Bruce Howell: Herrin, Illinois

IO: Did you go to Bible College?

Bruce Howell: Gateway College of Evangelism

IO: Tell us about your family?

Bruce Howell: My wife, Diane, is from Jackson, Mississippi; and we met at Bible college. My son, Jared, and his wife, Loida, serve as the Youth President of the Louisiana District and work in Christian Life Center in Monroe, Louisiana. They have two daughters, Zoe (8) and Bella (2). My daughter, Leah Arrowood, and her husband, Andrew, pastor the Pentecostal Lighthouse in Van Nuys, California. They have a son, Zion (3), and Lucia (1). My daughter, Amy, is my executive assistant here in St. Louis and is working on her Master’s degree.

IO: What is your favorite food?

Bruce Howell: Pupusas (that is a Salvadorian food).

IO: If you could have dinner with one person that is alive today and that you have never met, who would it be?

Bruce Howell: The most recent convert in China.

IO: Who is your historical hero?

Bruce Howell: Abraham Lincoln.

IO: Do you have a hobby?

Bruce Howell: Gardening.

Inside Out: What is your favorite book?

Bruce Howell: The Bible.

IO: If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live?

Bruce Howell: El Salvador

IO: If someone wrote a biography of your life, what would be the title?

Bruce Howell: The Joy of Being Missionary.

IO: Has there ever been a time when you felt like you didn’t know God’s will?

Bruce Howell: How many times do you want me to tell you about? I just took one step at a time.

IO: Today’s youth are dealing with issues that no other generation has had to face; what do they need to survive?

Bruce Howell: They need the power of the Holy Ghost and a made-up mind.

IO: When did you first know you were called to become a missionary?

Bruce Howell: After my first trip to the mission field in 1977.

IO: Is it what you imagined?

Bruce Howell: My life as a missionary is the greatest experience on the face of the earth. While I am honored to be the general director of Foreign Missions and able to travel around the world, it can never compare to being in an adobe church in the middle of the country in El Salvador and seeing a brand new person repent and receive the Holy Ghost. It’s more than I ever imagined.

Scotty Slaydon: Born in Lake Charles, LA and raised in Lafayette, LA.

IO: Did you go to Bible College?

Scotty Slaydon: Yes, Jackson College of Ministries, but I don’t sing. J

IO: Did you go to Secular College?

Scotty Slaydon: Some—when I was ten I did one semester at the University of Louisiana Lafayette in their special summer program.

IO: Tell us about your family?

Scotty Slaydon: My wife’s name is Krista, and she is from Elyria, OH. My wife is very creative and artistic with music, painting and drawing; she also likes to target shoot and go camping. My daughter’s name is Abigail, and she was born in Chicago, IL. We were blessed to adopt her at birth. She plays the piano and likes gymnastics, Super Mario (Wii), fishing and camping.

IO: What is your favorite food?

Scotty Slaydon: Gumbo.

IO: If you could have dinner with one person that is alive today and that you have never met, who would it be?

Scotty Slaydon: Rush Limbaugh.

IO: Who is your historical hero?

Scotty Slaydon: George Washington.

IO: Do you have a hobby?

Scotty Slaydon: Shooting and hunting.

IO: What is your favorite book?

Scotty Slaydon: White Guilt (Shelby Steele).

IO: If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live?

Scotty Slaydon: El Salvador.

IO: If someone wrote a biography of your life, what would be the title?

Scotty Slaydon: A Common Man.

IO: Has there ever been a time when you felt like you didn’t know God’s will?

Scotty Slaydon: There have been many times; and even when I was completely sure of God’s will, there were still moments of doubt. When you hold fast to what you know in God through those doubts it simply makes you stronger in Him.

IO: Today’s youth are dealing with issues that no other generation has had to face; what do they need to survive?

Scotty Slaydon: 1. Consistency—in their relationship with God, in their relationships with others. Developing consistent spiritual habits is key to living successfully for God. Be real with God and those around you and develop genuine friendships with people; don’t simply make acquaintances. 2. Confidence—in knowing who they are in Christ. This confidence will help them achieve whatever God has asked them to do and allow them to overcome any obstacles put in their way.

IO: When did you first know you were called to become a missionary?

Scotty Slaydon: When I was seventeen I felt God directing me to the mission field.

IO: Is it what you imagined?

Scotty Slaydon: It has been an incredible journey and is better than I ever imagined.

Paul spoke wise words to the church in Ephesus when he admonished them—in Ephesians 5:15-16—to “See then that ye walk circumspectly, not as fools, but as wise, Redeeming the time, because the days are evil.” The Message paraphrase of the Bible brings even more clarity for us when it says, “So watch your step. Use your head. Make the most of every chance you get. These are desperate times!”

Indeed, these are desperate times, and time is one of our most valuable commodities. Every day God deposits within our lives a little more time. He expects us to be wise stewards of it and invest it for the purpose of the Kingdom. While it is a valuable commodity, it can also be one of the hardest for young people to fully appreciate its value.

To put it into perspective, here is what Dr. John Mannion had to say: “For the sake of making a calculation, let’s say that eternity is only eight million years long (although after eight million years eternity has only begun). Now, let’s say that you are given a long life and you live to be one hundred years old. Using these numbers, your life compared to eternity would only be a fraction of a second, or 1/30^th of a second. Your life would end before you could say, ‘ME.’ Our lives are here today and gone tomorrow.”

Talk about a sobering thought. The life you are now living will one day be remembered as 1/30^th of a second. That means that what you do with that 1/30^th of a second will determine what you are doing eight million years from now in your eternity. You must also keep in mind that what you do with your 1/30^th of a second could also have a great influence on how countless other people will spend their eternity.

The desire to have a doctrinally sound, spiritually strong Bible college in the state of Texas brought the ministers of the district into a specially-called conference in Bryan, Texas during 1961. After careful consideration of the need for such a school in which to train ministers and Christian workers, Texas Bible College was established by a unanimous vote. Endorsement of the Board of Christian Education of the United Pentecostal Church International was granted in September 1962. Texas Bible College began its operation with the enrollment of its pioneer class in January 1964.

History

Fred J. Foster was appointed president and served in that capacity from June 1963 until January 1970. Upon his resignation, James L. Kilgore was appointed and served as interim president from that date until June 1971. E. L. Holley became president in June 1971 and served until 1977, when he was elected superintendent of the Texas District. President Holley was succeeded by C. E. Lott, Sr., a member of the Board of Directors, who served for two years until June 1979. In September 1979, the Board of Directors appointed T. M. Jackson as president, who served until 1982. At that time, J. R. Ensey was appointed president. He remained until May 1996. James L. Kilgore was then appointed as interim president. At the 2002 District Conference in Lufkin, Texas, James E. Boatman was ratified as the president and served until May of 2005. B. A. Cooley was appointed and ratified as president at the 2005 District Conference and is presently serving.

In May 2002, the TBC campus was moved from Houston, Texas—its home for thirty-nine years—to the Texas District Campground in Lufkin, Texas. Plans for future expansion are being developed.

Guided by its original foundational principles, Texas Bible College has become a leader in the field of developing Apostolic preachers and dedicated workers for God’s great church.

Texas Bible College remains committed to ensuring that Apostolic young people with a call of God on their lives are given the tools, opportunities and experiences necessary to make their life count. TBC has been involved in this process since opening its doors in January of 1964. From that time until today thousands of young people have been transformed through their time at TBC.

The Texas Bible College Vision

The vision of Texas Bible College remains strong. “Truth–Excellence –Spirit” is more than a motto; it is the essence of thought in the TBC process of preparing men and women to serve their generation. Students with a strong desire to serve the Lord will appreciate the TBC commitment to equip them for ministry through academic excellence within the confines of an Apostolic atmosphere.

The Texas Bible College Faculty

The strength of TBC comes from the quality, dedication and leadership of the faculty. TBC instructors bring to their classrooms a depth of knowledge and ministerial experience that allows students to leave the sessions informed, inspired and ready to serve with confidence. The TBC faculty is a blend of full-time and adjunct members, bringing stability and variety to the student to maximize the learning process.

The Fields of Study and Curriculum

Texas Bible College offers courses of study in Theology, Christian Music, Christian Education, Missions and Religious Studies. A student can earn either a two-year Associate’s Degree or a four-year Bachelor’s Degree. The curriculum has been developed over the forty-five year history of the college. With the input of many instructors over the years, the courses have proven to be adequate and relevant. Freshman, sophomore, junior, and senior courses are being offered on campus. Correspondence courses are also available.

The Texas Bible College Campus

The sixty-acre TBC campus offers fresh air, security, beautiful and clean facilities. The student dormitories are located in the 33,000 square foot Ima Kilgore Hall. The music department classrooms and offices are located in two newly remodeled buildings on the northeast side of campus. The chapel and the library are located in the administrative/ cafeteria complex. New instruments, sound, recording and visual equipment, computers and furnishings have been brought into the chapel, music department, lecture halls, administrative offices and library. Dorm rooms are comfortable. Every effort possible is being made to beautify the campus and to supply students and staff with the necessary means to provide a quality education. The campus is the base of the conquest where students are trained to do the work of the Lord.

The Texas Bible College Concern

The challenge to reach our world with the gospel of Jesus Christ can only be achieved through evangelism and discipleship. TBC is concerned and diligently seeking to train and send workers into the harvest field. The dream of our founding fathers to establish truth in the hearts of future generations continues to be the primary concern of Texas Bible College.

The Choice is Yours

The choice of Texas Bible College as your place of development and study should be prayerfully considered. We hope that you will choose Texas Bible College. We will gladly assist you and answer any questions you may have. Texas Bible College is dedicated to your destiny and to you making the most of your 1/30^th of a second.

For further information, please visit our website, http://tbcnow.com/, or contact the main office at 936.633.7799 during regular business hours.

I observed the people in the airport come and go as they rushed to meet their family or catch the next flight. The words “you go” kept resounding in my head over and over as I watched. This was AYC’s theme for the entire trip, but at that moment it meant something more to me. I’ve always wanted to travel and show the love of God to the world, but there was always something more to it than just bringing food to the hungry and hugging little children. It was about giving back the blessings that God has given me. It was about loving the unlovable, accepting the unacceptable, and reaching the unreachable.

As the plane was taking off, I couldn’t help but feel as though I was leaving one world and thrusting myself into another one, one that was crippled but also strangely more beautiful because of its weakness. I desperately wanted to just see it for myself. I yearned for change—so much so that I even noticed a difference in the entire atmosphere when I stepped off of the plane in El Salvador. It wasn’t the weather—which was not that much different from the hot and humid weather I am used to in Louisiana—but stepping off the plane, I immediately felt like I was in a whole new world. There was more than just me.

I’ll never forget the bus ride to our hotel. There were three ministers’ wives sitting in the front of the bus, encouraging each other about trusting God and holding on to His promises regardless of life’s circumstances. I knew right then that I’d learn so much about ministry just by being around these amazing women of God. When we finally got to our hotel, everyone crashed into bed and passed out from exhaustion, but I just couldn’t sleep. I remember pacing back and forth in my hotel room at 4:00 AM, wondering who I would meet and what I would do with all my time there. I looked outside my window to see a lit-up city with a few wanderers roaming the streets. I kept my eyes glued to the window for about an hour, because I knew this was exactly where God wanted me to be, and I refused to go home unchanged.

The next day we went into one of the markets of San Salvador. The walls that lined the city streets were completely covered in graffiti, and there was not one building without coiled razor wire on the roof to protect it from thieves and gang members trying to get inside. On almost every corner, a guard or policeman with shotguns and ammunition belts stood guard. The market, when we finally got to see it from the inside, was overwhelming. People were everywhere selling food, clothes, trinkets, and so on. As we walked up and down the street, people came at us from every direction grabbing our arms and trying to get us to buy their products. They would just sit and swat the flies away from their faces and wait for the next person to come walking so they could rush up and beg for more business. I couldn’t help but notice the desperation in their eyes just to have a decent life.

The first church we went to was in Sonsonate. We had about a two-hour drive there, and it was our first chance to really see outside the city of San Salvador. I stared out the bus window, overwhelmed by the beauty of the land. Everything looked so full of life! The trees and grass were so green. Cliffs and mountains lined every distant horizon. The beautiful landscape was littered with tiny shacks held together by almost nothing. A tear fell down my cheek, because I couldn’t help but feel like I could somehow give these people more to live for. My heart broke at the thought of this the entire way to the church, but when I walked out of the bus and onto the street to see the sign “El Faro Iglesia Pentecostal Unida,” I felt like instead of giving, I was about to receive more than I could have ever given. “El Faro” means “The Lighthouse,” and you could feel there was something about the church people that served as a light for the people around them, especially for us. Children were playing and running in the streets, and they greeted us with such enthusiasm, hugging everyone and offering food and chairs. I couldn’t have felt more at home. When the songs started, everyone—young and old—jumped out of their seats and immediately started praising God with every ounce of energy in their bodies. They would sing about ten or fifteen songs and never stop the music once, but no one seemed to care. I had never seen so much passion. Later, at altar call, I went and shook an elder lady’s hand, and I’ll never forget how she pulled me in for a hug and kissed my neck saying over and over again, “Gracias, gracias.” There were people packed everywhere in the altar, kneeling calling out to God. I could barely walk through the front of the church without stepping over someone’s body. That night taught me more about worship and passion than all my years involved in American church.

We visited several churches in the next couple days, and they were all different yet all connected in some way. We were always offered food and treated with uncommon hospitality. Every person there seemed to have a true servant’s heart that is very rare in our American churches. They didn’t think of serving us as a duty or something they should be praised for; to them it was just their reasonable service. For instance, in a church in Centro Vida on a very hot Sunday morning, many people were getting baptized. An elderly lady was terrified to get in the water and started to panic, so a young lady from the church, without hesitation, jumped into the baptismal with her, and held her the whole time she was getting baptized to comfort her. Just moments before during service, this same girl and a few others got up on the stage to read scriptures and greet us. One of them said something to us in Spanish, and then in broken English said the words, “This is your church.” They had never seen us before in their lives, but we were welcomed just like we were lifelong friends. This same church opened up a health clinic and gave care to the sick for only five dollars. They didn’t think twice about the sacrifices of time and money they were giving, because they knew they were here to serve the needs of others. It was their purpose and mission, and every one of them was dedicated to that cause. Every time I would look into the sanctuary, no matter what time of day it was, there was always someone either praying or working and cleaning the building to make it look nice again after service. If we, as a blessed American nation, could grab hold of this selfless attitude, we could bring true revival to the world.

As well as going to city churches, we often went outside of the city into little villages where the people weren’t so fortunate even to have houses that stood on their own. Many of their houses had tin walls that were tied down to keep them from blowing in the wind. In one particular village, the church was rebuilding, because they ran out of space for all their people. I was amazed to see that they were having service in a building that had no windows, no doors, half a roof, and dirt floors. The platform was a wooden box decorated to fit right in the middle of the front of the church, and all the musicians were in one corner. And although the dirt floors were turned into mud because of the rainy season in El Salvador, when Brother Scotty Slaydon was finished preaching to the church in Spanish, almost the entire church ran to the front and fell on their faces before God. Their passion exceeded their need to be comfortable.

We went to one church just outside the city where there weren’t many people. During worship service, I noticed that the worship leader was particularly passionate. She was singing alone, but she was singing so intensely that veins in her forehead were starting to show, and her face was turning red. I was already in a state of admiration when Sister Krista Slaydon leaned over to us and told us that in 2002, a gang walked in the church and attacked and tied the pastor to a chair, then shot him in the roof of his mouth. She then pointed out that the lady leading worship was the same pastor’s daughter, the young man on the keyboard was his son, and the current pastor was his brother. Even after such a tragedy as this, his own family members took up the responsibility of nurturing and leading his church without any bitterness or remorse. This spoke volumes to me, because I know that if it were my father or my pastor, I would have a hard time accepting it so easily. Oh to have a passion like that!

One of the last churches we went to was at the end of a seven-mile hike up a mountain. Pastor Juan Carlos led us as a group up the same trek he made about four times a week. It took us about an hour and a half to walk the steady incline, but he insisted that it took him only twenty minutes each time if he was alone. It seemed like forever until we finally reached the little mountain church, but the smiling faces that were peering at us once we stepped into service made it worth the climb. They were hot and sweaty, and most of them carried a rag of some sort on their shoulders to wipe the pouring sweat off of their faces. We watched as Brother Bruce Howell preached to them, once more in Spanish, and at altar call he asked us to pray with the people that needed the Holy Ghost. I distinctly remember praying for a young girl about the age of fifteen or sixteen and trying to get her to understand the fullness of what the Holy Ghost means, but I couldn’t speak her language so I had to just pray for her in English in her ear. Despite the language barrier, I watched as she cried out in desperation with hot tears rolling down her cheeks. She didn’t know what I was trying to explain, but I know she felt the same power that I felt. After hiking down the mountain, I remember looking out the window, watching them wave as we drove off. At that moment, I knew the El Salvadorian people had stolen a big part of my heart.

At the last church we visited, a nine-year-old boy, Johann was sitting outside. I walked up to him, took a picture with him, and told him that Jesus loves him as best as I could with my terrible Spanish accent. He then latched on to me with a very strong grip, and he didn’t let me go for over an hour while service was going on. When I asked him where his father was, he told me very slowly that he didn’t have one. I just hugged him even more tightly and hoped that he could feel that his Heavenly Father was hugging him too. That moment changed my life!

I came back from El Salvador with lifelong friends, new role models in ministry, and memories that will last forever! However, I took something home with me that was even deeper than all of that. I came home knowing that the world goes beyond my needs and wants. My heart broke at the overwhelming thought of my selfishness, but it wasn’t the hot weather, or the long and tiring mountain hikes that changed me; it was the people’s spirits that showed such an intense passion for worship when they had almost nothing. They weren’t concerned so much with the politics, talent, or programs that we try so hard to produce here. They were simply in pursuit of something greater than themselves. They wanted nothing more than Jesus! There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about those people I left behind in El Salvador, and I may never see them again in this lifetime, but I will always be grateful for the chance they gave me to GO and be changed.

Life-altering.

As  I  recount  the  days,  there  were  countless  experiences  that  have  changed  my  life  forever.  Each  and  every  day  God  spoke  to  me  through  an  abundance  of  avenues,  showing  me  things  I  needed  to  learn to help me  change,  or  grow  in  my  life.

However,  one  particular  experience  has  stood  out  for  me  the  most,  and  it  occurred  in  a  church  with  half  of  a  roof, lawn  chair  seats,  a  floor  of  mud  and  dirt,  and  an  additional  congregation  of  insects  invading  constantly.  After  a  long bus  ride  that  brought  us  to  one  of  the  most  poverty-stricken  areas  we  had  seen  in  El  Salvador,  we  arrived  at  this church.

Filled  with  people,  this  service  was  one  of  the  best  attended  of  any  we’d  experienced  on  the  trip.  The  rows  of  seats were  full  of  people  desiring  to  hear  the  Word  of  the  Lord;  and  as  we  proceeded  to  cover  every  inch  of  our  bodies  in bug spray  and  wave  makeshift  fans  to  fight  against  the  sweltering  heat,  they  intently  listened  to  the  Word  of  God.

As  the  sermon  began  to  close,  a  lone,  elderly  man  made  his  way  to  the  front—before  an  altar  call  was  even  given—and threw  himself  on  the  ground  crying  out  to  God.    As  Brother  Slaydon  continued  to  speak,  the  people  came  out  in  droves, rushing  the  altar  and  falling  onto  their  knees  in  the  mud.  Hands,  feet,  knees  and  faces  covered  in  dirt,  dust,  and  mud, and  their  complete  focus  was  their  worship.

As  I  leaned  down  to  pray  with  a  young  lady,  adjusting  my  skirt  so  as  not  to  get  it  dirty,  I  realized  the  lesson  these people  were  preaching  to  me.  You  see,  we  went  to  El  Salvador  to  minister  to  people,  but  they  taught  me  more  than  I ever  could  have  expected.  These  people,  dressed  in  most  likely  their  best  clothes,  threw  themselves  into  the  mud  without even  a  thought  and  worshipped  their  God  without  abandon.

They  did  not  let  any  outside  force  effect  their  reaching  God  and  having  their  needs  met.  No  heat,  no  mud,  no pestilence was  going  to  keep  them  from  their  Creator.  And  it  was  in  that  moment  that  I  remembered  that  it was from  the  dust  I was created.

Because  these  people  physically  have  so  little,  they  have  nothing  to  hold  them  back.  They  have  no  personal  bubble  to protect  and  no  limits  to  how  they  will  worship  God.  Brokenness  is  a  daily  lifestyle,  because  they  truly  understand  that He  is  their  only  salvation.  He  is  everything.

I  sat  there  weeping  at  their  dirt  altar  and  thanking  God  for  showing  me  how  much  more  I  need  to  desire  Him;  how  I must  never  let  this  world,  or  society,  dictate  my  worship  and  how  I  need  to  be  more  desperate  for  His  touch.

My  God  is  a  God  who  answers  prayers,  and  this  church  proved  that  in  my  life  once  again.  I  left  El  Salvador  with  an altered  life,  an  altered  perception,  and  an  altered  hunger  for  my  Savior.

This  trip  was  full  of  twists  and  turns,  ups  and  downs,  tears  and  laughter.  There  were  conversations,  sermons, testimonies,  and  bus  rides  full  of  song  that  I  will  never  forget.  But,  above  all,  I  will  remember  a  mud-floored  church where  I  realized  how  much  I  need  my  Savior.

The Bible software program I use most frequently has nine different versions of the Scripture, including the King James. A Web site I use has an additional twenty versions. It’s interesting that if you search for Mark 16:15 in all of them, regardless of the modified phrasing, the one word common to all of them is the inescapable “go.” It is the same for Matthew 28:19. That two-letter word is ever present.

It is among the last words of Jesus to his disciples recorded by Matthew and Mark, and we cannot overlook the very specific instruction. “Go ye, therefore, and teach all nations” (Matthew 28:19) or “Go ye into all the world, and preach the Gospel to every creature” (Mark 16:15). Whichever you choose, the meaning is clear. We have been given a mandate to carry the Gospel to all nations, to every creature.

While Luke did not mention these specific words in his gospel, we find a third recording of these final words of Jesus in Acts 1:8. The specific “go” is not there, but the meaning is equally clear: “But ye shall receive power, after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you: and ye shall be witnesses unto me both in Jerusalem, and in all Judaea, and in Samaria, and unto the uttermost part of the earth.” What Jesus expects of every one of us is unmistakably clear. We are to go—and it is to all nations.  We are to teach, we are to preach, and it is to be the Gospel of Jesus Christ. It should be to every creature. It leaves no one out. As He came to seek and save, so must we go forth and do the same. 

By the example set forth in the Book of Acts, we learn that evangelism starts with the power of the Holy Ghost. “Ye shall receive power. . .ye shall be witnesses.” With that power comes an unmistakable and unquenchable desire to be His witnesses. While techniques and personalities may vary, the bottom line of “go” and “preach” remains the same. What part of “go” don’t we understand?

If you want to personalize this verse, try this: “I am called by Jesus Christ to be a witness for him in Jerusalem (substitute the name of your city), and in all Judea (your state), and in Samaria (the United States), and unto the uttermost part of the earth.” That, my friend, is the task that YOU have been given.

Obviously, we cannot all pack our bags and take off for “the uttermost.” The command “go” could possibly mean going next door. For someone reading this article, it could mean going to sit at a different table in your high school lunch room. For someone else it may mean visiting a home missions church in your state. For someone else, it may mean a missions trip to a metropolitan area of our country. For yet another, it could be that you are really supposed to pack your bags and take off for “the regions beyond.” No one but you and God know that for sure, but He has called you to go.

I have heard the statement, “The finger of God does not point where the hand of God cannot provide.” In this commandment to go comes the provision for not just physical needs like money for food and transportation for an overseas trip, but it also includes the promise that “you shall receive power after the Holy Ghost is come upon you” Acts 1:8. When you combine Holy Ghost power with God’s provision, you are in for the trip of a lifetime, whether it is a journey of less than a block or literally around the world.

This is all great, but what if you are a teenager? What if your call to go is really to go into the regions beyond and bring the Gospel message to the lost? How can you do it?

Decades ago, T. F. Tenney, as national Youth President, addressed the possibility of getting young people involved in world evangelism. He wanted young people to have “hands-on” experience on mission fields around the world. The program would benefit missionaries on the field by providing unique special assistance to them for crusades, personal evangelism, and other aspects of their work. It would benefit the young people involved by giving them the opportunity to participate in on-site missions work. The Apostolic Youth Corps was born and a program that has continued to grow and develop became one of the focal points of the General Youth Division.

 Mission Statement
Apostolic Youth Corps (AYC) will facilitate the pairing of ministry-minded Pentecostal youth and North American and international sites which need and/or desire evangelism assistance. AYC will provide evangelism opportunities within North America or international sites of various durations. AYC candidates will assist Foreign Missionaries, Home Missionaries, Campus Ministry International, Global Campus Ministries, Metro Evangelism, and/or Multi-Cultural ministry.”

The Apostolic Youth Corps offers you a unique opportunity during the summer of 2009 to be a part of any one of nine mission trips. Whether your burden is for Europe, Central America, Africa, North America, or the Far East, we have a long or short-term mission trip designed with you in mind. Visit the Web site www.apostolicyouthcorps.com. Pray about where the Lord would have you go. Complete the application. Raise your money. Pack your bags. You. Go.

A missionary’s kid is very special. I have often said and have been told that it takes a special person to grow up in a foreign country (no, we don’t ride the short bus). You see, missionary’s kids often have opportunities that other kids never have. Yes, it is a privilege to be a missionary’s kid. Regular kids don’t get to sit in traffic for two hours on the only highway in a metro city. Normal kids don’t get to bargain shop in a crowded outdoor market any day of the week. They don’t get to travel six hours into the mountains and meet people who are still part of native tribes. They don’t get to see dogs being barbequed on the side of the road. You see, regular kids couldn’t handle that.

Missionaries’ kids possess several qualities that regular kids lack. We have strong stomachs. We have fantastic acclimating skills. We are awesome at packing and moving. We are expert church-goers, thank you deputation. We can wear the same church outfit for weeks, and no one would ever know, because we are in a different church every night. We know what’s good at every chain restaurant because we are taken to them by loving pastors at least three different times in one week.

There’s strong. And then there’s MK strong.

MKs deal with some of the most unique situations. I remember one of the first times my dad preached out after we had moved to the Philippines for our first term. The church had a dirt floor and rough wooden benches for pews, and the pastor’s name was Tommy Epis. Epis in Filipino means “cockroach.” We were waiting for service to begin, and we watched as an elder in the church took the pastor’s car and ran to McDonalds to get our lunch for us—well over three hours before we would actually eat it. We enjoyed cold double cheeseburgers and watered down cokes that day. It was the very best they had to offer, and let me tell you that after a service as long as that, it was pretty much delicious.

That would be the first of many interesting experiences I had overseas. My most memorable moments on the field involved food. I love food. When you live in a foreign country you learn to appreciate even little things like hot dogs. For nearly four years I went without hot dogs. But you see, I am a MK, so I can do that and still survive.

I survived because I learned to enjoy many native treats like mammon—a rice flour cake that is just barely sweet; Nestle packaged ice cream treats (never eat or drink dairy products in a foreign country unless you know its pasteurized); Fudgee Bars—brownie-like treats with fudge in the middle; and banana-que—small bananas fried in oil with melted brown sugar on them. In many ways the food makes the country, and these are just some of my sweet favorites. The meat and potatoes—actually it’s meat and rice, but that is a whole other story.

Rice is the staple food in many Asian countries, and basically if you don’t have rice with your meal, it is not complete. A MK learns to love the staple foods in a country. We’re MKs, we can make ourselves like foods that regular people would find disgusting. However, there are still some lines that MKs do not cross.

Driving through the mountains where the Ifugao tribe resides in the Philippines, I was so excited because we were actually going home. I was tired and bored of seeing miles and miles of rice terraces. We passed through a little village that was literally built on the side of the road. The shacks were sandwiched together and looked as though they were made out of corrugated cardboard. A typical family who lives in a shack has the sleeping and eating rooms indoors with an outdoor kitchen and bathroom (pretty much anywhere one can find a spot). The kitchen consists of an open fire with a grate above it for roasting or barbequing or a pot suspended over the flames. As we rode down the mountain side and passed this little village, the driver suddenly stopped and everyone turned to stare. On the side of the road a family was preparing their lunch and dinner. A dog was split open on the barbeque grate, its intestines were spilling out, and its chopped-off head rested in the corner of the grate. Paws flopping in the breeze, the dog had had his day. Poor Spot. MKs do not eat dogs.

MKs see many odd things that regular people do not get the chance to see. We have the opportunity to be exposed to a different and often fascinatingly new culture. But it’s not all fun and games. It’s not all great times and happy moments. Sometimes there are tears of loneliness and isolation. Holidays can be sad when you think about your extended family enjoying each others’ company without you. Phone calls help, but nothing can really take the place of your favorite uncle’s chocolate cake.

MKs learn to handle separation. MKs are strong. We are strong because God empowered His chosen missionaries with the ability to make it through the tough times, and He gave us the fun and interesting moments to give us strength to carry on. Yes, I said it—us, we MKs—we are missionaries. We weren’t asked if we wanted to live in a strange place and eat bizarre food; our parents just packed us up and moved us. But we are chosen by God because He knows what we can handle. We are strong. There’s strong, and then there’s MK strong.