Greetings, January, 2003

Sometimes I must sound like "Johnny One Note." I keep thanking you for your prayers for our safety. Maybe it's because I'm nearing seventy-five. Or maybe it's because we run so close to violence. And then maybe it's just the insane traffic we encounter south of the border.

Yesterday I encountered and successfully negotiated the most chaotic traffic I have ever experienced in more than thirty years of driving in Tijuana. In this city you don't evaluate the term traffic as an orderly boring parking lot on a freeway. It's anything but a static parking lot, it's a dynamic explosion of determined and creative wills. You see Tijuana is a foreign city and different in so many ways including the way they drive. These guys are good!

Yesterday from the children's jail I could see the traffic on the Via Rapida (rapid way) bunching up. This I had never seen before. I looked again, traffic as far as I could see. I thought it might be an accident so I took a dirt side road and headed to our Monday staff meeting. Aaron and Tim followed in their two vehicles. Again more traffic. A police officer overriding the traffic signals had given up and walked away just as I pulled up to the stop light. In times like this anarchy reigns and may the best man win. I quickly cut left and led the pack but soon there was no traffic. I found out why as I came to a detour sign, a big yellow arrow pointing left. I was quickly entrapped into another big mess of traffic heading back toward my starting point. Four lanes of frustrated drivers jockeyed for space on a three-lane road. I moved to the right and slowly inched into a larger mass of vehicles. At the wheel of each car was an alert determined driver! This is Mexico where rules aren't just bent but simply discarded in favor of expedience.

On my radio I warned Aaron of the trap and told our waiting staff to eat without me and that I would be late, very late. Aaron took a quick right and was suddenly involved in his own labyrinth and poor Tim, well, I haven't seen him since.

My destination was about ten minutes away but I had no chance of getting there. I took my first opportunity to turn and head back to the city and drove almost an hour around the city to get to the meeting, heavy traffic all the way. In these traffic jams only the most alert and aggressive drivers survive, their mentality a delicate balance between doing what's right in their own eyes and survival of the fittest! Alas, my U.S. driving habits have been corrupted by thirty years of driving in Tijuana. I have a split driving personality. But I finally made it. As I walked into our meeting everyone clapped. Yep, the old man made it again! Thank you for your prayers.

I often think of you as I return home late at night. Your prayers mean so much to myself and our team on the field in Tijuana. Your prayers not only keep us safe but also make the difference in defining our ministry. We want to be His instruments. Prayers for wisdom, love and patience and being good stewards of our time and your money. Thanks again for your important part on our team and your faithful support. May God bless you.

P. S. John called me late last night. He is our "children's club" man. As he was returning to the US he was rear-ended. Fortunately no injuries! John's is rear bumper slightly damaged; the violator in his very damaged car, backed up, made a turn and disappeared in the night. Indeed your prayers count!

Happy New Year and many thanks! we appreciated each of you who helped us this month and the many who gave a little extra! We had to tighten our belt a little this Christmas, but according to what I hear, we came out better than most charities. Optimism for the future is in short supply but we have a great God and a loyal team so hopefully we will be able to continue making a difference in our world across the border. As we work in Tijuana it's hard to conceive of our U.S. economy having it's own ups and downs. The people with whom we work down here simply have no economy.

On a more positive note, Christmas Eve, as Hortensia and I were driving to different neighborhoods delivering your gifts, she said, "This is where the little burned boy lives; lets stop in here." I pulled off into a muddy lot, shut off the engine and got out. By that time little Joshua and his brother were coming toward us. Two years ago Joshua was terribly burned. His father's old car, an open can of gas and a dropped cigarette combined to burn the child's head, shoulders and hands. After months of skin grafts he was put together again. today he is a five year old looking somewhat like a white plastic doll. He is unable to show facial emotion. I bent over and asked him if he would like a little car for Christmas. "Si," (yes) he replied, and he selected a little pick-up truck. I also gave him another car and his brother and sister gifts also. Joshua was so happy as he pressed his little car to his body between his two fists. His burned hands became fists and do not function. He even posed for a photo. I was a little hesitant to take his picture but he didn't mind and his father said it was OK so I went for it. It hurts me to think of Joshua's future.

And, I could tell you about our gift giveaway two weeks ago in Pana. There we had more than five hundred eager boys and girls and their mothers receive gifts, blankets, tarps and food. Then yesterday, we had nearly six hundred kids and moms receiving gifts. Next week it will be another area and hopefully enough gifts. Big statistics can be impressive but in the end reality translates to a little Joshua and his simple toy pick-up truck or Laticia who had nothing to offer her four boys for Christmas except a hopeful statement, "Things will be better next year" and a promise of a simple Christmas breakfast of scrambled eggs. Of course we were there - -or better you were there - - and we remedied the situation; the boys received their gifts and she had a nice chicken dinner to feed them.

Thanks to your prayers, the CMI (children's prison) waved state regulations and let us in for a program on Christmas Eve. It wasn't much of a program, but, we were really welcomed by this large group of boys on a very cold and dreary night. Two long rows of kids and teens on their plywood bunk beds seated facing each other. Paul played his guitar and soon the kids were singing and clapping; I brought a brief message on "The Jesus no one had room for." We finished by handing each kid a donut and candied pop-corn ball.

Again, many thanks for your faithfulness and giving spirit that allows us to minister in this forgotten corner of the world. As I was driving home last night Ernesto called me on the radio and said that two of the teenage boys we know, Tonio and Danny, were hit in a drive by shooting and would like to see me ... . Please keep us in your prayers!

Be assured that each of us at Spectrum wish you a happy and prosperous new year! Thanks!

Seasons Greetings, December, 2002

When a little tike, I was a true believer! I believed in Santa Clause with all my heart. Christmas was my time of the year because I was going to get gifts. I could hear Christmas, I could smell Christmas and I could even eat Christmas, and it all tasted so good! My family was very poor so our Christmas tree was usually a late, dry bargain, indeed the runt of the lot. Often our little tree was a misshapen with sparse branches, but oh, it smelled so good! We hung Christmas on it and around it; a colorful burst of Christmas in a otherwise drab life!

Santa faithfully gave each of us one or two little gifts that mysteriously appeared Christmas morning. However, little by little my simple belief in Santa eroded. The more I thought, the more things didn't add up; we had no chimney through which Chubby Santa could enter and leave and our vent pipe over the stove wasn't a realistic option for a man of his proportions. Then it was the flying raindeer thing and, really, how aerodynamic is a sled? Traversing the whole world with one big bag of toys on one long night was also a bit too much of a challenge. Santa's seemed to be everywhere; how many Santas were there and which was the real one? Slowly but surely I lost my faith in Santa even before I met the person of Christmas and began to know the real reason for the season. How well I remember Christmas in clean and colorful America. Christmas had it's place and even being poor we kids were the stars. I loved it!

Christmas in Mexico is so different from Christmas here. Their Christmas extends into the new year and there is no obsession with Santa Clause. Christmas is more an extended-family eating time, and, unfortunately, drinking time. Christmas is the time for tamales and spicy hot drinks. Christmas trees? Not many among the poor. On occasion a little bush sits near their chipped manger scene among the clutter in the corner of a dark room decorated with little paper stars or just the paper decorations hung around the room that's called home. There will be little light but no heat. Many homes of the poor will have Christmas lights hung outside at no cost as their electricity comes from a long lamp cord extending a block or more twisted up a pole and tapped into the main power line. Gifts for the children? Not really. Christmas is a time where mom may buy them a new dress or trousers or socks. Not often can she afford a toy. Jolly Santa isn't really in the picture, and the baby Jesus laying in their little manger scene isn't a giver of toys. Yes, their Christmas will be a lot different from ours.

As you know in December we try to provide little Christmas toys for all our kids, about two thousand of them. About this time of year I sort of envy Toys for Tots and other large charity organizations; boy they get the nice toys. We are a very small organization with a big December agenda. It's our big and expensive month. Between taking groups of U.S. teens across the border, opening the packages you folks send us, sorting clothing and buying toys, we haven't much spare time. All of this to say, your gift to us meant a lot! THANKS!

Please pray for us as we will be working hard, long hours these next few weeks. This month the border going south into Mexico clamps down on all vehicles. The Mexican government doesn't want toys, clothing or blankets going into Mexico. Their statement is clear, "Buy your Christmas stuff in Mexico; we need the business!" Translated: We will be hassled. In the United States, there is what we call the "Christmas Spirit;" in Mexico there is no such "Christmas Spirit." Please pray that we can get these gifts, blankets and toys across.

Each of us at Spectrum wish you a very nice Christmas and a very happy and prosperous New Year. Again, thanks for your important part with us this past year.

In His love and representing all of of us, Pastor von