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Take a Visit: PORT MERCY - USA
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Take a Visit: PORT MERCY - USA
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Take a Visit: PORT MERCY - USA
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Former cover to Jesus & Company:
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Take a Visit: PORT MERCY - USA
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Exciting ChaptersClick on the underlined chapters to read about Beginning the Vision of Friend Ships and Samples of God's Hand. Dedication Preface Publisher Preface Forward
Samples of God's Hand
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Take a Visit: PORT MERCY - USA
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We continued to work hard at preparing the ships for sea and loading supplies. We got truckload after truckload of school desks from the Los Angeles Unified School District. The desks were awkward to load and took up an immense amount of space; they wouldn't stack. They just kind of piled and, on more than one occasion, I seriously wondered if we should be taking them to Nicaragua. Another day, our driver backed the truck down the dock and threw up the door. It was stacked to the very back, full from top to bottom with thousands of gallons of hydraulic oil. "Hydraulic oil?" I asked. "Take that back. We need food for the Nicaraguans." "Oh please," the driver said. "The Company was so blessed to give us this." I said, "No. Take it back. Get rid of this oil. I'm only taking food. Get rid of it." The driver continued to plead his case. "It would be so embarrassing to return this load. Can't we just take this one truckload?" "Okay," I agreed. "One truckload. But now go and concentrate on food." ... When the Spirit sailed into the harbor, the Nicaraguan government and port authorities rolled out the red carpet. Men from the army came and offered to provide trucks and security assistance as well as anything else they might be able to do. Soon afterwards, navy officers arrived. They told us how proud they were that we were in their harbor and that they would assist us in any capacity. Nicaraguan port officials came aboard and told us they were waiving all fees and thought they could get volunteers to come unload our ship and work for free. Professional stevedores came to work their difficult and dangerous job. We were surprised to see they had no hard hats or gloves, and some were even without shoes. The men worked for hours and hours without rest. Food was very scarce during this time in Nicaragua, so we were blessed to be able to serve the stevedores giant hamburgers, ice cream and all sorts of other wonderful food. When the port officials paid us a visit, we asked, "Is there anything that we can do for you here at the port, something the Spirit crew can do to say; thank you' for all you are doing for us?" The officials replied, "Thank you, but our problem is not only food. You see, all of our cranes, forklifts and power equipment are down and not running. We've run out of hydraulic fluid and no more is available, so everything for us has come to a stop." "Gentlemen," we said, amazed, "the Lord has a very special gift for you. It just so happens we have a full truckload of brand new hydraulic fluid." The lesson was obvious. While we were very busy off-loading supplies, the Nicaraguan President, Violetta Chomorro, graciously invited the crew to the palace for a lunch and reception to thank us for what we were doing. The crew was working an incredible amount of hours, almost round the clock, to accomplish the job of feeding children in need, so they were not able to attend. But Sondra and I decided that we should personally go to thank the President for her help. . . She greeted us politely and thanked us for what we had been doing to help her people. Then she stated that she had scheduled radio and television interviews and that the newspaper and camera men would be photographing this session. Almost as if choreographed, the doors opened and news people began to enter. As they took their position, I leaned forward. "President Chomorro, please permit me to explain. We don't give interviews to the press." "President, if I could explain. We've heard of the trouble in your country and that the food supply was short, medicine shelves nearly empty and the hospitals and clinics had practically nothing to work with. In the short couple of days we've been here, we've seen that it's far worse than reported. We've come with thousands of tons of baby food, rice, beans, flour, dehydrated food, medical supplies, clothes, building materials and much, much more. We have come with the love of Christ to give freely to your people at no charge. "Please, Mrs. President, hear our hearts. We have come to love you and your people, with the love of God. We have no interest in interviews, reporters or television. We come quietly to help your people in their time of need. . . . . We don't want your people to think that rich Americans are the answer to their problem. We want them to know the truth; that God has heard the cry of the orphans, widows, elderly and poor. "Here in Managua is Casa Bernabe, an orphanage of 140 children who have been fasting for one day every week, praying for our safe arrival. This orphanage is reported to be your country's best, but it has no windows or doors; only dirt floors. They have little medical attention; food is sparse and they have little to wear. We'll be giving food and supplies to this orphanage (which is run by the local church) for them to distribute. We would like to remain behind the scenes so that the Nicaraguan people will see the local church meeting the needs of the city's poor. Then they will know that it was God who heard their cry." President Chomorro began to smile and relax. She sat back deeply in her chair and with a wave of her left hand, said, "Take the reporters all out, all of them." As quickly as they had entered they disappeared. The great love the President had for her people began to flow out of her as she talked. She told us of their needs and of her dream for her nation. She thanked us for respecting their dignity. We saw the depth of her character as she told us how, when the people wrote her letters, she stayed up late each night, reading every one. Like a grandmother doting over her grandchildren; each child so precious to her; she longed to meet their needs. The President shared with us, "This very day I toured some of Managua's public schools and was grieved to see thousands of children sitting on the dirt without paper, pencils or even desks. Those few who were fortunate enough to have a desk carried it for miles each day to and from their home, balanced atop their heads, just to be certain it wouldn't be stolen." She leaned back in her chair and sighed. "If only you'd been able to bring school desks." Can you imagine the excitement we felt as we told her, "We have thousands of desks stuffed in our hold." and realized how the Lord had orchestrated our entire load of supplies! Learn more about Friend Ships in Nicaragua
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Take a Visit: PORT MERCY - USA
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One afternoon we were daydreaming about how things could be when the ships began to sail. I said, "Wouldn't it be nice if we had lots of new shirts for the crew? Maybe they should be white polo shirts so when they go into town or we had visitors aboard, the crew would look sharp. And we need some new thick jersey T-shirts and maybe some Russell sweats, the brand that's extra heavy cotton; warm, toasty and never seem to wear out." (Russell sweat clothes were a favorite of mine, a special quality I regularly bought at a time long past when cost was not a concern.) Of course, no one overheard our conversation, nor did we mention it to anyone else. Yet, a couple of days later, a United Parcel Service van arrived with eighteen large crates. We helped the driver unload, signed for the boxes and asked what was inside. "I don't know. The paperwork should be in one of the crates," he said and drove away. We cracked open the top of the first crate. Incredibly, it was stacked full of beautiful white polo shirts of various sizes. We pulled some out of the box and looked them over. They were very good quality, 100% cotton. We opened another case. It too had beautiful top quality white polo shirts. Incredulous, we continued to crack open the crates. The next one contained cotton jersey T-shirts, just as I had described, the thick ones that really last. We couldn't believe our eyes. More and more T-shirts, more and more polo shirts. We opened another crate which was stacked to the top with Russell sweat shirts. We were in total disbelief! Was there a hidden microphone? Was someone listening to our soft whispering and smallest desires? Someone was listening. Someone was taking notes. Someone was collecting and gathering, folding and stacking, boxing and crating. Someone was sending and delivering. Because there in front of us was our soft whisper that had become a reality, even to the styles, sizes and brands. This was no coincidence. This was our Father's love.
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