My (rahter lengthy) testimony

[kahtar]

In The Beginning​

I came to know the Lord at the age of nine. I hadn't had much experience in the world at that point, but I was fairly happy with my life.
My parents decided it was a good summer to get the kids out of her hair for a while, so she sent us to a Summer Camp. Turns out it was a Baptist summer camp, and while there, we heard about the gospel.
My oldest sister had gone the week before me, and returned as I was leaving. I did not get a chance to talk with her about it much. During the week I was away, I had no idea what was taking place at home.
I attended an evening service at the camp, and the speaker convinced me that I was going to Hell unless I changed my ways. He told us how to do that, so I did it.
I knew right away that something had changed in me. I felt so clean and pure. Not that I had a lot of bad stuff in my life at that point, but I could sure tell the difference, and I was very happy about it and excited to tell everyone when I got home.
I did not know then that my life was changed forever. But I found out real quick when I got home. I came home to a battleground. It seems my mother did not approve of my sister's conversion, and she was attempting to extract it from her. It proved to be an experience that would later serve my sister well in live for the battles to come. She absolutely refused to give up her newfound faith.
Being only nine, I did not have the intestinal fortitude to stand up to my mother as my sister, and I figured out right off that silence was the best route in this situation.
Somehow even then, I knew I could not give it up under any circumstances, so rather than have to face the wrath my sister did, I kept silent.
It effectually placed a wedge in the family, a wall between myself and my mother, and life at home was never the same.
At twelve years of age, I was playing on the playground at school. I was off by myself, which was not unusual, as I was somewhat introverted.
Suddenly a 'voice' in my head interrupted my thoughts; "You shall be my servant." That's it. That's all there was. But it clearly was not my own mind telling me this, and I recognized that it came from Someone Else. And, I knew Who it was.
Yet, my twelve year old mind pictured me wearing a tuxedo and carrying a tray of tea in one hand. I was not exactly excited about what I saw in that mental image. I said "I don't want to be a servant."

I spent the first 15 years of my Christian life seeking what God could do for me, and generally only when I was in trouble, which was fairly often.
I began smoking at the age of nine, got drunk for the first time at eleven, began using things like paint and gas fumes, and eventually marijuana, speed, mescaline, LSD, and a few I wasn't sure about.
I had obtained some bottles of dye on day, and a friend of mine and I poured the stuff into bags, and began breathing in the fumes. Suddenly I was no longer sitting on the couch, but found myself zooming at an incredible rate down a dark and narrowing tube of some kind. At the end of the tube, a long ways away, I could see an orangish light. I knew I was in deep trouble. Faster and faster I went, but the tube continued to shrink in size. I was completely helpless. And I knew that orange light was not a good thing. Just before I got to the end of the tube and the orange light, I screamed out the name of 'Jesus!!!!".
Suddenly, my head popped out the end of the tube, and I found myself lying on the floor, in a cold sweat. I vowed at that point that I would never breathe fumes from anything again. And I kept that vow.
At age 22, I got married. Just before the wedding, I was in the back room behind the pulpit, getting ready. The preacher was there, my father, and the best man. I started to ask the preacher a question, but the moment I opened my mouth, I was suddenly hit with the remembrance of a dream I had when I was around twelve years old. In that dream, I saw a specific church, a specific preacher with name included, I saw the room behind the pulpit, and I heard myself ask a question of the preacher. Everything matched, right down to the preacher's name and the question I asked, or was going to. It shook me up more that the fact I was getting married.
Three years later, the Lord tapped me on the shoulder. I rededicated my life to Him, and the next 20 years I searched for and tried a number of things I could do for the Lord.

The Long Search​

I joined a country gospel music group called Country Sonshine, and traveled around eastern Colorado, Kansas, Nebraska, Missouri, Arkansas, Mississippi, and Tennessee playing gospel bluegrass and telling people about Jesus.
I had many marvelous experiences, and witnessed both the power of God and that of Satan in people's lives. But somehow, in all my doing, I did not find 'that thing' that I was called to do, and really did not have a clue how to find it.
But one thing inspired me. That was the study of God's Word, and God in a number of ways revealed some things in His Word that would forever settle the issue in my heart as to it's validity. With that came an ever-increasing desire to share those things with others.
The problem was, I did not really know how to express things in a way that would hold someone's attention or even arouse their curiosity. No one, it seemed, had any desire to learn anything, especially from me.
Later, I began sensing that God wanted me to go farther with Him, and I felt like attending a Bible College would be a good start. Unfortunately, I was promptly informed by my wife that she would NOT be a preacher's wife, and left me with the option of choosing her, or God. I did not want to lose her or our children, and could not bring myself to face the possibility. So I succumbed to her wishes, and instead attended a Junior College where I studied and received an A.S. in computer science.
Yet, my efforts were fruitless, as my wife left, taking our children with her. My whole purpose in being vanished before my eyes. And that was not enough, it seemed. A week later, my father went home to the Lord, taking with him my foundation and spiritual support.
I was set adrift, like a ship without a sail or rudder, tossed around every which way. I had no direction, no purpose, an unquenchable screaming pain in my heart. On top of that, I realized I had completely failed God, having turned my back upon Him to please my wife.
My son found living with me more desirable than with his mother, so after a while, I had him most of the time until he was grown. My daughter would come to visit a few weeks now and then. But it did not take long for them to grow up and become adults, and when they did, I suddenly found myself completely alone, with absolutely no purpose for my existence.

 

[kahtar]

Life Begins When You Lose It​

I learned a very valuable lesson about that time. A man without a purpose is a dead man.
I was just existing. Bills paid, kids gone, no wife, no life, no purpose, no direction. This is not a good place for any person to be. Except that without arriving at this place, I probably never would have found my real purpose.
I had come to the end of myself. There was nothing I wanted to do, nowhere I wanted to go. All my endeavors in life came to nothing, except for my children. My life, I felt, was done with. I just wanted to go home. I was tired of the pointless struggle. Unfortunately I was not entirely sure I would even get there.
I was attending a small church at that point, and struggling to find a way to get back to God if He would have me. Most at the church did not seem to have much hope for me either, and certainly there was no support or help there. There was rejection, condemnation, judgment, all those wonderful things that so many churches so readily supply.
But, they did allow me to go on a couple mission trips to Mexico. I discovered that I really enjoyed doing that. Helping out others less fortunate. I began to think maybe I should be doing that regularly. But, there was no support from the church. Tolerance of my presence seemed about all I could get from them, and even that was meager.
On my second trip to Juarez, there was another ministry that we joined with to do some work on a church near the dumps. There was a woman with them that seemed somehow drawn to me, but I was not drawn to her. She was blonde, Californian, and talked too much. Not my type at all. Besides, I had no interest in developing a relationship with another woman. Once was enough.
But somehow, we kept running into each other. A good while after our first encounter, I was on another journey to Mexico, down to Chihuahua, Parral and Santa Barbara. We stopped in Juarez on my return trip, and there was this woman again.
Then, when I returned and started attending my church again, she was there as well. We began seeing each other off and on, but I was really not interested, and found her to be more of a pest than anything. And we did not get along very well, actually.
I finally took a 3 month bike trip hoping to be rid of her. When I came back, she was still there. I avoided attending church, hoping she would just go away. She didn't.
At this point, I had come to the end. I wanted to go home. I finally called out to God one night, saying 'Lord, please just take me home. There is nothing left for me here. Please, unless there is something You want to do with me, then just take me home." There was no answer.
I continued working, at the time driving tour coaches, partially on a casino route, and partially cross country. One day I was in Cripple Creek, walking up the sidewalk to a free dinner awaiting me. Right there on the sidewalk, God spoke to me. He reminded me of my recent prayer, reminded me that He had not taken me home. He told me, basically, that if I was serious about giving my life to Him, then there was something He wanted me to do. And He told me what it was. He wanted me to marry that woman I had been trying so hard to avoid.
Well, I argued with Him about it. Surely there must be something besides that! I did not want to be married. I did not want to go through all the hassle of a relationship. And I did not want to be married to a blonde Californian. Besides, she was older than me.
God actually took the time to explain why He wanted me to do this. He was taking my offer seriously, and He planned to do some things through me, but I needed direction and stability in my life or I would never stay on course. He explained that this woman would be like a rudder on a ship to me, keeping me on course. Without her I would continue to move in circles, being capsized by every wave that came along.
I still argued. Over the next couple weeks, I thought long and hard about it, but there was nothing in me that wanted to do this.
Finally one day, I was again walking the sidewalks of Cripple Creek, and out of the blue, I hear "Stop and smell the Roses!" Now that doesn't seem to make a whole lot of sense, until you understand that her name is Rosie. I found myself laughing out loud, with people casting frowning looks at me. It was at that point that everything seemed to make sense to me.
Just a few weeks later, we were married. I had done the thing He wanted me to do. I was not in love, and I was no longer in my beloved mountains. It was very much like one of those arranged marriages where neither the bride or groom has any choice in the matter. Marriage arranged by the Father.

On the Narrow Road​

Over the next year, we learned to deal with each other. The only thing holding us together was a common desire to do what God wanted us to do, and for me the knowledge that my alternative was death and going home. A couple times, I actually left, intending to not come back.. Each time, after going a ways, I would hear the question "Where are you going?" The last time I did that, I knew without a doubt that had I continued, I would not have lived out the day. There was nothing else to do but turn around and go back, and deal with the issues.
On our honeymoon trip, we had gone to Farmington, New Mexico, and made a big circle taking in the Grand Canyon, Bryce Canyon, and Pagosa Springs. During that trip, God made it very apparent to both of us that this was the area He wanted us to go. He had work for us there. He did not elaborate about what work, though. But on that trip, we met a number of people that we would later be involved with.
A while after that, we took another trip to Pagosa Springs, to meet with a person we had met that first trip. This trip turned out to be a real turning point in my life.
As we began our journey, we made a 'pit stop' at a truck stop. While there, I observed a vehicle that looked just like my uncle's, and someone was changing a tire on it. Out of curiosity, I approached him, thinking perhaps my uncle was inside somewhere while his tire was getting fixed.
It was not my uncle's vehicle. It belonged to the man changing the tire. But we easily fell into conversation, which, if you knew me, just never happened. I did not easily fall into conversation with any human. Deer, birds, rabbits, yes. Humans? No.
Our conversation turned to what I was doing, and I explained we were on our way to Pagosa Springs, to visit a friend, and camp out. He responded "Well, watch out for the bear!"
He did not say 'bears', plural. That stuck with me. From learning about and playing with native American religions, this 'bear' had significant meaning to me. If he had said 'bears' I would not have had another thought about it. But he said 'bear'. Plains Indians often took names of creatures that possessed similar attributes. My nature was mostly like that of a deer, gentle and quiet for the most part, wary, quick to disappear. But there was another side to me, as there is all of us. That side was more like an angry, provoked bear. My stature had nothing to do with it. I am not a large person. But my temperament is very much like a Grizzly. Mess with me and you are likely to see my sudden wrath.
I understood my 'bear nature' as being my flesh, undesireable, something to overcome and keep tucked away out of sight. It had caused me problems in the past.
Looking back at that whole situation, I now believe the man fixing the tire to have been an angel, and his words were a warning of what was soon to come. For over the next 3 hours, God literally raked me over the coals. He began showing me things in my life that He found displeasing, and He let me know that NOW was the time to deal with it. So each time He showed me something, I would give it up to Him and repent. This went on and on. I had no idea there was so much 'stuff' in my life that needed to go. But go it did. By the time He was finished with me, I was exhausted.
Then, the next little while, He began speaking to both of us about the things He had for us in the near future. He was calling us to take up roots and leave our home, and go to a place that He would show us. He explained, in His own way, that we would be leading some of His children from bondage, showing them the way to the Promised Land.
As he spoke these things, I made the comment to my wife that all we needed now was a burning bush, and I would believe!
Just a short way down the road, about 15 minutes later, we were passed by a fire truck. We could see a bit of smoke on the horizon.
After a little while, we came up to the place. The fire truck was parked on the side of the road. We stopped.
The firemen were standing at the base of a tree. This tree was located in a meadow. The next nearest tree was a hundred yards away. There was green grass in the meadow, surrounding the tree. There was not a cloud in the sky. There was scorched area on the ground near the tree. The lower branches of the tree were green and full of life.
But the top of the tree was on fire. You could see the firemen scratching their heads trying to figure it out. As for me and my wife, we just looked at each other in absolute amazement. And then we started laughing. What an incredible sense of humor! There was absolutely no logical reason for the top of that tree to catch fire.
We realized at that point the seriousness of the things God had been speaking to us. When He makes a point, He does not leave room for doubt! And I began to see a new direction for my life. One of total dependence upon Him for direction and provision. One that was way beyond anything I could have come up with.
We continued up the road. We were nearing a pass. Once over the mountain, we would be in the region He was calling us to. There was a river flowing down the canyon near the road. As we drove, He suddenly spoke again, telling me to stop and be baptized in the river. Thinking He probably did not understand, I reminded God about the probable temperature of that water, seeing that it came directly from the snowfields on the mountain. He did not respond.
I stopped. I explained to my wife what I had to do. She laughed. I did not. But I did find a somewhat secluded place and get undressed. I went bravely into the water, dunked myself, and got out again before hypothermia set it. My entire body went numb. The only reason that water was not ice was because it was moving. I have no doubt that a thermometer would have said something like 10 below zero.
But, when God tells you to do a thing, you either do it, or find yourself in direct rebellion.
I realize now that up to that point, everything we experienced on that trip was preparation for our future call. Walking in God's calling requires a level of purity and faithfulness that I was not yet accustomed to. And that purity comes not from our own works, but by our obedience to God's works within us and His cleansing power.
We continued on our way, crossed the mountain, and a whole new world lay before us, the San Juan Basin. Pagosa Springs was at the bottom of the pass. I can see now that all of these events took place prior to our crossing over the mountain into the San Juan, and I believe that He was preparing us for our entry into the land to which He had called us, getting us spiritually ready to begin the task He had prepared.

 

[kahtar]

Simple Faith​

We did our visit, camped out, then returned home. On the way, as we began going back up the pass, the Lord spoke to me again. He now wanted me to go to the head waters of the San Juan River. Turns out there are actually two forks. We drove to one, but it was not the right one. So we went to the other. When we got up there, which required traversing a jeep road, narrow, rough, rock strewn, we stopped, and decided we would camp the night there. We got out and prepared camp. While doing that, the Lord spoke again, saying I should throw a 'rod' in the water, reminding me of the bitter waters of Marah which were made sweet when Moses cast in the rod.
"I don't have a staff, Lord."
"I will provide one. Go to the river."
I went. I walked up the river a ways. I stopped in one place and looked over the bank at the water about 10 feet below. There, in a little whirlpool, was a perfect staff! I climbed down and picked it up, and took it back to show my wife. It was part of a tree. All the bark was removed, as were the branches. It was about 7 feet long.
I took it back to the river, found a good place to toss it, prayed, and cast it into the water. The river was very muddy due to spring runoff. Some voice in the spirit realm began speaking of bitter waters made sweet, something about the Navajo, and the bitterness between them and the white man, the bitterness of years of alcoholism, abuse, rejection, and so forth. I could not clearly understand everything I was hearing. And I had no real idea of the purpose of casting in that staff. But looking back now, I understand that it was a 'prophetic act' regarding the things that I would be doing on the reservation, a beginning act and truly the start of our ministry on the reservation.
The San Juan River begins in the mountains above Pagosa Springs. From there is winds south a ways, then turns to the west. It flows right through Farmington, New Mexico, and becomes the border of the Navajo Nation there. Farther to the west it flows into the reservation, turning north at Shiprock. It flows from there into Utah, very near the Four Corners, and once again becomes the northern border of the Navajo Reservation. From there it turns west again, and winds it's way over to the Colorado River. It is a vital artery that supplies much needed water to the reservation. It's waters provide much of the sustenance of the northern portion of the reservation.
After that trip, we knew that we would be moving. It was very clear in our minds that God was calling us to that area, and that we would be involved somehow with the Navajo.
I liked the thought of working with Native Americans. A very small portion of my blood comes from them. But not the Navajo. My preference would have been the Lakota or Cheyenne. I understood their religious beliefs fairly well, and I had spent time with them in South Dakota. I found them to be tremendous people, and I 'fit in' with them somehow. But the Navajo I knew very little about, and what I knew of their religious beliefs I did not care much for. I felt rather uneasy about the prospect of working with them.
And the thought of moving to Farmington was another thing that I would not have chosen for myself. I am a mountain boy, used to high altitudes, cold temperatures, snow in the winter, groves of aspen and babbling brooks, dear, elk, bear, lions, coyotes, beaver. All of these were familiar to me. The desert I knew nothing of, and feared to a degree. I could survive indefinitely in the mountains. In the desert, I questioned making it two days.
Nevertheless, it was where God was calling us, and go we would. But we had to sell the house and property in Colorado first. As it turned out, that would take over a year, a year during which my wife and I learned to live with each other, love each other, and place our trust in God in spite of how things looked. We knew that when the house sold we would be moving. We did not know how tough things were going to be until that took place. It all came down to the wire, to the point where either God would have to let the property sell, or we would have to give up on the whole idea. That, of course, is when it sold.
When it finally did, we made the trip to Farmington to look for a new home. We found one, bought it, and moved. All the while, I had no job prospects, we had no income other than a small monthly payment to us on a second mortgage.

Small Beginnings​

We spent the next couple months getting the new house in order, making some needed repairs and remodels. Finally, we were settled. I looked for work, and we began asking God what He wanted us to do now that we had obeyed His call to come here. It was a while before He answered. In the mean time, we began attending a church that we had found on a previous visit. We knew it was the place we were supposed to attend.
Finally, I was walking the dog in the park behind our house, and came across a couple 'homeless' hung-over men laying on the grass. As I walked by, God's voice clearly came to me, saying "Feed them".
I returned home with the dog, and told Rosie about it. She put together some sandwiches, we prayed, asking God to give us a divine encounter if this is what He wanted us to do. Then we went out the back door.
Not more that 40 feet from our backyard gate were four people sitting in the shade of a tree. We approached them. They were all Navajo, and a couple were drinking. We asked them if they were hungry. All four said 'yes'. It had been a number of days since they had last eaten. We gave them some sandwiches, and sat down in the dirt with them and ate lunch with them. We talked and shared about Christ with them for about two hours. It was a marvelous experience. They were blessed that a couple 'anglos' would deign to sit in the dirt and eat with them, let alone give them food, and talk with them. We were blessed in that from somewhere within us came love and peace, and a sharing of the gospel of Jesus Christ, and that they so readily received it. We prayed with them, then returned to the house.
From that point, we began making sandwiches and taking them to the parks and bridges and sharing them with the people we found there. We quickly ran out of food. So we prayed, telling the Lord that if we were to continue this, we would need more food. Food came. Our church was aware of what we were doing by this time, and someone wanted to bless us with a little help. Now we had food.
We continued, but soon we began having trouble finding people to give the food to. We prayed, telling the Lord that if we were to continue this, we would need more people to give food to. Within a very short time we were getting calls from people who had called the church for assistance who in turn referred them to us. Once again, we found ourselves running out of food. Again we prayed, telling the Lord that if we were to continue this, we would need more food yet.
Just days later, a man who delivered sandwiches to the local stores contacted us, telling us about all the sandwiches he had to throw away each week. Sandwiches whose expiration dates had not yet arrived, but had to be pulled. He did not want to just throw all that food away. So, he began delivering them to us. Soon, we were handing out literally thousands of sandwiches to hundreds of people. All that because we were obedient and gave from our heart.
We were given the food pantry of the church. Through that, we came to know the people at Many Waters Mission, for they supplied part of the food for the church's pantry. It was not long before we were providing food for people not only in Farmington, but the surrounding towns as well, and even onto the Reservation. We delivered food boxes to those who had no transportation.
This experience transformed our understanding of God’s provision and our giving. We did not give out those sandwiches in the beginning because we wanted to receive thousands of sandwiches. Instead, our purpose was twofold, one, simply to be obedient to God’s direction, the other, an earnest desire to be a part of the advancement of God’s kingdom. We learned there the real meaning of ‘seek ye first the kingdom of God, and all these things shall be provided for you’.
I had previously understood that to mean that we were to continually seek after the kingdom of God in order to ‘find it’, but I realized through this that, in fact, the moment we accepted Christ as our Savior, we had ‘found’ the kindom, and no longer needed to search for it, and our righteousness was in Christ, Whom we had already found, and so we did not need to search for His righteousness, either.
Instead, we learned that our ‘seeking the kingdom’ had to do with seeking, striving to ‘advance’ His kingdom. We were to seek after the enlarging and advancement of God’s kingdom, and by giving out sandwiches, we were sharing the love of the kingdom, witnessing by word and action, and presenting the kingdom of God to those who were outside of it, with the hope that some might enter in.
And because we were seeking the kingdom first, and not seeking to fulfill the lusts of our flesh, He abundantly blessed us, providing ALL we needed to do what He called us to do at that time, and in addition to that, He provided all of our personal needs as well.
It boils down to two simple concepts: obedience, and seeking the kingdom.
In the midst of all this, our pastor officially recognized us before the congregation, as the operators of the food pantry, and blessed our labor, anointing us and 'sending us out'. Not too long after that, we met a Navajo pastor in Shiprock, who operates a D&A rehab, and began providing sandwiches there. He also anointed us, and blessed our activities on the Reservation, officially giving us 'permission' to work on the Reservation. We had no idea what impact this had in the spirit realm at that time.
Not long after that, Hector Torres of Hispanic International Ministries came to Farmington to minister in a church in Shiprock. His secretary was close friends with Rosie, and Rosie was an intercessor for H.I.M., and had gone on a trip to Turkey with Hector. He stayed at our home while in the area. While here, as an apostle, he also anointed us, blessed our work, and 'sent us out' to minister to the people on the Reservation.
So we were, in a very short time, 'confirmed' by the mouth of three. Nothing really changed much in the physical realm, but in the spirit realm there was nothing short of an uproar.
With each new step came greater authority in the spirit realm, but with it also came a greater spiritual battle. We were dealing with things on a daily basis that would have simply devastated us a year earlier. We were visited a number of times during the night by 'wandering spirits', probably attached to the transients that passed through the park behind our house. Some of them visited several times, to the point that we 'recognized' them.
One time, my mother and sister were visiting for a few days. The first night they were here, there was a Native American Festival going on in town. In the middle of the night, I was awakened with a 'vision' of a dark spirit, riding a dark horse. I had seen him several times, and by this time knew him to be a spirit of death. My response was something like 'Oh, it's you. Be gone in Jesus name!" I went back to sleep, not thinking any more about it. The next morning my mother was rather shaken by things she experienced during the night. What had become somewhat commonplace to us was rather overwhelming to her. The next night, my sister had similar experiences.
After our thrice anointing, things began to change for us. In the spirit, I understood that we had been faithful with the little thing we had been given to do. Now we would be given greater things. I was anxious to get started. But He did not say what we would be doing. I just knew that there were greater things ahead.
We received nothing more from the Lord for a while. I began to wonder if perhaps I had misunderstood. Through Many Waters Mission, I began learning about the great need for teachers on the Reservation. I thought perhaps this was the area that He was leading us to, but I could get no definite confirmation.
On the Reservation, there are over 600 churches. Most are very small, and consist primarily of family members. Most travel from one revival to another during the summer. Everywhere you go on the reservation during the summer months, there are signs pointing to a revival taking place. Evangelists come out of the woodwork and spend the summer going from place to place with their tents, and preaching the gospel, and collecting the people's money. This had become nothing short of a ritual, with nearly all the Navajo attending at least two or three of these each year. Many 'get saved' at these tent meetings. Many 'get saved' several times during the year. Then, in the winter, they return to their medicine men for healing and instruction in daily living.
Most never receive any more than the gospel message, and rarely is there any follow-up at all, so that for most, the salvation message is the extent of their Christian experience. The result is a whole bunch of people who are spiritually nothing more than sucklings cast out into the world to fend for themselves. They are very hungry for the Word, and for the real Christian life, but have no idea how to walk it. The only thing available to them is the medicine men, who charge for their services, and teach them to turn their backs on the 'white man's religion'.
Literally months went by, with me getting more and more unsatisfied with what we were doing. I did not really feel called to do the food ministry, and there was growing in my heart an unexplained desperation to be out on the rez working with the people there. But there seemed no way for it to happen.
As exciting as the food ministry had been, it just wasn't enough. I was not fulfilled. I asked God over and over, 'Is there nothing more? Is this it?' I really felt that God would at some point lead us onto the reservation, yet I dare not do anything but what God directed us to do, because I new the futility of that. Anything in our own power, or from our own will and desire, would not be blessed by God, and would ultimately cause us more problems than satisfaction. So I just continued praying, seeking, and kept on doing the last thing He directed us to do.

 

[kahtar]

Totah​

Farmington sits in the San Juan River Valley, and the river flows through the south side of town. But it is also where two other rivers join the San Juan, the Animas River, and the LaPlata River (translated they are St. John, Lost Souls, and Silver). So the area is known to the Navajo as Totah, which means, roughly, 'waters come together', or probably more accurately, 'many waters'.
West of Farmington about 20 miles is a 'town' called Waterflow, and it is the location of Many Waters Mission.
We began working a bit more with Many Waters Mission. We were invited to go on a mission venture with a YWAM group, since I had had a little experience in stucco (a very little), and they were getting ready to go stucco a person's house.
It sounded like fun. I would be showing the kids how to apply the stucco to the wall, a fairly simple task, but there are a few tricks that make the job a little easier.
Similar to what I was doing in Juarez, I found extreme pleasure in working with and helping the kids with their task., and was blessed with the joy and awe in the face of the one who owned the house.
We decided we'd like to do this more, and the mission was more than happy to have some help. In the process of the winter and following summer, we not only helped out with several goups, but began actually working for the mission, getting paid a small amount to do much of the paperwork and other various tasks. The income was sufficient so that I could quit my job and do this 'ministry' full time.
But still, I did not feel like I was doing what the Lord brought us down here for. I was sure there was more. All the while, the desire to work directly with the Navajo, and to teach them the Word, was growing to such a degree that I almost felt desperate to do that. Each time we visited a church on the reservation, I saw the need, and the hunger, of the people there.
Each summer a couple from Texas comes up, and spends the summer months at the mission, helping out with the groups, and teaching in the churches. That summer, she was teaching out at Teec Nos Pos, which is about 5 miles southwest of Four Corners.
Each August, they return to Texas, where they work and build up their savings for the next year. Knowing she would be leaving soon, and the Bible study would come to an end, she asked if I would like to take it over. I said I would like to, but I wanted to pray about it. Well, it didn't take much prayer.
I went to our pastor and spoke to him about it, since he was our 'spiritual authority', and I received his blessing and approval. The moment I left his office, in the spirit I heard 'What took you so long?'
I had to laugh again. All the while He had been putting this in my heart, and I was afraid to ask anyone about it. Soon as I did, it was approved, arranged, and I began teaching.
If you have never experienced finally finding and doing that 'one thing' that you are designed and prepared for, you are missing a tremendous experience.
Each week we made the 120 mile round trip to Teec, and taught them all the basics of the faith, salvation, water baptism, communion, the baptism of the Spirit and the gifts, intercession and spiritual warfare, praise and worship.
After about a year, the pastor was talking with us one day about his family, and explained to us what his 'clan name' was and what it means. His last name is Todacheeny, or correctly Todach'i'ni.
When he told us what that name means, I was suddenly taken back to the headwaters of the San Juan River, where I had thrown that staff in the water. His name means 'Bitter Water'. With a sudden rush, it all came clear, and I knew without a doubt that I was exactly where I was supposed to be, and doing what God had called us here to do.
He showed me that spiritually, I was that staff, that He was throwing into the San Juan, where it compassed the reservation. He tossed me into the San Juan, where I was to make the 'Bitter Water' sweet, that is, bring the sweetness of God's Word into their lives.
Interestingly, there is a place near Teec Nos Pos that is called Sweetwater. I suspect at some point I will be there also.
The Lord also showed me that because I love flowing water, He placed me in Farmington, where the rivers come together. He knows I love mountains, and Teec Nos Pos sits right at the foot of the Carrizo Mountains, which to me are like an oasis in the desert.
And, he knows my love for having lots of trees around me. Teec Nos Pos translated to English means, 'Trees all around', It was named that because , not only are there quite a few trees there, but there once was a place where a group of trees formed a circle.
He is such an amazing God!! He continues to amaze me with His provision, His humor, His attention to the tiniest detail. No wonder the angels around his throne cry out 'Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty!' I figure they can do that because they also are continually amazed by Him.

The Spiritual Battle​

The ‘Gift’
With each advancement we make, each step forward following God’s direction, we encounter greater battles.
After we had been teaching at Teec Nos Pos for a while, a man began attending on occasion, but he would always sit back away from the group and just listen, and he often had a glower on his face, as if he was angry at our presence.
Occasionally, I would sense a great deal of spiritual opposition when he would arrive, and I would see his dark countenance, and would silently come against whatever spirits he was carrying with him into our Bible Study.
One day, he arrived, and had a ‘gift’ for me. He had ‘found’ this item on the roadway, he said, and thought that I would like to see it. It was a handmade rattle, like ones used in ceremony.
I took it in my hand to look at it. I was promptly quietly informed by the pastor that often curses were attached to such things, and touching them or handling them would cause that curse to attach itself to me, thus rendering me sick, possibly even to death. He, and the rest of the group, were clearly worried.
As soon as I took it in my hand, I ‘knew’ there was something on it, for I could ‘feel’ it in my spirit. And after the pastor’s quiet warning, I quite loudly commanded whatever spirits were attached to it to flee, and broke the curses in Jesus’ Name, and deftly plopped it in the trash can.
This action was met with another dark glower from the ‘gift giver’, and he left. But over the next month or so, he ‘checked in’ to see how I was doing. I was supposed to be getting sick and maybe dying from having handled the thing, but we continued coming, continued teaching about Christ, and never experienced a day of sickness.
The man did not return to the study for a long time after that, but eventually, he began attending, and it was not long before he would actually sit around the table with the rest of us, and listen, and even started participating in the discussions.

Chanting in the Night
Our first venture to Cottonwood began as an exciting adventure. We were taking a group of young people out to do some projects and ministry to the locals.
They would be building a sheep pen, stuccoing a hogan, some general yardwork and cleanup of the area around the ‘house church’, and in the evenings they would have a cookout, to which the community was invited. They would do skits, mimes, and one-on-one fellowship and ministry.
It was a good trip, and this group left an impact upon the people there.
We were there for four days and three nights, camping. Late each night, Rosalie and I were awakened by intense spiritual warfare. In the spirit, I could sense the presence of a medicine man, or perhaps a ‘skinwalker’, and Navajo witch, on a nearby hill, and could almost hear him chanting, and the spirit realm was in turmoil.
The Blood of Jesus Christ has amazing power over the dark spirits and curses of the witches, and we were able to keep them at bay, but it made for long nights and tired days.
A year later, we were back at Cottonwood with another group of young people, doing more projects and ministry, this time for five nights. We were not bothered during the night for the first three nights, and I began to think that perhaps we had taught them a lesson the year before and that they decided to leave us along this time.
My thoughts were abruptly changed on the fourth night, when again I was awakened sometime after midnight, this time actually hearing chanting with my ears, and encountering spiritual opposition.
We learned the next day that there was a ceremony going on less than a mile from us, with many people in attendance, the ritual ceremonies going on late into the the night.

 

[kahtar]

Offering up the Sacrifice​

Teaching at Teec had become my passion. Working with the groups was good, fun, exciting at times, and stretched us a good bit. Camping for five days in the Arizona desert in July has a way of testing you.
But as much as we enjoyed that, our weekly Bible study at Teec Nos Pos was where I sensed God’s power flowing me. And, I cincerely believed that He was leading me into teaching in other places as well.
But then, rather suddenly, He took it away. The woman from Texas returned, and made her desire known that she wanted to teach, as that was her passion. I didn’t have a problem with her passion. I understood it. But the Lord tapped me on the shoulder, and informed me that I was to ‘give Teec’ back to her.
I had not yet begun teaching elsewhere, and I suddenly found myself sitting on the shelf, collecting dust. For three months. That which God had provided, and which brought me such great joy and satisfaction, through which God had moved mightiliy, was stripped away from me, and I was left with nothing at all.
It pained me . I gave it up, and with great joy and ferver, the woman took it back, and God did some amazing things through her at Teec.
My flesh wanted to resurrect, telling me I should feel sorry for myself, I should be gealous, I should feel frustration. I knew better. But the temptation to wallow in the mire was there.
For three months I groveled at home. I continued doing the work at the mission, continued taking groups out, and so forth, but for me there was no real joy.
I began a Bible study at our church. The handful that attended received the teaching well. Interestingly, each of them are also ministers in their own right. And God has blessed that to a degree.
But that fire I had become accustomed to, that welling up of the Holy Spirit from my very bowels, spilling out in power and passion, just was not there.
So I spent time in prayer, and study, and playing solitaire on the computer, feeling all the while that I was wasting time, not accomplishing anything, and perhaps God had become displeased with me somehow.
My only glimmer of hope during that time was that I knew the woman would be returning to Texas at the end of summer, and probably, if God allowed, I would again begin teaching at Teec.
Then we began a one-day-a-month Bible Study at Lukachukai. Our first study went fine, and I sensed God’s presence there. It was primarily an introductory type thing, but we discussed a few things. Mostly, I just wanted to know where they were, what their level of understanding was, what they needed to learn, what their questions were. So I did not prepare a study, per se. And that was probably the best thing I could have done, or not done.
Because I had nothing prepared, God was able to what He wanted, without my notes getting in the way. And I learned some things there.
Our next study, a month later, I sensed that the Lord again did not want me to prepare anything, but to just trust Him to provide the topics. I was obedient to the leading, and He was faithful to provide.
I was somewhat disappointed, however, because it seemed they had forgotten that we were coming, so only the pastor and his wife, and a daughter were there. But we did not let that hinder us.
As it turned out, the pastor had received some teaching from some other people from Las Vegas, and he was confused about some of what they were teaching. He did not understand it.
What they had taught was correct, but simply presented in a manner that was confusing to him. So I explained it in a way that he could understand.
He was so relieved, and excited, that he finally understood it! He was going to a revival meeting that very evening, where he had been trying to address this teaching, and he was so excited that he could now explain it to them! And, he further intended to present the information to his own congregation the next day, being Sunday.
So unwittingly, what I had taught to this little group that had forgotten I was coming, was, over the next 24 hours, taught to dozens of people.
What amazed me most, however, was how I could place my trust in God to provide even when I had not prepared, and in fact, was so much greater than anything I could have prepared
On the way home from that meeting, God reminded me about our food ministry in the beginning, how we were obedient, and then in our obedience He provided not only the food, but the people to receive it. He showed me how He was still doing that even now. He provided the people, He provided the ‘bread’ of His Word, which He gave to me to pass on to them. My only action was as a middle man, taking it from the hand of God and placing in the hand of the people.
About this time, the woman from Texas returned to her home there, but she had informed me that the people at Teec were asking if I was coming back, that they were anxious to have me back out there.
So the very next Wednesday, Rosalie and I returned to Teec. But our approach was, and is, a little different. I did not prepare a lesson!
I did write down about 3 scriptures which the Lord had spoken to both Rosalie and I. And they came in handy. For they just flowed right into place during the ‘study’. But it was all God-directed, and I relied entirely on Him to provide the topic and method of presentation.
This study was so much more than anything I had done or experienced before, I was stunned. The Holy Spirit literally permeated me, and stuff just came flowing out of me, and it was information that they were all needing, and receiving with intense interest. But, it was not all coming through me. I was merely incidental, for the Spirit also spoke through Rosalie, through our good friend Bessie, and a couple others.
They were a little concerned about ‘talking too much’ or getting too far away from my ‘lesson’. I explained to them that I did not have a prepared lesson for them to stray away from, and that they are God’s children, not mine, and it is His study, not mine, and that it did not matter to me who the Word came through. The only important thing was that God’s Word was being taught, and received.
I was still full of the Spirit when I went to bed. I had never experienced God’s power flowing through me to such an extent.
The next day, as I was studying, the Lord took me back over the last few months, and showed me where I had been. He showed me how the Bible study at Teec was like my ‘Isaac’, and that He had required me to offer it up in sacrifice, in which I had been obedient. (He didn’t really even point out all my internal grumbling about it). I was faithful, and gave it up. But He returned it to me, and the returned version was so much greater what it was in the beginning.

Today​

To date, we still work with the food pantry at our church, supplying food for it. It is now located in a store that belongs to the church, and the food boxes are handed out by those who attend the store.
We still teach at Teec Nos Pos every Wednesday. There is no end to what can be learned from the Word.
We are continuing coordinating and helping out with visiting groups at the mission, and I still do recordkeeping, the newsletter and the website for the mission. Additionally, I put out a pastor's newsletter each month that includes a short 'teaching' for the pastors.
Many Waters Mission helps or oversees about 25 churches on the reservation. They also provide pastor training, licensing and ordination, which I am now getting involved with.
I am now teching an adult Bible Study at our church, and we have begun a Bible Study at Lukachukai on day a month. It’s about a 300 mile round trip to Lukachukai during the winter months, because you cannot get over Buffalo Pass, with it’s 14% grades and switchbacks, during the winter, which means one must drive clear around the north end of the Carrizo Mountains and back south to Lukachukai.
We plan also to begin a weekly Bible Study at Cudei, which is much closer, only about a 40 minute drive. Time will tell on that one.
In the mean time, I am putting together some teaching videos, working with Harry Domingo, pastor at Twin Pines, who will be translating the teaching into Navajo, and also Daniel Smiley, who is a pastor in Cottonwood, Az, an excellent singer and pianist. He has agreed to allow some of his recorded music to be used as background music for the teaching videos.
Finishing the videos will enable all of the churches we work with to benefit from the teaching, enabling us to be at 25 churches at the same time. This will require the provision of televisions and DVD players for each of the churches, but I am confident that the Lord will provide those as well.