Monday, October 25, 2010

The story of Mario


Mario Rios is a dynamic, joyful university student who attends the UAGRM (Universidad Autónoma Gabriel René Moreno) state university in Santa Cruz, Bolivia. His major is modern languages. When we met last March, he shared how his father had recently passed away, leaving his mother in the small village Mario still calls home. The village is called Malca Mayu in the highland state of Potosi in Bolivia. The people of Malca Mayu speak Quechua and live a rural, agrarian life, though many have gone to the big cities of Bolivia and Argentina to earn a living.

His father was well-loved in his home village and the three neighboring villages. He was always smiling, and always willing to lend a hand. The people of the village see a lot of his father in Mario. His dad was a farmer and rose every day at 4 a.m. to provide for his family. Mario had nine brothers and sisters that lived to adulthood of whom seven are still living. Besides the nine, however, there were eight others who died young. He remembered his favorite little sister who died when she was four, of unknown causes. “She was already reading and the joy of our lives”, he explained. Hardship has always been part of their lives.

Soon after his father died, I gave Mario copy of the JESUS Film in Quechua. He kept hoping for a chance to take it home to the village, but finally sent it to his sister who still lives there. Last week he got the news that they had watched the film. His mother, sister, two aunts and two uncles all saw the film. The only word he has gotten back is that they “liked” the film, and really appreciated that they could see it in their own language. You have to know Mario to understand that “liking” the film isn’t good enough for him.

Mario received Christ as his Savior in 2005 and is excited about his faith. He shared how he preached on the bus when he went home for the funeral of his father. He is very bold with the Good News and wants to see his Quechua people reached with the Gospel. He tells of a certain coldness that the people have toward the Gospel. He says many are enmeshed in the traditions of the Catholic Church and the traditional indigenous worship of the Pachamama, the earth goddess.

In Bolivia funerals always take place on the morning following the death. If someone dies very early in the day, the funeral might take place later that same day. There is no embalming, and the thought of waiting several days, even for distant relatives to arrive, is abhorrent. They have another tradition that Mario shared with me. His eyes lit up as he told me that very often people will gather to spend an afternoon and evening together on the first anniversary of the death of a loved one. Someone as well-loved as Mario’s father, and with as many children, will have a big gathering of remembrance. People bring flowers and lay out the favorite foods of their loved one.

Mario is already thinking strategically (He actually said, “I have a strategic plan”) about this one year anniversary gathering in February, 2011. “If six people ‘liked’ the film, imagine a gathering of 70! With me there to share and encourage them to trust Christ as their Savior!” He is planning to make the trip in February with several more DVD’s of the JESUS Film to give away. He is trusting God that the remembrance of his father’s life will give him an opportunity to share about real life in JESUS!

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Friskie the tree climber

This morning I was in the kitchen when I heard a ruckus in the yard and saw a cloud of dust as both dogs took off after some alien intruder. I went outside and spotted the culprit up a tree:



Friskie decided that she should not remain earthbound and started up the tree:

About 10 seconds later, the kitty departed our yard and out under the gate.

Jeanie is pointing on the tree how far Friskie climbed (Friskie is still prowling for the cat):



Sunday, October 17, 2010

New life in the backyard

A couple of steps out our backdoor there is an arbor that for many months of the year is awash in flowers. This is the driest time of year and there are no flowers and the leaves are sparse. Through the twigs, though, you can see a mother and father bird guarding a nest. They hold stock-still as you approach. Here's a photo from a few feet away. Spring rains are coming.