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I can remember years ago at a church I believe was near Ensenada, Mexico on a youth missions trip. As we walked into a small, but fairly modern building, worship music was playing. The music was contemporary and was led by a young worship team. The worship was sung with all their hearts toward God, and there was a sound of hope in the melodies and chords. I sat toward the back where I could ask a translator to explain some of the words. I was tired from travelling and being in services so many nights, and yet God was doing a tremendous work in my life. I didn't understand the words and yet tears flowed uncontrollably as I was drawn into the worship. God did a great work in me at that time and throughout that trip. The worship and music of Mexico and further south in Latin America is very passionate. I can remember meetings around Tijuana where the Holy Spirit covered the place and we worshiped well into the night with people who'd been set free from drugs and alcohol. After that trip my view of the Spanish speaking world changed. The next few years, I'd been involved in worship ministry and was into the late 90s revival scene, even to the point of travelling to places where great outpourings were taking place in US and Canada. Worship ministry in the local church grew and God helped to use me in this area in Portland. For years I'd looked back fondly on the Mexico trip that had a great impact on me, but was in the past. Years later through various means I was led to spend two years training in worship, music, and ministry at Portland Bible College. I can remember the fall semester of my softmore year at PBC. Our singing group from school had a song in Spanish, which we were to perform for the Hispanic service at City Bible Church on the West side. Things were pretty stressful at the time between heavy duty theory homework, red tape with credits, and all the other classes plus involvement at church, and working a night job. I'd also been thinking about where life was going and what to do after school. I also was looking into and praying about the possibility of going on a PBC STORM trip over the summer. Anyway, though a lot was going on I decided to support my singing group by coming to this service. Little did I know that God was about to rock my world. It was a great experience seeing the new Westside building and worshiping in Spanish. During the worship God moved on my life powerfully, and it reminded me of the worship on the trip to Mexico years ago. Though it's difficult to explain in words what exactly had happened during that service I can say I felt incredibly drawn to the worship and possibly hearing a call to some type of Spanish ministry. Our performance went well, but what I really remember was leaving and thinking about how much I wanted to go on the STORM trip to Spain. After that I applied, then prayed about the decision for a while. I and others went through many tests of faith that year such as working it out with my job, getting a passport, and especially trying to getting the money together. It was all taken care of thanks to God providing for me and also working through the support of friends, family, and my church whom I appreciate so much. For months I was wondering about whether it would truly happen, but it finally did happen, I was on my way to Spain! The team comprised of our leaders Eugene and Joy, four lady students who spoke Spanish (Paula, Sarah, Sarahi, and Amy), two guys (Travis and myself) with our guitars, and an intercessor with faith like a rock (Zarah). We prepared for months beforehand, meeting regularly for prayer, vision, music practice, and getting to know one another. During those months we also ministered at various local churches including some that spoke Spanish, which would help get our feet wet. On the Wednesday of June 15, 2005, we arrived at the Portland airport in the morning. I remember the excitement and anticipation. It was hard to believe it was really happening. For months it had been something we were looking forward to and preparing for, now this was it. When we left PDX our flight to Spain went pretty well. We flew from Portland to Cincinnati, then from Cincinnati to Paris, and then to Malaga from there, I believe around 20 hours after starting. The flight across the Atlantic was awesome, though very long. Air France has great service and the food was great. After arriving in Malaga, we met up with our hosts who drove us to the homes we were staying at. We were really worn out from the flight and jet lag so they let us nap for just a bit and then had us stay up the rest of the day in order to be able to sleep better at night. Nothing was on the agenda except to stay up that evening. So they brought us to an old Moorish fortress, which was really cool. It had walls, towers, a dungeon, and a great little museum with displays of old Spanish conquests. Afterwards we went back to the home and had glorious meal prepared by people from the church. We spent the weekend there putting on a seminar with worship and services in the evening and workshops in the afternoon. Travis and I ended up teaching a workshop on the role of the worship team where we discussed issues such as unity, resolving conflict, submitting to the team leaders, etc. That evening's service was powerful and there were a couple of major words for the church. One was the reconciliation of generations where there were wounds between the older members and the youth. The other was on bringing the arts of Andalusia into the church and redeeming them. Things like dance, flamenco and that sort of thing, which unfortunately haven't always been accepted in the church even though it's so much a part of Andalusia's ethnic identity. There were major wounds regarding that where God did a healing work.  Sunday morning we did that church's service and ministered to people. Then Zarah, Sarahi and I ended up going to speak to the youth which was pretty cool. We gave testimonies and then talked to them a bit. They seemed to think America was so cool, and they're more westernized than the older folks. That afternoon a couple others from the team and I spent the afternoon with a couple that was involved in the worship, Jose and Monica. There was a language barrier, so the others had to interpret. It was really great being able to have a conversation, because before I mostly made smalltalk, since my Espanol is so bad. I really appreciated the others helping me out on that. The couple was really great and I felt very refreshed there especially in the artistic atmosphere. The view of town, his pictures over the wall, and his CD playing, which he gave to the members of the team as well as pictures, and a book of poetry. That evening we did a final service at the church in Malaga. I was amazed at how much the people there thanked us profusely and gave gifts made by Christians in Morocco. I really didn't understand all the royal treatment as I felt like I was mainly just doing ministry work as usual. But apparantly the seminar and ministry at the church was successful, and I'm really glad that they were blessed. The morning afterwards we said our goodbyes and met our guides who then took us into Morocco. Morocco. What a fascinating country! I didn't really even know what we were in for here. To be honest I wasn't so sure about the hot sun and being in a Muslim country. In fact I hardly even knew what Morroco was or much about it before. Things turned out great though. We drove out of Malaga and to the ferry to Morocco. On the way we got to know the workers a bit. We played uno with weird rules added which was really fun. They were around my age which was pretty cool. The ferry ride was really nice and we could see the Rock of Gibraltar, which was a symbol of faith to us. We never did get around to arriving at the rock on the trip as our schedule was already pretty full, but seeing it increased vision. Then when we got to the border crossing, it went as smooth as ever. We were praying of course and so were intercessors back home. Hardly any hassles or searches or anything. It was a great start. After getting in we went up to a high hill and worshipped where a worker said it was okay. We got out our guitars and had a powerful time worshiping and interceding for Morocco. There were a few townsfolk around, but they were just minding their own business. Two friends would just sip on a mint tea and talk. The hill had a great view of the city. Garbage was strewn around and the sun beat overhead. One person described it aptly as being like a Muslim Mexico. That totally made sense, because I remember Mexico it being quite a bit like that even at the border crossing. We checked in at a hotel in a little town by the border. The hotel wasn't exactly the Hilton, but we made due. That evening we saw the town and beach. Our guide wanted us to relax and realize this was a pretty safe area with really nice people. We went up to an old lookout point with a great view of the ocean. We ended up going to a restaurant and having tangine I think. I got very sick for a few minutes. I had gone a while without drinking water and became very thirsty. Once cold bottled water was served it was so good I downed a whole glass at once. Then soon I felt like a fever was breaking, and sweated a bunch. Downing the glass so fast was not a good idea, but I felt better after a little while. Thirst had a new meaning for me in Morocco. I'd been thirsty in Oregon, but here it wasn't just a dry mouth, but it was a sick feeling in the body. This was just an hour or two, I can't even imagine what it would be like in stories like "Skeletons on the Zahara" where shipwrecked American sailors went for weeks trapped in Western Sahara without water. Throughout the trip we went on long drives to various cities and met workers who shared their faith through relationships and community service where public testimony and conversion weren't allowed. We heard inspiring stories, worshiped in their homes, and ministered to and prayed for the workers and Moroccan Christians. These were powerful meetings where the Holy Spirit really ministered to and refreshed these people. They were so very thankful for what we were doing, and we were glad to do whatever we could to help and strengthen these people who were doing the work in tough areas. As we worshipped we would often have to close the doors and windows especially when dealing with Moroccan Christians. Our group was expected to be travellers from a Christian country, and I didn't realize how free we would be to show our faith. We could pray in a restaurant or carry a Bible, no problem. Sing songs to Jesus, no problem. In fact I even heard "I stand in Awe of You" in a restaurant on the radio! Where there would be a problem is if we preached openly on the streets. And when dealing with Moroccans in the underground church we had to be very careful to protect them. It was a really good experience for someone involved in worship ministry to know what worshipping in the underground church is like. I really appreciate the freedom I have to worship in my country. It's something that can be taken for granted when you've lived here all your life. 
Prayers back home were definitely felt as various potential mishaps were avoided. One incident was when our guide's hotel room was broken into. His camera was looked through, but there wasn't really much that was suspicious. Other than that were no major incidents, though we might not know everything that was going on and the various ways God was protecting us. This was really due to the grace of God. As we travelled to different cities, the hotels we stayed at got gradually nicer. We wanted the full experience from the poorer lifestyle to the more upper class. Sleeping was rather difficult for me in that climate. I'm an Oregonian who sleeps much better in cooler air with rain beating on the roof. Although a couple of hotels did have a/c which was really nice. Calls to prayer would go on five times a day and sometimes I'd hear it around 4 am. It was very surreal being woken out of a dream to the middle of the night with an Islamic call to prayer. It would play on a loudspeaker and voices would drone and rise higher and higher and sound otherworldly. Translated it would say something like "there is one God and Mohommad is His prophet" or some such. Our team would often make fun of it to one another, but we knew we were dealing with serious stuff.  We also did some touring and site seeing. We saw the King's Tomb near Rabat which was very extravagant and beautiful. Marble was everywhere and pillar and columns rose from the walkway. The inside sparkled with golden light and had beautiful architechture. Guards in ceremonial robes were at the entrances and people could take their pictures with them. We also saw the medina in Marrakech which was quite an experience in itself. The crowded town square was quite a site where there were all kinds of shows and sales people. It was very stereotypical Arab like something from a movie. Storytellers, snakes, Arabic drums and pipes playing exotic music, and food stands. It seemed like the Las Vegas of Morocco. The call to prayer would go on and people would continue the usual partying. The medina was a huge maze of small shops with all kind of wares and aggressive salespeople. Mopeds, donkeys, and even a van forced their way through making us have to get out of the way. It was easy to get lost there if you're not careful so we made special effort to stick together. We learned how to bargain at least to a more reasonable price. I ended up getting a twin pipe type of instrument that I believe is called a "mijwiz" or African "maqrum". The place was like another world and time. I loved the whole experience, although spiritually the atmosphere was oppressive. We ended up eating outside there where the waiters were so funny, and the food was pretty good. Kids would constantly mob around us asking for money or food or trying to sell things to us. A couple's nights before we ate at a Syrian restaurant, with hookah pipe smoking, dim lights, and live music. I thought it looked like something from a spy movie. It was a cool place for young people to hang out at and date, and apparently was pretty controversial at first to fundamentalist Muslims, but Morocco tends to get less and less conservative as time goes by. The food was excellent and the main plate had something similar to a fajita, with very good spiced meat. For music they had a couple of singers accompanied by a synthesizer playing electronic ethnic sounding music. From what I heard these keyboards were especially adapted for non-western type scales which sometimes go between our usual 12-tones (to my approval to those who know my thoughts on this subject :-) ). We'd get into discussions trying to figure out the modes and all that. I really loved the taste I had of ethnic music. For me hearing different kinds of music intrigues me. I don't act like music where I come from is "better" somehow. For me anything new I hear that can add ideas to the same old thing can bring new life to music as music styles continue to evolve. I don't take comfort in hearing the same styles all the time, but get tired of the same thing. I delight to find new ways of expression in this emotional language of melodies, rhythms and sounds. I wish I'd brought a tape recorder and did some research, but I didn't think of that when packing. Moroccan food in general was good although I was often a bit sick especially in the heat. Vegetables are fresh, and meats are stewed with spices. Lots of olives and french fries. Drinks would generally be Coke, apple soda called Pam, water, or fresh squeezed orange juice. It was a bit too strong and pulpy for my taste, but others seems to really like it. Breakfast would often be French pastries and that sort of thing, along with a cup of the Moroccan coffee known as nus-nus which had a kick to jumpstart your morning. I really loved this coffee and the mint tea, which was the general social drink of Morocco. People would generally relax and socialize in the evening with mint tea. These Mediterrean social traditions were good for me to experience. It is a different life than Portland where we move around so much. When we do relax, it's with so much entertainment at home and we don't take much time to get to know one another. Now I need to go find a place in Oregon which serves mint tea or nus-nus. Our team did meet later at a great Moroccan restaurant in the area. Toward the end we also saw Roman ruins which had been there from the 3rd century. You could still see designs on the floor where the royal rooms were. Then there was something like a senate hall. I love history, and to be able to see firsthand something that ancient was exciting. In Oregon we usually just see forts or whatever not more than a couple hundred years old. We wandered about a bit and got good pics, but the sun was beating like crazy overhead, so we needed to be careful of how long we were out there. The highlight of the trip was where we had a dinner and social gathering at a Muslim home where we were the "entertainment". A worker had established a relationship with the family and we were invited to share in the gathering and sing music. They were so kind and hospitable. Our group sang worship songs in Spanish and French with the windows open and everything. To them we were this great traveling singing group from America. To have a gathering with musicians from a foreign land is quite a party. We had to sing in a way that wouldn't be offensive to them. It was more like we would have a great time singing songs from a foreign land, and then the worker would be able to explain things about what the songs were saying. They were very open-minded about it. When we did "Ouvre les yeux de mon coeur", which is "Open the Eyes of My Heart, Lord" in French, Morocco's trade language, some were singing along! Unfortunately I was feeling very sick from the crowded, stuffy room, not having enough water, and the whole vertigo feeling of being in a very different setting than normal. Despite this I was so glad to have been a part of this experience that I can remember and tell others about, as well as being able to pray for the family now. And by having us there it really helped the workers in their relationship to the family. This time was very significant. To be accepted into a home for a great dinner like that is a great honor and a huge step in friendship. As the week ended we crossed the border into Ceuta, still in Africa on the south side of the Med, but part of Spain. Worlds entirely changed as we said our goodbyes to the guides, and met our new hosts at Betel, a ministry that reaches out to drug addicts in Spain and other European countries. We rode in a van on a rode climbing a great hill. On one of the turns was a fantastic view of the town and beach which made us gasp in awe. When we arrived at the center we were given refreshments where a breeze flowed and there were beautiful trees which was so different from the desert type climate we were in before. As I looked out at the gorgeous view of the sea and breathed in the fresh air my heart felt like crying inside after everything we had been through in Morocco. Now we were in a place of rest and refreshing. We had a meeting for our team the day afterwards where we prayed for one another and were refreshed.  During those three days we did some meetings at Betel and a church in the city where a couple churches joined together. During the morning devotion service at Betel I was able to teach a message on using the Word to help overcome addictions. This was good, since I normally have a hard time making presentations. There were words spoken over me regarding teaching before we left, and this was a time of being released in a different area of ministry along with the workshop in Malaga. The last day in Ceuta we spent the afternoon at some sites and prayed for Spain regarding its history and bad experiences with things done in the name of Christianity. First we toured an old fort where soldiers gave us a lot of historical information. Then we came to the statue Generalissimo Franco had put up for himself. Then we came to a high place where we could see Spain, Ceuta, Morocco, and Gibraltar. Franco had cast his footprints here as well. We prayed for Spain and Morocco and the spiritual situations they were in.  We sang worship songs and interceded in English and Spanish for a while. We sang Eugene's song especially written for the trip, "El Gozo del Senor" (The joy of the Lord is our strength). We jammed on it for a while with Eugene's drum from Morocco, Joy's flute, and Travis and I playing our guitars. Basically our team believed in worship as an act of intercession, and so much of our ministry involved worship and taking it to the nations. Eugene and Joy are also the music teachers at the school. The idea of worship with a viewpoint of missions was one of the biggest things imparted to me from them over the two years spent at PBC besides all the technical things. Through the years I'd often had trouble figuring out this interest in ethnic music and had trouble knowing how to fit it in to ministry. This part of me fits well into the mission field. I hold much respect for these cultures and I hardly claim to be proficient in playing in these fields especially in soulful music where it's in their Middle-Eastern blood. My style was much more western with a pick and steel-string acoustic, but with Spanish infuences. But in ministry the Holy Spirit could work in these areas and be able to flow. When ministering crossculturally we don't lose our own identity and fake something else, but God graces us to able to do His work in these areas and bless people. After playing El Gozo for a while, the manager of the site came and invited us to sing in the Catholic chapel which had great acoustics. This was significant to sing this in this chapel where possibly Franco himself had prayed. Here we were singing about the joy of the Lord being our strength after years of fighting and bloodshed. After spending our last night in Ceuta we took the ferry back to Europe and drove to a little beach town called Barbate. Here we met a great couple who arranged for a flat for us. We spent the next day at the beach and a couple of restaurants. The next day we travelled to an old town on a hill called Vejer, where you could see the white houses from afar. Here there were a lot of old influences from Arabic culture, flamenco art and old Catholic decor. It was very resistant to the Gospel. The one church building we saw had the religious decorations and symbols taken out and was used as an auditorium where we saw dancers practicing their flamenco. When we entered the town we saw a bunch of tarot cards lying on the ground like something was going on before we came in. What a welcome. I started feeling rather queezy around the occultic stuff. We ended up singing a praise song then and there and then went on. The architecture was beautiful and really preserved the feeling of an old culture. White houses, small roads not built originally for cars, a castle and various pictures of saints and that type of thing. Now this felt like Spain and was less modernized like the other towns and cities. We went to the town courtyard and sang praise songs in Spanish and English using worship as an act of intercession. This was significant to praise God aloud in a difficult area of the Gospel. The townspeople around were rather indifferent to it, but spiritually I believe it was effective. 
We then spent some time visiting the Arabic community and castle. We also got to see dancers practicing, and then did some shopping in the various little flamenco shops. I ended up absolutely loving this place, as I enjoy the little towns that preserve European culture. I truly felt this was a good representation of Andalusia and its heritage. We came back to Barbate, and that evening we did an open-air meeting at the beach that was supported by a couple of churches in the area. We basically went through our Spanish songs and gave words and testimonies, while the local Christians talked to people or handed out tracks. For a little while all was right with the world as I played my guitar on a beach of Spain, feeling the warm breeze blowing in late at night. People around town would come and hang out, checking out the music and everything. Music and worship is such a great way of spreading the Gospel, as people love music and tend to be receptive to it especially when it's done in love. The idea here was that it would be a good way of supporting the local church here who would have a door for outreach and to tell about the three churches that were there. It helped to unify those churches as well which was a major part of our ministry. These local ministers and Christians out in these regions are doing the real work of the Gospel. Our attitude was to do whatever we could do to help and strengthen these churches which would in turn be a part of the harvest. After this we went to a port town called Algeciras. Here we did a meeting at a hotel where several churches in the area gathered. Here Eugene preached and we did more ministry to unify the churches and leaders as we worshiped with them and prayed for them. That night the guys stayed at an apartment while the girls stayed at the Betel rehab center where they had a center for women. They ended up having a great time with those women previously on drugs and that sort of thing and were able to minister to them. Those women had a heart for the lost and would continually sing in the night, calling in the broken from the streets. It ended up being one of the most powerful nights of the trip for some of the team. That morning we did a Sunday morning meeting at the Betel center, and then headed off back to Malaga. When we arrived with our original hosts Malaga, it had the feeling of our trip being done and we were back home. We told stories with our friends there, but then of course we had to say our goodbyes. We spent a brief night there then had to catch an early flight to Paris. Our flight back home ended up being a series of mishaps as weather kept delaying our flights. After 26 hours we came back exhausted, but relieved to have gotten home that day on July 4, 2005. I am very glad to have gone on this trip as I believe good works were accomplished to strengthen the churches of Spain and Morocco and in our lives as well. I now know how to pray effectively for Morocco and Spain, and my eyes were opened to many things. One day I was thinking about the Muslim culture. Imagine going through your whole life and then what you've believed about God, the things you were raised with and your own people's beliefs are not truly what you believe anymore. Muslims that convert to Christianity would be considered betrayers of their family and their people's ways and their country to other Muslims. These people I have the highest respect for, and would have to be true to their beliefs to make such a decision. One should understand that Muslims are just regular people going about their daily lives, not just the terrorists you see on TV. One should get past prejudices and see the whole picture. One can more fully understand the kindness of the people (as well as the cruelty in other areas) and the hold of Islam while there. God also released in me a gift of teaching which though it is hard for me I can learn as I go. I am now being used in this area at my church to help raise up musicians and worship leaders. I also have a heart for the nations abroad as well as my own local church. When I grew up I thought of missionaries as people I didn't know who showed slides of other countries that had nothing to do with me, except by giving a donation or praying for them once in a while. I hadn't really thought I'd be used to minister in these types of areas. Though friends in youth group were interested in missions, I didn't want to be involved in missions just because it was the spiritual thing for young people to do. Missions has gone through changes the past few years, though. Worship, music and the arts are taking a greater role. Ethnic cultures are respected more. The local church is taking a prominent role and reaching out to the community rather than relying on old methods like crusades, tracks, and evangelistic programs. Denominational walls aren't near the issue they used to be. Churches from different countries are networking and working together. The internet and technology allow easy communication worldwide. The idea that one could minister in a foreign country by playing a guitar, interceding on site for that nation, or serving in small ways wasn't how I used to think of it. I'm more interested when it involves things like this that I can do. Though probably only for a short-term trip once in a while for now, unless God calls me for longer. Music can take the Gospel to places where speaking would be difficult. When I talked to someone in the church at Malaga about going into Morocco, he said it plainly, "Hablo, no." as he pointed to his mouth. Then making a gesture of strumming a guitar said, "Yes." Praise also helps spiritually. Psalm 108:3 says, "I will give thanks to You, O LORD, among the peoples, And I will sing praises to You among the nations." And that's essentially what we did, and it was powerful. This trip will be something to remember my whole life, and I don't think it will just be a passing thing. I love Spain and would like to go back someday, but whether or not I ever go back, ministry and God's call on my life will continue on. Dios te bendiga. Note: Recently I found out the Greco who led our trip are now being sent out by City Bible Church as full-time missionaries to Spain this year. This has been on their heart for years and I am so glad for them. They will continue to be in my prayers. |
