What am I Going to Stop? A good Sabbath Day Question (number 1)

Recently, we stayed in a home where the Saturday evening meal was served with an unusual "menu."

As the food was being passed around the table, each of us responded to four questions. It was a real challenge to think through the intention of Sabbath rest and how we would keep it. Each person, young and old, came up with different answers. I want to talk about these four questions, starting today and going through January. 

The first question was, (the one for today is) "What am I going to stop as I keep the Sabbath?" 

Behind the question is the Biblical principle of taking a day of rest. Each one of us can find ways to rest from the activities of the week. Amazingly, what may be demanding for one person can be restful for another! Consider this: what is "work" for a writer, as is my case, might be a restful activity for the mother of a young child. She rarely gets to sit down to write a note or read a book, so she would not think of the same answer I would give.

Rather than delve into all the layers and legalities of what constitutes "work" and how to cease from it for a day, the question put to us as we enjoyed delicious food that evening caused me to think: How do I stop and rest for a day? For many moons, I've laid aside creative writing and anything to do with business on Sundays. So, when I asked, "What am I going to stop?" the answer was easy. 

(Combined with the other three questions, which I'll mention later, I found this to greatly enhance my enjoyment of the Sabbath day. Many choose Saturday for their Sabbath; I love keeping Sunday as a day of rest and worship.)

And I enjoy the results! Come Monday morning, I continually find I enjoy new ideas, greater energy, and increased resolution. I'm thankful for Sabbath rest. Now, may I ask you to repeat the same question:

"This Sabbath, what am I going to stop?" 

A prayer for Covid-19 situations from Rwanda for other countries

 Heavenly Father,

We praise you that we can be at peace with all of the uncertainty and unexpected events we experienced in 2020, knowing that this year of 2021 is in your loving hands.

We pray for the Rwandan Baptist churches, which have been closed to all activities since mid-March because of COVID-19. With many strict protocols to follow, this has meant that only about 20 of the 200 churches have been able to open again. As a result, there has been little opportunity to give spiritual encouragement to the congregations during a challenging time. It has meant no income for pastors or the denomination. We pray that you would continue to provide for them.

Even beyond the issues surrounding COVID-19, we continue to pray for all of CBM’s partners in Africa – in Kenya, South Sudan, the Democratic Republic of Congo and Rwanda – as they deal with many challenges and heartaches we seldom experience in Canada. Thank you for their example of deep faith and trust in you in the midst of those struggles.

We also pray for those who manage the different projects that CBM supports worldwide as they try their best to put together plans for this new year. We pray for wisdom and flexibility as they adjust to ever-changing realities.

We praise God for all the people who gave through CBM’s Hopeful Gifts for Change Catalogue.  May they experience the blessing of God, which comes through the generosity of heart, as people they don’t even know are being impacted in wonderful ways because of their gifts.

Having served with CBM for 18.5 years, Lord, we know that it never gets easier being separated from family, even as we move from one life stage to another. We continue to pray for strength and wisdom as we navigate our current stage.

Looking back on 2020, we are grateful for a good home assignment, which allowed us to connect with many churches and supporters and have extended time with family during a critical period.  At the same time, we are also thankful that we can be back here in Kigali, serving alongside our Rwandan brothers and sisters.  It is a wonderful thing to be a part of your worldwide family!

We pray all this in Jesus’ name, Amen.

Darrell and Laura Lee Bustin

The Bustins joined CBM in 2002 to teach at the Kalimantan Theological Seminary in Pontianak, Indonesia, where they helped to train and mentor future leaders for the local church. They moved to Rwanda in August 2012 to work with CBM’s church partner, the Association of Baptist Churches of Rwanda. 

Darrell’s primary focus is involved in pastoral training and church leadership development. He works both with pastors, as well as those studying to be pastors and church leaders. Laura Lee is responsible for overseeing the administrative details for the short-term mission (SENT) teams that come to Rwanda. 

Darrell is from Moncton, New Brunswick. Laura Lee is from Pugwash, Nova Scotia. After attending CBM’s Conference on Overseas Ministries in January 2002, Darrell and Laura Lee felt that God was saying “now is the time” to move toward fulfilling the call to overseas ministry that both have felt since childhood. The Bustins have two children, Bronwyn and Caleb, who are both studying in Canada. 

"The One who brings Good News"

 

The Hebrew language has a wonderful word. "M'vaser" means "one who brings good news." 

That is what Jesus Christ, Jeshua Messiah, Isa Mesih, Jesus Cristo did. He brought us good news. He came for people who needed him and brought news to those perishing in body, soul, or spirit. 

Psalm 126:5-6 indicates the task is not always easy. "Those who go forth in tears shall reap joy. He who continually goes forth weeping, bearing seed for sowing, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing. He will come bringing his sheaves with him."

Why the weeping? Because any farmer knows how hard the first part of the harvest is. First, there is the breaking up of the hard soil, digging the right depth, planting the seed, caring for the field, chasing away the birds, and cleaning the field of weeds. 

Do you know a farmer who gives up before harvest time?

But for the M'vaser, there is great joy. Prayer helps us prepare our speech. Intercession breaks down the fallow ground in our hearts. Tears mark the deep divisions we often hide from others, even our family and friends. But there's a promise, folks!

The M'vaser will rejoice with sheaves in his or her arms. May the Lord bless you as you think this year of where you will be sowing the good seed!

Mary's Impossible Task

 Mary Slessor, an intrepid pioneer, left Scotland to work tirelessly in Southern Nigeria. A single woman, she found a way to bring change to tribes where twins were considered a curse. She taught by example, continuing to take in unwanted children. She continued her work among the tribes, teaching God's word and compassion for families, especially women. She was instrumental in ending the practice of the poison bean, which was used to find an accused person guilty or innocent. If the person lived, it meant that he was innocent. Women found a greater sense of dignity. She taught the value of hard work and helped men establish trade with larger towns, bringing prosperity to rural areas. She established the Hope Wardell Trade Institute. Mary Slesser was frequently found sitting between angry chiefs who had long-standing disputes. During these sessions, she knitted and prayed to keep herself calm. For her successful work, Britain made her Counsel and gave her a significant role within the legal system. She continued her activity among Africans until her death on January 13th, 1915, at age 66. Her body was transported to Creek Town, where the uneducated former mill worker was awarded the equivalent of a state funeral. Today she is remembered in Africa and her native Scotland for the hope she brought to hundreds of lives. 

Mary Slessor's life's work was bound up in her constant prayer, one that would be good for all of us to assume at the beginning of this year: "Lord, the task is impossible for me, but not for thee. Lead the way, and I will follow."

Watch the free 30-minute movie from Revelation Media, free until January 31st.

https://www.revelationmedia.com/TLMaryS/RM16469/

What is "Blue"? Speaking and understanding the meaning behind the words.

 

Living in Canada, we used to hear the phrase, "I'm feeling blue." Or, we listened to "blues" music.

Then we went to Brazil and learned a delightful phrase, "Tudo azul!" (Literally, "Everything's blue!)

In North America, and for those speaking English, "blue" has the connotation of feeling downcast, feeling moody, not knowing what's ahead, or harkening back to something, or someone, or some time when things were better than right now.

But Brazilians, Portuguese, Angolans, and those in Mozambique know that "Tudo azul" is a most optimistic phrase. As in: "The sky is blue, and everything is going to be fine!" Or, "I just bought a used car, and boy did I ever get a great deal!" Or, "I sat down for my university entrance exams, and I'm positive that I passed with flying colors!"

How can a color represent such opposite meanings? Well, words convey cultural meanings, much as a cloudy sky carries water hidden in the atmosphere. You can't see what's there, but you have a good idea of how others interpret things. You can even forecast the weather (sometimes)!

Coming into 2021, we need to make a decision, not a "New Year's Resolution."--There's a phrase that can be unpacked with as many layers of tears as a freshly harvested onion! -- It's a commitment to live lovingly. It's so necessary is to speak words that build others up, but so easy to tear down another person through a quick, unkind comment. Let's think about the words we use and what we mean in the hidden layers of our speech. 

Or, as Colossians 4:6 puts it -- with a ton of hidden meanings within the meaning of "salt" -- "Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone." Tudo azul!

"Great Gain"

 

"Great gain!"

That's our family word for the year. 

As in, "Godliness with contentment is great gain."     1 Timothy 6:6. 

In 2020, our family's word was "Joy," and we found the joy of the Lord throughout the most difficult of days.

In 2019, our family's word was "Holy," and we perceived God's holiness in many ways. 

"Lord, Help us to be content with what we have, the health you send our way, the difficulties we will face, and in the midst of every event, may we seek first the Kingdom of God. Teach us that great gain is not measured by what we can count in the bank account, or the number of friends. May we learn from our Saviour who every day was able to teach others your ways to others." 

Starting a Business during a Pan-Demic

What astounding changes! The year 2020 brought unexpected shifts to every family. Health care workers, government budgets, and politicians forever seemed to be catching up to events as Covid-19 silently and invisibly spread sinister small spikes, triggering suffering and grief.

Before the end of the year, the digital world had zoomed itself into a preeminent position. Students study at home, slumping on couches, sandwiched between homework, social media, and songs sanctioned if listened to in a regular classroom. Working mothers at home bounce between work assignments and their young children’s demands for attention. Scientists’ sleepless nights supplied statistics that resulted in new vaccines, even as increasing opposition to vaccinations became a concern to health officials.

In February, I completed the banking requirements to sell books in the USA. My company, Century One Chronicles, was launched. In March, I uploaded my first novel onto Amazon, expecting that before the end of April, I would organize book-signing events in May and June.

But you know what happened! Plans to gather with friends were tossed from Windows 10. I entered the digital world—big time-for me. 

Century One Chronicles is a business that generally would demand face-to-face contact to show my books to interested persons.

Now, as we come to the last days of December, 

I have a Century One Chronicles store on Shopify.

I am organized to sell books on Facebook, eBay, Amazon, and Instagram. I aim to help other writers publish and get their books circulating without going through the demanding steep learning curve needed when forming a digital store.

Truth be told, I would far sooner write a 400-page historical novel with complex characters than face the daunting task of managing the radio buttons on Amazon’s Seller Central and other programs. After weeks of attempting to set things up on Amazon, I am still struggling to connect all the moving parts.

However, I fell blessed. Elizabeth, my daughter, has helped me set up Shopify, my digital shop. I feel like a baby just learning to crawl; such is the gap between my present knowledge of the digital world with its thousands of websites and my limited skill base.

I’m blessed to have the continuing help of three persons. A great illustrator, Dusan Arsenic, lives in Serbia, and he does fantastic things with his digital brushes. He has created the first three book covers and will continue with the next books. Jerry Whittaker is my primary editor, enhancing the story-line and making helpful suggestions. Daphne Parsekian is my final copy editor. Many people read pre-published copies of my novels. I see the Lord’s gracious hand in helping me connect with so many who have helped me at every step of the way.

Two books appeared online as e-Books and paperbacks and are being circulated:

Through the Fire: A Chronicle of Pergamum, Heartbeats of Courage, Book One, in April, and

Never Enough Gold: A Chronicle of Sardis, Heartbeats of Courage, Book Two, in November.

In 2021, Lord Willing, I have three more volumes ready to publish, and in 2022, the last two novels in the series of the Seven Churches of the Revelation.

Thanks for being a prayer partner in this enterprise. I hope to send the proceeds from the sale of these books to help widows and orphan children who need to learn to read in four of the developing countries.

Warmest regards on these chilly winter mornings! Love and prayers for the joy of it all, David 

A cold, delayed December funeral

The early December afternoon showed a cold face as we arrived at the cemetery. A chilly wind blew from the west, and the spacious parking lot was empty. A small gathering showed people standing close together down one of the hills but not touching each other—another funeral.

We waited in our car. Five minutes later, a blue Toyota came beside us. This was my first view of the lady who phoned me two days ago. She had come with her two daughters. She waved at me, and I motioned, indicating that I would follow their car to the site of the newly covered grave.

We followed the three mourners to the grave, recently closed and now covered high with colorful plastic flowers of every description. The light-brown earth was covered beneath an abundance of flowers. Many people loved this man who passed away before he could experience a mid-life crisis. But he had been buried without so much as a prayer.

The mother-in-law asked me two days ago to read three passages: Psalm 23, I Corinthians 13, and Revelation 21. I asked them where they wanted to stand, and they took their place at the foot of the grave. My wife stood with them. Normally, internment would be accompanied by a hug or something spontaneous like a kind word matched by a loving gesture. But this is the world made fearful by Covid-19. Even though the man died from a kidney problem, we are constantly impacted by the fear of spreading it or getting the disease.

As I led this unexpected service to commit the body to the grave and his spirit to the Lord, many things passed through my mind. After only a few minutes in the open air under a cloudless sky, the gusty wind had us all shivering. Moved by emotion, I proclaimed the Gospel in simple terms. I gulped for air and caught my breath as I imagined the beautiful young widow who has returned to her home for the last 32 days, struggling to bring up two young teens.

And in between so many other thoughts, I returned to a growing awareness. Many of us have been commenting on this common thread: During a time of a public health crisis, the power of the Gospel has not been curtailed. Last night on a zoom call, we heard people saying they are praying more and reflecting more on the path their lives are taking. This morning, on another zoom meeting, we received repeated words of comfort, songs, news of creative ministries of feeding the poor in our area, the beginning of a read-through of the Book of John, and opportunities for sharing and receiving prayers. And this delayed funeral, requested by an unknown widow for her widowed daughter, is one more evidence that the Lord is with us, always the same, yesterday, today, and forever.

And more than that, we returned home having made three new friends. There was something very warming in the early winter winds of December.

An Unexpected Phone Call

 

The cell phone rings just as I park the car in front of a multi-story building. Few things in life are as difficult as the sudden news of a person dying. It's all so opposite from the entrance of life, coming through the long, slow, welcome swelling of a mother's stomach that promises a new life. A birth brings the joy of family members gathered around, the sudden laugher, and sometimes tears of overwhelming emotion, like touching the soft, smooth skin of a healthy newborn.

Tears at the time of death are so different. They hide many complex emotions. A mother grieves for her son, who has passed prematurely. She stumbles from the memories of the past to the agony of her daughter, who now is a single mother. She tells me of the man, whom I had never met. He leaves a young daughter and a son, two years younger.

Her daughter is grieving and upset and unable to sleep, but she is now the family's breadwinner. The boy attempts to shrug off his pain. When she asked, "How are you?" he answers his grandmother, "I'm fine." Nothing more. We all know he's not fine, but where is the key to open this lovely young boy's heart so that he can share the pain and loss of his dad. Who has that key hidden away?

The phone call came while driving, while we were delivering Christmas cheer. My wife has made several batches of her famous granola, the breakfast I never get tired of eating. We are delivering bottles to many people we've come to know in our community over the previous two years, up until when the Gathering Place had to shut down like everything else during the Covid-19 crisis. And I'm speaking with a grieving mother.

Inside the building, my wife is passing a Christmas gift into the hands of a lovely young woman from Africa. She saw family members being brutally killed in a war no one knows about or wants to hear of. It seems that no one in our land has time to hear about Africans having been killed in uprisings. In this case, over one million persons. We have enough of death here. I can't imagine the anguish resulting from a complete breakdown of governments. A million people, actually far more than that...my mind goes numb. I can't imagine the faces or any details.

But I can imagine a widow's pain. This phone call brings me close to a woman who has experienced too much in her life. Those of her husband and two children were too many deaths, infants who left short memories before being laid to rest in the black earth. For half an hour, I listen and ask a few questions, and gradually the story comes out of her son-in-law's sickness. Her questions never stop. "Should we have done this? Could we have done more?"

And the dreaded questions and doubts gradually shed more light on the situation as trust is built over the invisible network of radio signals between her phone and mine. "There were no prayers. No Bible reading. Just dust sprinkled over his feet. Will he be judged by God because the ashes were not sprinkled on the casket over his head? I shared with my son-in-law how he could come to know God, to kneel beside his bed and ask for forgiveness for his sins."

Details flow out, sadness filling the space between us, the love and comfort of the Holy Spirit beginning to flow as a tiny stream of peace that will bind us, who until half an hour ago, were strangers. Now we are sharing deeply, thanking the Lord for the common friend who wanted her to phone me.

A rush of holy awe overwhelms me. The mystery of faith. The conviction of eternal life. The welcome invasion into my time table, my schedule open to His leading, to His call to share and minister. And we begin to think of what a funeral might look like under the circumstances. My wife closes the door, having delivered words of comfort and the best granola on this side of excellence. Tomorrow we'll plan the funeral, wondering how to celebrate a life taken away after a year of declining health.

The Comfort of Prayers

The early December afternoon showed a cold face as we arrived at the cemetery. A chilly wind blew from the west, and the spacious parking lot was empty. A small gathering showed people standing close together down one of the hills but not touching each other—another funeral. 

We waited in our car. Five minutes later, a blue Toyota came beside us. This was my first view of the lady who phoned me two days ago. She had come with her two daughters. She waved at me, and I motioned, indicating that I would follow their car to the site of the newly covered grave. 

We followed the three mourners to the grave, recently closed and now covered high with colorful plastic flowers of every description. The light-brown earth was covered beneath an abundance of flowers. Many people loved this man who passed away before he could experience a mid-life crisis. But he had been buried without so much as a prayer.

The mother-in-law asked me two days ago to read three passages: Psalm 23, I Corinthians 13, and Revelation 21. I asked them where they wanted to stand, and they took their place at the foot of the grave. My wife stood with them. Normally, an internment would be accompanied by a hug or something spontaneous like a kind word matched by a loving gesture. But this is the world made fearful by Covid-19. Even though the man died from a kidney problem, we are constantly impacted by the fear of spreading it or getting the disease. 

As I led this unexpected service to commit the body to the grave and his spirit to the Lord, many things passed through my mind. After only a few minutes in the open air under a cloudless sky, the gusty wind had us all shivering. Moved by emotion, I proclaimed the Gospel in simple terms. I gulped for air and caught my breath as I imagined the beautiful young widow who has returned to her home for the last 32 days, struggling to bring up two young teens. 

And in between so many other thoughts, I returned to a growing awareness. Many of us have been commenting on this common thread: During a time of a public health crisis, the power of the Gospel has not been curtailed. Last night on a zoom call, we heard people saying they are praying more and reflecting more on the path their lives are taking. This morning, on another zoom meeting, we received repeated words of comfort, songs, news of creative ministries of feeding the poor in our area, the beginning of a read-through of the Book of John, and opportunities for sharing and receiving prayers. And this delayed funeral, requested by an unknown widow for her widowed daughter, is one more evidence that the Lord is with us, always the same, yesterday, today, and forever. 

And more than that, we returned home having made three new friends. There was something very warming in the early winter winds of December. 

Nation at Prayer

 

Living the Power of God's Presence

“When will this be over?” - one of those simple yet impossible questions asked of a politician in a recent media scrum. Obviously surprised by the question that is on everyone’s mind, his immediate response was “Only God knows!” In that short answer is the profound truth that the challenges facing elected representatives at this time are so far beyond human capability and limitation that only God does know and beyond that, only God has the wisdom and the power to meet and overcome every challenge. For over 17 years now, Nation At Prayer continues to witness the impact when the Holy Spirit infuses the lives of elected representatives and the lives of those who lift them in prayer. Refreshing winds of the Holy Spirit are blowing across the nation and around the globe in amazing ways. It is our great privilege and joy to witness and be in the midst. Today is an opportunity for you to share in this exceptional time of ministry: as we continue to actively engage and pray with politicians at every level as the Lord continues to open new initiatives with Indigenous leaders  as we witness a deepening of faith and expressed need for God’s presence and power by politicians at every level as we witness the expanding numbers of those responding to the call to pray for the Lord’s Power and Presence in the lives of elected leaders and nations as the necessity to gather virtually has led to our involvement in innovative and powerful events for worship and prayer for our nation and for the world as we engage in exciting initiatives uniting the full body of believers across the nation and around the globe as the Lord extends our global reach   As we live to the full the truth that “the light shines in the darkness and the darkness can never extinguish it” (John 1:5 NLT) may the Lord’s transforming Presence and Power infuse you this Christmas season. Thanks to Mel and Sue Finlay for this letter and their ongoing, amazing work in Ottawa, and across our nation, bringing us to pray together with Christians who believe God is at work in Canada!

When Death Comes Knocking

The cell phone rings just as I park the car in front of a multi-story building. Few things in life are as difficult as the sudden news of a person dying. It's all so opposite from the entrance of life, coming through the long, slow, welcome swelling of a mother's stomach that promises a new life. A birth brings the joy of family members gathered around, the sudden laugher, and sometimes tears of overwhelming emotion, like touching the soft smooth skin of a healthy newborn.

Tears at the time of death are so different. They hide many complex emotions. A mother grieves for her son, who has passed prematurely. She stumbles from the memories of the past to the agony of her daughter, who now is a single mother. She tells me of the man, whom I had never met. He leaves a young daughter and a son, two years younger. 

Her daughter is grieving and upset and unable to sleep, but she is now the family's breadwinner. The boy attempts to shrug off his pain. When she asked, "How are you?" he answers his grandmother, "I'm fine." Nothing more. We all know he's not fine, but where is the key to open this lovely young boy's heart so that he can share the pain and loss of his dad. Who has that key hidden away?

The phone call came while driving, while we were delivering Christmas cheer. My wife has made several batches of her famous granola, the breakfast I never get tired of eating. We are delivering bottles to many people we've come to know in our community over the previous two years, up until when the Gathering Place had to shut down like everything else during the Covid-19 crisis. And I'm speaking with a grieving mother. 

Inside the building, my wife is passing a Christmas gift into the hands of a lovely young woman from Africa. She saw family members being brutally killed in a war no one knows about or wants to hear of. It seems that no one in our land has time to hear about Africans having been killed in uprisings. In this case, over one million persons. We have enough of death here. I can't imagine the anguish resulting from a complete breakdown of governments. A million people, actually far more than that...my mind goes numb. I can't imagine the faces or any details.

But I can imagine a widow's pain. This phone call brings me close to a woman who has experienced too much in her life. Those of her husband and two children were too many deaths, infants who left short memories before being laid to rest in the black earth. For half an hour, I listen and ask a few questions, and gradually the story comes out of her son-in-law's sickness. Her questions never stop. "Should we have done this? Could we have done more?"

And the dreaded questions and doubts gradually shed more light on the situation as trust is built over the invisible network of radio signals between her phone and mine. "There were no prayers. No Bible reading. Just dust sprinkled over his feet. Will he be judged by God because the ashes were not sprinkled on the casket over his head? I shared with my son-in-law how he could come to know God, to kneel beside his bed and ask for forgiveness for his sins." 

Details flow out, sadness filling the space between us, the love and comfort of the Holy Spirit beginning to flow as a tiny stream of peace that will bind us, who until half an hour ago, were strangers. Now we are sharing deeply, thanking the Lord for the common friend who wanted her to phone me. 

A rush of holy awe overwhelms me. The mystery of faith. The conviction of eternal life. The welcome invasion into my time table, my schedule open to His leading, to His call to share and minister. And we begin to think of what a funeral might look like under the circumstances. My wife closes the door, having delivered words of comfort and the best granola this side of excellence. Tomorrow we'll plan the funeral, wondering how to celebrate a life taken away after a year of declining health. 

Standing Together While Physically Apart

The Coronavirus Covid-19 has caused us to think aloud about a truth we don't often dwell on. Our normal tendency is to think locally, not globally. However, this health crisis is forcing us to reconsider the nature of human interactions across national boundaries. This is precious. We are not alone. Our actions in one place can influence the health of others far away. That's how the virus spread from China to Italy, the USA, and every country globally. 

Jesus Christ, the Messiah, is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Thanks be to God! We come from many traditions. The Bible teaches us that there is "One Lord, one faith, one body..." With our eyes, we cannot see the Church how the Lord sees it through time and space. We often disagree, and sometimes these disagreements throughout history have turned violent. Nevertheless, your church is part of a wider body of believers. 

Roman Catholics are grouped in the largest body of believers in the world. The Orthodox churches are next in size. Anglican churches also baptize infants. Both these churches count men and women, boys and girls, all those baptized at birth, which is different from "Believers' churches." 

The next largest grouping is found in those churches organized around New Testament principles, in which adults are baptized members. The Baptist World Alliance is one grouping that brings believers together. The BWA is found in every country. In a year with unprecedented disruptions, God’s global mission is unchanging, as is the BWA mission.

 Despite isolation and separation, the Baptist movement worldwide has found ways to stand together, creatively adapting, compassionately caring, and continuing to minister throughout this year. These three examples represent hundreds, no thousands, of ways Christians have been sharing with one another.

 

• In Mexico, Baptists partnered to send medicine to rural areas with limited healthcare.

• In the Democratic Republic of Congo, Baptists purchased their first radio airtime to broadcast messages of help and hope in Christ.

• In Bangladesh, Baptists built public hand-washing stations outside of their churches in areas where up to 25 families share a single water tap.

 

You are a key part of this global missional movement. In fact, you helped financially empower every one of these ministries. If you represent another group of Christians, be thankful for the worldwide body of believers through whom you can fellowship and worship our Lord.