it ready for the punishing Angolan roads.

We’ve had peace and felt good about how we’ve traveled. The travel itself has actually been easier at the slower pace we’ve been going. Instead of 10-15 hour driving days we’ve been going in 3-5 hour days, though tomorrow we expect more like 15-17 hours on the road.

Please pray that I (Jon) am alert and safe for the long drive tomorrow and please pray that Layne stays comfortable and that she has peace for the drive. She’s had some stomach problems and the incredibly bumpy roads would be very hard on her if she still feels bad tomorrow.

Thank you so much Jessica Coffelt, Sarah Romano, Stephanie Prescott, Lassiter Family, Pete and Judy Prescott, and Obidiah Pinner for your help with the equipment we purchased for this trip. I want you all to know that we’ve actually been using it. I am always happy when I get to use stuff like that and we’ve already needed nearly all of it and will unquestionably use the rest as we continue on to Angola.

We are so indebted to you all for your prayer and love.

We continue to live enraptured by the Love of Christ and, as we go where it is less comfortable than before, we are glad to know Christ and the fellowship of sharing in His suffering.

A Jon Post

Sorry this post is a day after the weekend. We went to Lobatse, Botswana to spend some time with some good friends and watch the Superbowl. It’s about a 4 hour drive from where we are staying now and we think well worth the time we got to spend with the sweet Walker family.

We’re getting ready to start our (very) long drive to Angola this coming weekend. It seems like the days/weeks go by so fast and I often find myself trying to find the time to just remember. I heard a sermon recently, mostly focusing on communion, which stirred my heart about remembrance. When Layne and I went to Mozambique in December I had thought we would be waiting there for at least 4-6 months (again, at least) and maybe up to a year or more. We ended up spending just over 7 weeks in Mozambique and I ended up marveling at how much the Lord exceeded my expectations in those short 7 weeks.

With the life we’ve been living it’s been so easy to let myself simply move from one thing to the next as this whirlwind pushes us along. But I think it’s important, and I want to take the effort to remember the moments God stamped my heart, and the hearts of those around me, with His presence.

• Invitation to a Christmas party at the Hospital oncology ward. Layne smiling, touching, kissing faces. Me… laughing and getting to play my violin with a group of laughing, clapping people around.
• Meeting a man named Joaquim. Praying with him. Holding his hand. Saying goodbye. Hoping with him for eternity.
• Meeting a child named Jose Manuel. Hugging him, picking him up and swinging him around. Holding his hand as I walk the grounds of the hospital.
• Christmas with men and women in the oncology ward. Them, hundreds of miles away from their biological family. My wife and I, thousands of miles away from our biological family. All of us, finding that “Christmas with Family” can still be had in those circumstances.
• A phone message as I am driving to South Africa to meet with potential partners in ministry in Angola. Joaquim died last night.
• Hours of moving a satellite dish millimeters at a time until I find the “sweet spot” where we can pick up the reception to broadcast soccer games to thousands of people as a way to connect them to local churches planted in their villages.
• Watching with awe as my wife displays the sacrificial, unconditional love of God to a dying woman in the Hospital. I have never witnessed such beauty. I wish you all could have seen what I saw over three days of the torturous death of Emilia. Emilia crying out for her God to be with her, Layne whispering softly in her ear the name of Jesus while wiping a cool cloth on a sweaty, tear-streaked face. You would have been so proud. Emilia did not die alone. Love’s promise was fulfilled.
• Incredible family of Christ found in Jorge and Alice Pratos, missionaries from Portugal. We were welcomed and loved by them in so many ways. They introduced us to ministry at the hospital and entrusted us with making sure the soccer games were shown. Good, good friends.

There are so many more memories but those are the few that jump to my mind when I first start thinking about our time there over the last 2ish months. Thank you all so much for trusting us with ministry there.

We have applied at the Angolan Embassy here in South Africa for our visas and we are praying, praying, praying that they will be ready this coming Friday the 12^th. They told us to come back that day, however we have heard that they are prone to delaying those original dates.

I may have injured my shoulder in the showing of the final soccer game in Mozambique. It’s been bothering me since then and, as of the last few days, been getting a little worse. I had surgery on it 7 years ago because of an injury I got in Botswana that year. When you think of it, I’d ask that you pray that it heals back up. I’ve had some trouble with it of and on since the surgery. The doctors expected it and so did I but these past couple weeks have been a little more trouble than usual.

That’s all. I know this is long so I’ll just finish with a quick bulleted list of things we would ask you to partner with us in prayer.

• Visas to Angola process and are available by this Friday.
• Finances as we get ready to go to Angola and make some purchases in the preparation.
• Our vehicle would stay problem free and make the 10,000 kilometer round-trip drive from Maputo (Mozambique) to Luanda (Angola) to Maputo.
• My shoulder would heal up sooner rather than later. I can’t hug my wife very tight and I really like to hug my wife tight.
• My wife and I would draw close to each other in this stressful, highly active, trusting heavily on God season.

A Jon Post

When he was young, about the age I am now, he wanted to go. He even had a location he felt the Lord had put on his heart. China. He bought and read many books about missions in China, the Chinese culture, the Chinese language, all of them still in his library bookcase today. He was passionate. He was unafraid. He was going.

Father and Son

But the timing wasn’t right. He got married, he started a family, and he was VERY good at his engineering job. He went on a short trip to Taipei, but the long term vision changed.

I came along after a few years. Growing up under his love, care, and stern hand of discipline, there was nothing I wanted more than his approval and pride. I wanted to be a veterinarian; I wanted to be the President of the United States; I wanted to be a basketball player; I wanted him to tell me “Well Done”.

I was 14 and, for the first of many times, I went to Africa. I found something that grabbed me even more than all the others: I wanted to be a missionary in Africa. I went back 5 times over the next 6 years. I could feel the purpose and meaning in what I was doing. The Lord put something on my heart much like He did my father’s so many years ago.

My father was quick and faithful to show me how much approval and pride he had in my heart to go. I never doubted that he supported me completely.

In the purpose and meaning I found in being “a missionary”, I started wondering, “Why didn’t my dad do this?” I knew he had wanted to when he was younger. I just thought he had compromised on what the Lord had put on his heart. I let pride well up in my heart. I thought “Well, where my father failed I will succeed.” I even implied in conversations with him “Everyone should be like me! You should be going to China as a missionary!”

It’s been 13 years since I first went to Africa. I am married now and I’m doing what I set out to do. I’m “a missionary in Africa’.

Next step? Starting a family. My wife and I are planning to have children soon. I will be a Missionary Father.

Now, in my travels and my church experience I’ve noticed that children of missionaries tend to struggle mightily. We all know it’s true. Yes, there are some terrific successes in missionary parenting, but in general these kids are miserable people. Growing up as children of these “overseas missionaries” must be a very hard thing to do. As I look to become a missionary father I have started looking for ways to avoid some of the pitfalls that seem so common in my line of work.

I’ve talked to missionary parents about this and I’ve talked to missionary children about this. Both success stories and failure stories.

And I realized something.

I know what it means to be a missionary father.

I’ve always known what it means to be a missionary father.

I have always known what it means to be a missionary father.

I grew up with one.

His missionary heart never wavered. It never compromised in its strength or passion. He just realized what most “missionaries” never do.

His mission was me.

I know now what it means to be a missionary father: I am a missionary to my children. Everything else is just my 8-5 day job in comparison.

Ministry outside my home will never be as important as ministry in my home.

My father taught me that.

I’ll be a missionary father soon. I hope I make mine proud.