Rick, Ellis, Deanna, Olivia, Bella, Paul, Anni, Lucy, John (Tim’s brother), Tim, and Chris Wiens (a former missionary with us in Altamira).
Bella and Emma painted the scenes on the Muddy Waters Café — and 18 other store windows in Harrison and Agassiz, plus more across nearby communities.
Fitting In vs Not Fitting In
In Canada, we blend in.
For most of our girls’ growing-up years, that wasn’t true. We stood out everywhere we went, and there were days we longed for a break from being the different family.
A few days ago, we found ourselves reminiscing about Christmases in the Amazon — the marginalized neighbourhoods, the contradictions, the hardship around us and the haven of joy inside our home. Those memories reminded us why healthy churches matter so deeply. They are little sandboxes of grace, places where people can practice becoming who God created them to be.
Army-Crawling Toward a Family Christmas
A Family Reflection
Hiding the Joy
In Brazil, people don’t knock on doors. They clap. Three sharp claps — and you know someone’s waiting outside.
Some days, especially Christmas morning, we dreaded that sound.
By Christmas Eve, we were exhausted from church events, pageants, baking, and being the “fun house” for half the neighbourhood. We decided Christmas Day would be just for us — a few quiet hours before the world pressed back in.
The girls remember our strategy.
Presents were opened quickly and hidden in back rooms. When the clapping started, we froze. Sometimes we literally army-crawled past the windows so no one would see movement inside. We’d wait — five minutes, ten, however long it took for the visitors to give up — and then whisper, “Okay. Back to Christmas.”
It sounds funny now. Maybe even a little selfish. But here’s what you need to understand:
We weren’t hiding presents. We were hiding joy.
For many of our neighbours, Christmas meant binge-drinking, over-indulgence, fighting, and pain. The holidays were something to survive, not celebrate. Our abundance felt magnified next to their pain. We couldn’t make it equal. We shared what we could — and we kept some of it small, quiet, and just for our family.
Our four daughters and a few missionary-kid friends get ready for a Christmas part at our house in 2003.
Hiddenness of Holy Things
There’s something theologically interesting about hiddenness at Christmas. God Himself came hidden—wrapped in flesh, tucked away in a feeding trough, born to a nobody family in a nowhere town. The glory of heaven, army-crawling into human history.
Why? Perhaps because some gifts are too bright for wounded eyes. Perhaps because presence matters more than display. Perhaps because God knew that real love doesn’t parade itself—it draws close and whispers.
We protected our family’s joy that morning. Boundaries aren’t the opposite of love; sometimes they’re its prerequisite. Jesus Himself withdrew regularly—from crowds, from demands, from the pressing needs that never stopped coming. He knew that you cannot pour out what you have not first received.
But here’s the tension: joy hidden too long becomes joy hoarded. And hoarded joy eventually spoils.
The goal was never to keep Christmas to ourselves forever. It was to receive it fully so we could give it away freely. To be filled before being poured out.
Where might you need to protect space to receive this Christmas?
Where might God be inviting you to stop hiding and start sharing?
Getting ready for the church Christmas party in 2003. Later, when I would ask icebreaker questions in small groups, I heard comments that this was the best party they had ever attended.
When Chaos Becomes a Sanctuary
Imagine standing among people who don’t know the rules, which is to say, a room Jesus would have absolutely loved.
Unchurched. Unpolished. Unpredictable.
Like the Jordan River crowd, or the hillside multitudes, or that chaotic house in Capernaum where they tore the roof off just to get closer to Him.
It turns out that when the Spirit breathes, the furniture of our expectations tends to slide across the floor.
And here’s the thing:
Church planting has always flourished in chaos.
Not because God is chaotic — but because He is endlessly creative. There’s a difference.
We think order means everything lined up, colour-coded, predictable. God thinks order means life — wild, fruitful, surprising life — like Eden breaking through the chaos waters.
He orders creation not by reducing it to boredom, but by calling it into abundance.
He organized the early church by pouring out His Spirit on fishermen, widows, cross-cultural misfits, and young leaders who probably still smelled like the boats they had just jumped off.
Somehow, in that holy chaos, a movement ignited.
King David Understood
I was startled about five years ago when one of our daughters told me, “I don’t like Jacob.” I didn’t know that was an option. But then I thought about it. Who intentionally cheats their twin brother? And colludes with their mom to significantly deceive their blind dad? Right to the end, the story continually feels like Jacob is selfish.
Who cheats their twin brother? Who deceives their blind father? Who lives with such persistent selfishness?
What if that were your ancestor? Your founding father? Your mirror?
David wrote a Psalm with a shocking punch line — and an astonishing conclusion that reveals how deeply he understood God’s love.
Comfort in Psalm 24
Psalm 24 is significant, comforting, and challenging. God sees things differently than we do.
God loves us, no matter what. He waits for our invitation.
God also loves our enemies and sees them as equally redeemable.
God loves the people we despise — for they too bear His image.
Hidden, patient work wooed Jacob for years.
The same is true of you.
And of the people around us.
Speak into God’s hidden work courageously — for the joy of a hidden relationship with the One who loves us all.
John’s Revelation
John loved the Psalms and echoed them often in Revelation. Notice the parallels between Psalm 24 and Revelation 3:14b-22:
“The Origin of the creation of God, says this:… So because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will vomit you out of My mouth…. You are wretched, miserable, poor, blind, and naked…. Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and will dine with him, and he with Me” (Rev 3:14-22).
Even Jacob — even a vomit-worthy church (Rev. 3:16b)
Command to open the doors — invitation to open the door
King seeks entry — Christ seeks entry
LORD of hosts seeks relationship — the risen Lord seeks relationship
God desires a relationship with those who seek Him. John’s revelation includes the idea that God loves broken, lost, stone-cold sinners and red-hot believers. And our life on earth is about whether we will seek Him, primarily revealed by how we treat one another along the way.
And It Gets Even Better
Psalms 15–24 form a ten-Psalm collection.
Psalms 15 & 24 as Collection Bookends
Both Psalms ask the same questions: “Who may dwell? Who may ascend?”
But they answer differently.
Psalm 15 Ten ethical qualifications — how you treat your neighbour. Its center teaches right evaluation: don’t idolize worldliness; honour the God-fearer.
Psalm 24 Four qualifications — then a scandalous pivot to grace: “even Jacob.” Its center teaches that blessing is received, not achieved. And uniquely, it ends with God Himself entering the hearts of seekers.
Together they reveal:
Holy living matters.
But access to God ultimately rests on His grace toward unqualified seekers — and His initiative to dwell with them.
We move toward God; God moves toward us. We meet in the center — where all who seek Him may be blessed.
Deanna’s Journey to Healing
Deanna’s chemo doctor didn’t emphasize alternative medicine. She emphasized a peaceful, joyful heart.
We’re now halfway (9 of 17 targeted therapy treatments done!).
Deanna completed another targeted-therapy session this week. These treatments significantly reduce the risk of recurrence for this specific cancer. They are expensive and unavailable in Marabá — but thankfully, BC’s medical system covers them here in Abbotsford.
Deanna is now one month post-surgery, and little by little, the feeling in her right side is returning.
Prayer Requests
For Deanna’s complete healing
For clarity about next steps
Texas Global Missions Conference
Church-planting consulting in Brazil
Launching a church-planting movement in Portugal
Conferences, retreats, mediation, and coaching for emerging leaders
The successful sale of the mission property in Marabá, freeing us to travel more
A Blessing
“The Wonder of it All” is one of God’s greatest gifts to us.
A Blessing
“The Wonder of it All” is one of God’s greatest gifts.
“When God builds a church, it often looks like Genesis 1 all over again: Formless and void… until the Voice speaks, the Spirit hovers, and Light breaks in.”
Don’t fear the chaos. Imagine all the seeds preparing to break through the soil. Bless the people around you. Shine in helpful ways while nurturing your hidden life with God. Watch what God forms around you, even before you can see it. Enjoy.
Because movements don’t begin with org charts. They begin with hungry hearts.
May you be startled — again and again — by the overwhelming wonder of God, creation, and the people He’s entrusted to you.
Partnering in the Work
We each play a part in the Great Commission. Some plant churches in marginalized communities. Some help leaders grow and work together. Some sustain the mission through prayer and giving.
When we do our part—whatever it is—it just feels right.
