Visa!

Alright folks…The permit that is necessary for me to move, live, and work in the Fiji Islands has been approved!

Currently, Homes of Hope is waiting for the paperwork to be fully processed, and then they can pick it up for me. Thus, the only thing keeping me from leaving right now is the last of the funds I need to move, live, and work there.

Thanks for praying with me, and praise Jesus; He does all things.

Here. There. Everywhere...

I have just returned from a jog around the country this past month. From St. Louis and Town and Country, Missouri to visit West Hills Community Church…you guys are forever patient and welcoming. And you always give me AMAZING food! May I one day get to make you amazing hot dogs, or something equally lame because I can never be as good a cook as you all.

Then to visit South Carolina to hang with family and have a meeting or two…Man oh man, it’s like a sauna there.

Finally to Bass Lake, near Fresno, California to visit with my family at The Little Church in the Pines. And thanks to the generosity of Little Church I am about $600shy of my monthly monetary needs to live in Fiji.

Conceivably, dear friends, I can meet the necessary financial goals by the end of this month. I am thrilled to see what God will do.
I have to admit, a month ago, I was thinking I might be hanging around till next Spring before I could move to Fiji. Yet, it looks like God has different ideas and might have me there this Fall.

My efforts now are pressing forward to get the final $400 and to get my Visa, or “Permit to Work” in Fiji. I have already submitted all the necessary paperwork, and my partnership at Homes of Hope is waiting to pick it up for me.

Here’s some prayer request if you are so inclined to throw me at God in conversation:
Please pray for the final funds and permit to come through-I know it will in God’s time. So instead, just pray for me to be patient and diligent in the meantime :)

Pray that I remain submitted to God, seeking Him, at His feet.

Please, please, pleeeease PRAY for my youngest brother, Alex, a Marine, who at this moment is in the Middle East with his comrades in arms.

And, onward, here, there, and everywhere…

Sex Slave

Considering the work I want to do in the area of Sex Trafficking in the South Pacific, I find it odd that I have not yet seen the movie Taken (2008). I watched the film for the first time this past weekend.



In short, the film is about an American teen-aged girl who is kidnapped in Europe to be sold at auction as a sex slave. The girl’s father is able to find his daughter and her abductors. Daddy saves his little girl. Daddy meets out justice. Daddy saves the day. Great movie.


Overly dramatic in ways, the parallels to this film and what actually happen in our world are nonetheless stunning. Right this moment there is a young person somewhere who is forced into the furthest reaches of human depravity-she is treated as only a body, a number.
In this movie the happy ending was heralded with daddy’s arrival. Yet, the few true “happy endings” are of girls whose daddys never arrive in time. Her daddy never shows up.


Justice is that there is a Daddy, Abba God, who knows. He is in the pits with this girl, and to Him she is precocious beyond all creation. She has a name. And just as our God provides for me and my family, just as He puts food on your table and keeps you in clothing, He will provide for her.


I am glad. Time to work. May we take part in God’s portion that will bring Justice. May we never sit by when He calls us to change the world, one beloved person at a time.

Back in Business

Me and Mom


Well, it’s official as possible for the time being.
I am preparing for work in the Fiji Islands. For those of you who have been in touch with me, you have been aware, to some extent that I have been working my way towards moving to Fiji in order to do ministry with women and children. For those of you who are short on details, here’s the skinny:
Last summer I was gifted with the opportunity to visit a ministry near the capitol city, Suva, in Fiji. The ministry there is a residential community wherein several missionary families work to provide prevention and awareness, rescue, and rehabilitation to women and children rescued from sex trafficking. This ministry is Homes of Hope.
Homes of Hope and I put our heads together to see if I could have a role and fill a place there, in Fiji. The resounding answer: Yes. So, after praying all last fall, I came to a point of readiness in February, and I started moving forward.
With some prayer and God’s timing in the bag, I will be looking at moving to Fiji late this summer or next fall. What I have to do now is build my support base back up. Last year, when I made the decision for a year-long hiatus after my dad’s death, most of my financial supporters went on hiatus with me at my request. Now I need to get everyone back on board so I can be financially stable while living in Fiji.

…Okay, there are all the dry details. What really is going on in my head…

I do not think I could have imagined this past year.
To go from Nigeria, to a sudden trip home due to my dad’s unexpected death, living with the reality of life without him, and knowledge that nothing will ever be as it was. One might think that you get over such feelings. Sure, the ache eases, and I smile, and joy fills the day, and there is light. Oh, what light. But just last night, I found myself brushing my teeth, and I wandered into my parents’ adjoining closet. I’ve been in there a lot, maybe because I can still smell my dad in this one place. Their closet has changed shape these past months due to the fact that my mom has begun to pack my dad’s clothes away to give to a local charity. Yet, in this one moment, as I brushed my teeth, it was not the emptied side that made my heart stutter. For a moment, for one moment, I heard my dad’s voice. Not clear, like he was actually speaking, but I heard the memory of it. How it penetrated and resonated, how it soothed because it was constant and represented safety. For that split second, as the carpet was in jeopardy of tooth-paste-drool, I was devastated because the memory of my dad’s voice will fade. And one day I will not remember it, I fear. So I live and laugh, and sometimes I ache.

So, from home last spring to whirlwind excursions to Fiji in June and July and August. Then Jury Duty in the fall. What a hoot that was, and how much fun to be a part of a four-month long trial. I do have a new appreciation for the verbal dexterity of lawyers. I mean, wow.
Now, here I am in April, simply excited. While I treasured the past year at home, I am ready to go, to run, to race, ready to continue the adventure.

Hey!
Changes are coming!
Stay tuned...

Trust. In. HIM.

Hello my dear friends.

I made a commitment to my supporters (financial supporters, prayer supporters, encouragers, and otherwise) almost 6 months ago that I would do my utmost to keep you informed and up to date with my mission movements. Thus, I apologize for my lack of communication this past month.

However, I know most of you, and I know many of you well; I know you do not begrudge me this time of peace and healing. While I love my God, while I trust in Him, while the dawn of a new day brings my mother and brothers and myself rays of hope, we are yet wounded.

Allow me to tell you the story. I realize several of you may be unaware of the death in my family, and many of you are unaware of the circumstances surrounding this death and my abrupt and unplanned departure from Nigeria nearly a month ago.
On March 7th, 2009 my parents were sitting in church together partaking of the Saturday evening service. My dad had just completed giving a message to nearly 400 children and their parents on Hope at the monthly Family Experience (FX) show, a program put on by a cast of dedicated individuals from my Sun Valley Church Family.
Mom and Dad sat together in church. The music of praise to our God had just ended, and the congregation was taking communion as the first of 379 individuals prepared to be baptized during that particular weekend service. My mother and father took communion together, and not 30 seconds later my dad breathed his last and joined his God in Heaven.

About five hours later and 8 time-zones away I woke up to the most devastating of calls. I desperately wanted to be home with my mom and brothers, yet I never wanted to be so far away as I was then. I could go on for hours about the next several days. I could tell you about the miracles of God getting me home in 3 and ½ days. I could tell you about the love of a church family that grieved with me and mine and loved us in complete ferocity. I could tell you about the heartbreak and broken dreams. But I will not.

I must tell you about my Good God. My heart weeps at this moment as I bask in the love my God has lavished upon me. Not once…NOT ONCE through this process have I felt alone. From the moment my world changed to this very day I have been cradled on the lap of my Almighty Father in Heaven. He has let me weep and dried my tears and loved me. Never have I been so aware of my God’s love than during this time of sorrow. Never have I been so aware of homecoming and LIFE, for the reality of my dad’s death is this: From partaking in a paltry representation of incredible sacrifice, communion, a symbol of Christ’s love and sacrifice-Jesus’ flesh broken and blood poured out so that you and I might have life in Him- my dad went to kneeling in awe at the feet of His LORD and Savior. Do you see? He went from drinking some grape juice and eating a cracker to the ecstasy of being in the presence of God. I miss him, but, oh, my daddy at 51 had a life well lived…and I believe his work continues as he exists in the totality and love of our Great God.

As for me and my family, we believe in God and His goodness, for He has told us to Trust In HIM. So we will. While weeping may tarry for the night, we know joy comes with the dawn. We miss dad, but our dawn has come. God has come.



These two pieces below are the obituary I wrote and eulogy I gave at my dad’s Life Celebration service. I hope they give you a picture of the man he was,
the man he is.

Obituary
Jerry Wayne Robinson
Jerry Wayne Robinson, beloved husband and father, passed away on March 7, 2009 he was 51 years old. Jerry was born on August 15, 1957 in St. Louis, Missouri. He is survived by his wife of 33 years, Deb Robinson of Gilbert, his daughter, Katherine Robinson, three sons, Jake Robinson, Peter Robinson, and Alex Robinson, his father, Jerry F. Robinson, and two brothers, Tom and Marty Robinson. After service in the military, Jerry worked as an engineer for 24 years. Jerry's first love was always his God and his family. His life demonstrated a love for people and service to them. Generous of heart, Jerry was quick to help those who needed it. He loved his church family and found his second home there at Sun Valley Community Church. Known for his sense of humor and love for people, Jerry is missed, but his family and church remain secure in his love and belief in his Savior, Jesus Christ. His family knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that in Christ they will one day be reunited. Memorial Services will be held on Saturday, March 14, 2009 at Sun Valley Community Church, 465 East Ray Road, Gilbert, AZ at 11:00 a.m.


Eulogy
Most of you know my dad.
You know my dad as someone who loves church, as a man with a ready smile and quick hand to help. You know my dad as a prankster, someone with myriad jokes-jokes often offered at inappropriate times. You know my dad, and you enjoyed him. Loved him. But we kids want to share how we knew my dad.
Second to being a child of God, my dad was a husband. Dad loved his wife with a fervor that belies the 33 years they have been blessed with. Great and grand is my dad’s heart, and great and grand is the love my parents shared. If you’ve watched my dad with my mom you have seen his care of her, his care for her. Dad was enamored with Mom.
My brothers and myself have grown into adults seeing their love, and during these last few years, their love was especially sweet. We have watched them, listened to them, and we now, all four of us, yearn for the love they have had. I pray that my brothers and myself might be blessed to have the love they have had for as long as they have had each other…Husbands, wives, love each other. This is one of the greatest gifts you can give your children.
Third, after being a child of God and husband, my dad was a father. Through the times when dad was stern, mad, in a bad mood…we NEVER doubted his love. Emulating God’s love for His children, my dad loved us ardently. Never an absent father, dad was involved, consistent, supportive, strict, happy. My dad laughed with us. He is proud of us; in life we remember beautiful moments where dad let us know in simple words and with simple touches how proud of us he was…how he found such pleasure in us. I believe our God has welcomed my dad into His arms with a whispered, “Well done, my good and faithful servant”-and in a thousand ways my dad has looked at us, his children, and while with us he has said with but a glance, well done my sons. Well done my daughter. Keep going.
My dad’s legacy to his children, and his grand children one day are these:
-An inheritance of living for God. Christ is our LORD and Savior.
-Honor and integrity-dad oozed this.
-Love. It ruled his life.
-Warrior-fierce of nature and tender of heart, my dad was our hero.
We don’t say these things to be poignant or to make you weep. We don’t say them for pity. I say them because we four kids and my mom love my dad, and we celebrate who God made him, the child of God, the husband, the father, the friend, the servant.
Sun Valley, on behalf of myself and my brothers and my mother, we thank you. Thank you for your quick love, grand support- this is a love and service that befits a church seeking after God’s heart. Specifically from my brother Jake, we thank you for your help.
To God be the glory, my friends. We are blessed this day. Chase after God. Each breath is precious and on loan. Love your family and friends, and love the God who belongs to you if you would have Him.
And I leave you with this verse that has brought my mother and myself such comfort:
Zephaniah 3:17-The LORD your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing.

First Impressions

Here are some of my first impressions of Gembu, Nigeria.

1) Dusty. Really, really dusty. Here, everything is covered in a thick layer of red clay dust that does not come off, even with vigorous cleaning. In fact, when I shaved my legs the other night (Yes, I know, TMI…you’ll live), along with my leg hair, I shaved off a layer of this dust. Guess I’ll be clean when I get home.

2) Full of life. While Gembu is a moderate size town of 80,000 (Including surrounding villages that extend several miles out through the valley), it is a town teeming with life. Clay houses, close markets with vendors, and lots of ripe smelling bodies (My friends, the B.O. is beyond belief! You get used to it though).

3) Loud. Long before the sun rises around 6:15, Gembu is awake and beginning its day. I reside in a house at the end of town, near a jungle of eucalyptus trees. However, in front of the house is a busy road where cattle and goats are herded by boy-shepherds. Every morning the children from the village walk along this road carrying pails and bowls on their heads, trooping to the stream at the bottom of the Gembu valley. Here, the children fill their containers with brown water and carry it back on their heads to their huts (It’s some serious balance, folks. I can’t even walk and chew gum). Along the way, the children chatter and sing, banging on their containers. And if this does not wake me, the mullahs do. Around 4:45 every morning the mosques in the village come to life with the prayers of the Muslim mullahs (teachers). Over loud speakers, they chant the morning prayers and fill Gembu with their sound. It is quite beautiful, except for the fact that I’d love to get another hour of sleep.

4) Slow. The pace is slow. The only people who are in a hurry for anything or to anywhere are the white men-all three of us :) .

5) Broken. Naturally, I was prepared for the destitution, but the poverty is surreal. Yet, it is the lack of hope in the eyes of some that really make my heart ache. On Friday I was working in the pharmacy of Gembu’s health clinic (FDA, look out!) taking inventory of the Anti Retro Viral drugs when a young women, perhaps 20, came in having just found out she is HIV positive. The pharmacist that I was working with proceeded to walk her through the process of taking her many medicines-a horrendous task considering the fact that these people do not often have more than one meal a day, no clean water, and have no concept of time except for sunrise and sunset; now she must regulate drugs that are taken 8 times a day, and often on an empty stomach. The countenance of this woman was that of embarrassment, fear, and hopelessness. She has no father or mother, lives with her neighbors because her brothers do not have the room for her in their homes, and now she will never have the opportunity for marriage. In her eyes, her life as she knows it has no future. My heart broke. All I wanted to do was walk over, embrace this woman, dry her tears, and tell her how precious she is in the sight of our LORD. Then a thought occurred to me, and I prayed, “Father, if my heart is weeping for this girl, what must Yours feel like, since I know you love her more than I ever could?”
She may not know it yet, but there is hope. Great hope. The greatest hope. Her life has meaning. I pray that she discovers the love the Father has for her before she dies-oh, how enamored our God is with her!

I feel as if I can go on, and on; and these are only my first thoughts. Hope you enjoyed a taste of Nigeria, friends. I do believe I am falling in love.