Poochie

Just can’t not tell you about an amazing  resolution to a very distressing problem yesterday! 
The family who was just vacating a campsite we were moving into mistakenly locked the keys inside their van, so they couldn't leave.
Not really a big problem, right?
However, the plot thickened: they had no 2nd set of keys, we were 30 miles from any garage/tow truck help, no cell phone service in this remote area to even call anyone anyways, windows were closed tight on a hot summer day,  2 dogs inside. But the clincher: the couple’s baby was tightly strapped in his car-seat - also inside!
When my friend + I arrived on the scene, they had exhausted virtually every means they could think of: their vehicle was new, made secure against any illegal entry and  it had successfully withstood their every attack.
We joined forces with them, but it stood, a formidable fortress against our every strategy to breach its security. We hammered on the doors, tried forcing wires through cracks between windows and doors… but no cracks! 
The husband/father finally ran off to find a Park Ranger or anyone able to help, while we two stayed with the wife/mom. Through it all, the one dog sat calmly in the back seat beside the little boy, but two strangers suddenly poking around his castle for vulnerable invasion points really provoked the other doggie. ‘Poochie’s protection instincts kicked into full onslaught mode and he aggressively reacted to our every effort. Snarling, jumping almost maniacally up against the passenger door window, pressing his face and drooling mouth right against ours on the same window pane we were desperately trying to break through. Everything in him worked to repel us Aliens! The more we tried, the fiercer he grew. He was only terrier-sized, but the closer we pressed against the glass, the bigger his bark, growl and bared teeth appeared. He was determined: we were not invading his space!
And then the baby started crying! We wondered how long he and the dogs could last in such a tight, enclosed space with no fresh air on such a hot day?  Mom tried to reassure her baby, but all the shouting and barking only heightened the tension!
Then Mom had an idea: why not use this problem ‘Poochie’ to hopefully bring about the solution? He was jumping up and down against the window, just inches away from the lock switch, so our strategy became: get Poochie so worked up that his repeated jumping would land his angry paw just one time on that inside switch, click the lock and open the door!
We put our plan into action. Mom, who was South African, tried to coax him toward the switch, urging him on in Afrikaans while simultaneously trying to calm her baby.  My friend + I egged him on in English.
We didn’t know how much time we had; breaking a window appeared more and more a necessary possibility?
But Poochie’s every leap up came down short; only the intensity of  his anger grew closer as I could feel the heat of his breath increase through the window! We kept up our attack; our desperation heightened.
What would happen?
Somehow I felt this was going to end well: the Lord was fixing to do something + He did!
We split up our attack. My friend diverted Poochie’s attention to the driver’s side of the van and this proved to be a welcome distraction. He followed him over, barking all the while. But the change threw him off balance just enough so that he tripped on the steering wheel + stumbled + fell …
right onto the panel’s switch!
I heard a ‘Click!’, cried out an automatic  ‘Yes!’, pulled on the door handle before he could undo what he just did. And it opened!
Mom was ecstatic! She reached in, grabbed Poochie up in her arms so he wouldn’t chew my friend to pieces, all while reaching for her little boy and holding him close at the same time. She had been the one who’d inadvertently locked the keys inside in the first place. Relief and thanksgiving simultaneously so overwhelmed her, she started thanking Poochie + us in Afrikaans!
Only a brief few minutes, but an experience for a lifetime.
I don’t think Poochie realized all that he had  done for his family that day. His left paw didn’t know what his right paw was doing. But it was led by the Spirit and that was enough to open the once-locked door.
I left, thanking Father and searching further for the dad. He needed to know all this too had been worked together for good.

Looking Back to Look Forward

This is the 1^st photo I know in which Erica + I are together: probably the Fall of 1977, my 1^st year in Pacific Bible College, less than 2 years before our wedding. Can you find us?

Hint: she always had a tough time keeping her eyes open for photos + I sported a mustache back in those days.

Funny thing is: we’re on opposite sides in the photo, but would be married in really quite a short time!

Life’s full of surprises, isn’t it?

Today would be our 35^th Anniversary. 35 years together, 3 children, now 3 grandchildren, many years of ministry:  pastoring, teaching, being Mom + Dad to more than we can tally. Much fruit…  more fruit… fruit that not only remains, but by God’s grace continues to bear more fruit!

Thank you Lord for the good You bring through faith + love. Little did I know that girl on the other side of the picture would so soon be my sweetheart, bride, my wife to share so many years and memories that yet lay ahead! Thank you, Dear! What a privilege to share those years together!  I miss you; you are ever in my heart!

Thank you, family + friends, for your continued prayers, love and support for me + our family.

 

We look back

to look forward

for more that leads further

into all eternity!

Once I was lost, but now I'm found!

Sometime a long time ago, Joni Mitchell sang, ‘You don’t know what you got till it’s gone!’
and I’ve just experienced another depth of this truth.
This morning I ‘lost’ Erica’s wedding rings.
The rings that sealed our ‘I do’s’ 35 years ago this July 7th.
The rings that embodied God’s never-ending love and faithfulness to us and we covenanted to one another that day.
The rings the police gave me on New Year’s morning, the day they’d found her.
Her most important tangible, physical memories left to me.
And now I had lost them!
Before I left on the Teen Challenge Missions trip through northern BC a couple weeks ago, I’d made double sure I put them in a really safe place, where no potential thief could steal them, like had happened to her jewelry when our house was broken into last year. In fact, this evidently had been such a safe place that even I couldn’t find them!
And try as hard as I might, I could not remember where this ‘safe place’ was.
I looked everywhere. My favourite hiding spots: shelves, drawers, closets, behind books, wherever, whatever?
And that’s when I lost it. How could I be so responsible to protect something that I’d lose it?
Waves of emotion, loss and tears crashed over me and I felt the weight of their crushing impact!
My search grew desperate, frantic: upstairs, downstairs, kitchen, even behind the hot water heater! Who’d ever think of looking there, let alone hiding something there? Even time got lost in what must have been at least a half hour swirl of intermittent loss, panic, and ‘Not again!’ hopelessness.
And when I had exhausted virtually every possible ‘hiding place’ I could think of , like where would no one, including me, think of looking for these priceless objects?
… the phone rang.
The phone was the last thing I wanted to deal with. I was in no shape to answer, ‘Oh, I’m fine!’ and talk about the weather. I checked the Call Display and didn’t recognize the number at all. But something nudged me to answer, so I did. An unfamiliar, business-like voice proceeded to tell me I had a text message and informed me I had to press ‘1’ if I wanted to receive it. Those who know me know I do not text, and my landline doesn’t generally offer that service anyways, but I figured,
‘Why not? Maybe I’ve won a Caribbean cruise or the lottery? Nothing else means too much right now.’
So I pressed ‘1’ and the same business-like voice sounded out this message:
‘Henry, just wanted you to know I love you and am praying for you right now.’
And that was it. That was all. I stopped. I took the message in.
And suddenly a light came on and I saw a place? a space?
… and I raced to where I saw… the box I was looking for, with Erica’s rings secure inside!
Joy and a fresh appreciation of finding Luke 15’s lost sheep, lost coin and lost son all flooded and washed over me at once. God had just phoned me at my crisis point, reached me through some sensitive, kind but anonymous member of this supernatural body of Christ called His Church, and spoken faith, hope and love into me at my necessary moment. Enough so the light could shine through, reveal what had been lost, and restore peace to my soul.
Definitely a supernatural start to my day!
Thank you to whoever texted me: your prayers work!
Thank you, Lord of all rings: You answer prayer!

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The Greatest Revolutionary of All Time!

Christ is Risen!
2000 years later, this simple message is revolutionizing our entire world! This is not merely an idea, a nice religious thought we try to believe.
Christ’s Resurrection is a historical fact, rooted in reality, fully witnessed in Scripture, the foundation of our faith.
 Rom 10:9-10 affirms that when we believe in our hearts God raised Christ from the dead + confess this with our mouth, we saved/healed/restored/ made whole! Countless lives have been changed by this truth!
The Early Church preached Christ’s Resurrection to religious + skeptical audiences alike. Their lives embodied this message and humanistic philosophies could not withstand their evident demonstration of truth in action! They overcame by the blood of The Lamb who had overcome death and their lives and deaths bore witness!
While teaching in Nepal + India, I saw afresh how truly radical the Resurrection message is! Hindu + Buddhist culture know only reincarnation: endless cycles of karma + hopeless bondage, but Jesus broke the box of all human limitations. Not only was His preaching life-changing, but His final act marks Him as the greatest revolutionary of all time: He overcame sin + death!
The Resurrection message has a deepened significance for our family this year. We believe one day we will meet our Erica again and even share together this resurrection to life of all who believe and receive this good news! She is not dead, but has gone ahead of us to be with Jesus and her works follow her.
 Indeed, ever since her funeral, we are seeing abundant fruit of Erica’s life and answered prayer. People, things, situations she prayed into for many years (and I can testify: Erica prayed) are now coming to pass!
Our God is a Redeeming God and what the enemy meant for evil, Our Father is now turning for good + His glory.
Thank You again for your continuing prayers, encouragement and care for our family!
And we pray His Resurrection faith, hope, joy and love both rise up and increase, not only during this Easter season, but throughout your lives. May you be full to overflowing with His blessing!
Christ is Risen Indeed!

6 months, 60 years

Today marks 6 months since Erica went missing; even on the same weekday, a Saturday morning, ½ a year ago!
It also marks her 60th birthday, but it’s pretty hard to throw a party without her being here.
We miss her very much!
I think it’s been harder since I came back from the missions/rest trip to Mexico-Guatemala.
Don’t know why exactly?
I guess traveling can be a bit of a distraction and then suddenly I’m home again, expecting her: once again pulling up in the driveway; her unique, familiar march down the stairs; her full volume ‘Hi Hon!’ telephone voice calling me to come and pick her up from somewhere she’s just been waiting for me…
for the last 6 months.
But that call doesn’t come anymore.
And so I must focus my ears + eyes to hear + see that other call.
The upward call.
That call that undid what the enemy tried to do in stealing her away.
Erica’s legacy is yet intact, vital and bearing fruit! I believe in the Resurrection and that’s not just one day in the future; but ever since Jesus rose from the dead
= the 1st Resurrection, it’s been Resurrection Day and time for the fruit of His passion, resurrection and ascension to the throne of the universe to be known + shown!
And the fruit from her life is so abundant!
So many places I went in Central America, people told me how they had been affected and were praying for our family. Her story has touched many hearts, not only in our community, but beyond.
Although it didn’t turn out as we had hoped, yet her life was never in vain. From the many letters, testimonies, messages, and phone calls I’ve received, it’s quite evident her life example stirred and is yet stirring many hearts.
I’m believing for her legacy to bear fruit, more fruit and fruit that remains!
Rev 12:11 ‘And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their testimony.’
but we tend to overlook the last part: ‘and they did not love their lives to the death.'
That’s what seals the deal! When a believer dies, regardless of how, God still counts them overcomers.
Our Newfie friend recognized Erica in a dream as the one preaching the Father’s love on the very day she was entering heaven . When the Early Church suffered persecution, Tertullian, one the Church Fathers, coined the phrase, ‘The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church;’ because the truth is that when 1 believer died in the arena, 10 more were born again in the stadium seats! Hearts were touched; lives were changed!
Ever since Erica’s funeral, I am seeing fruit of answered prayer. Many people, things, issues, situations she prayed into for many years (and I can testify: Erica prayed), these are now coming to pass!
Something has broken through! The resistant exteriors are giving way, the ground of hard hearts is softening, the seed has been sown and, like our present spring season, it is now sprouting, budding, and ready to bring forth fruit!
I’m believing for 10, 100… no, 1000 and more to rise up and take her place!
Our God is a Redeeming God and what the enemy meant for evil, Our Father is now turning for good + His glory. Lord, give us eyes to see how You see and what You are doing in the earth even now, so we might work more effectively with you!
And that is more than enough reason for our family to celebrate Erica’s birthday today. We will remember not only her life, but also rejoice in those same promises of God she looked for, believed in, and embraced with all her heart.
Happy Birthday, dear!

‘You need to realize how much you have a Father who loves you!’

It’s amazing how the Lord turn days, lives and circumstances to His glory!
Today, for example, a friend asked me to coffee and brought another friend who had just driven across the country all the way from Newfoundland. This 2nd friend told me he had met Erica + me before, briefly at a conference a few years ago.
We sat down together, and he began sharing an amazing story with me that I would now like to share with you.
He was not really sure why he’d driven back to Abbotsford, but as he spoke, he said this purpose was growing clearer.
On October 5th, he awoke from a dream. In this dream, he had seen a line of people entering heaven. A young girl, he thought about 12 years old, left the line, came and stood right in front of him, pointed directly in his face and said,
‘You need to realize how much you have a Father who loves you!’
He added that he inherently knew this wasn’t a young girl, however; somehow he had the sense she was really an older woman, especially from her thick, combed-back hair.
Later that day, his wife showed him the FB story about Erica’s disappearance on the same day and when he saw her accompanying photo, he realized the girl in his dream had been Erica!
As he related his story, I felt a strong witness this was from the Lord for 2 reasons:
1st: he knew this specific item of Erica’s thick hair. This had always been one of her personal pet peeves: her hair was so thick she always said she couldn’t do anything with it!
2nd: her words about The Father’s love were the same words we use in expressing the central message of our Father’s Heart seminar we’ve been teaching for the last few years: ‘You’ve got a Father who loves you!’
He could not have known these details just through his own intuition, so this greatly encouraged me.
Somehow the Lord had driven this man all the way across Canada to affirm something in my heart.
Our ministry yet carries on, even though Erica is no longer with me.
She was preaching even while she was in line to enter heaven. She never gave up!
My new friend and I talked further, prayed together, and when we went outside, another fellow approached us.
I didn’t recognize him at all; however, my new Newfie friend did.
But almost immediately, this fellow turned to me, exclaimed, ‘You’re Henry, Erica’s husband!’ and proceeded to tell me how profoundly he’d been touched by her funeral service: ‘I felt I’d been in the most wonderful spiritual encounter ever!’
‘Oh, you were there at the funeral?’ I replied.
And he then related to me how a mutual friend of ours, who now lives in Alberta, had tried to get him to meet us months before, but Erica disappeared before this could come about. Turned out this mutual friend had flown out from Alberta and brought this fellow with her to the funeral.
Again… just an added touch of how strongly the Lord wants me to know how He has used Erica’s life even in death, and her funeral to touch hearts, even of people we don’t even know.
On my walk back uphill, I stopped where they’d finally discovered Erica’s body New Year’s Day.
So close, yet so far.
The sun came out, it grew warmer! Spring was in the air and I felt the Lord healing more in my life and family. Somehow He orchestrated these ‘chance’ meetings and brought me together with these new friends to affirm my heart that none of this has been wasted, to no avail, or in vain.
His Hand is redeeming even now: new glory through the pain and suffering.
And as if I needed more confirmation, as I continued walking, an eagle appeared above me. For me, another sign of His Presence, circling and soaring, leading me home.

If you are interested in more on The Father’s Heart: we have a 4-CD set that was recorded last year.
It focuses on how Jesus essentially came to reveal The Father, bring many sons and daughters to life, heal the father wound and break off the orphan mentality so evident in this generation (John 14).
Together, Erica + I and members of our family share how the Lord brought healing to our own lives, marriage, relationships and ministry through this vital message.
These are available for a donation.
Please contact me personally through a FB message or email: henryerica604@gmail.com
Simple gospel Answers to life’s contradictory Questions:
‘I’m a child of God’ + ‘I have a Father who loves me!’
Discover your eagles’ wings and mount up above those problems trying to overwhelm you.
I know it’s true: the Lord has lifted me through these last 6 months.

‘I have set an open door before you, and what I have opened, no man can shut!'

My Missions-Vacation trip to Mexico and Guatemala was going really smoothly until…
I had spent the first week with our team in Mexico City and Oaxaca, then 4 days with missionary friends in Puebla. My flight to Tapachula, a border town, had also gone well: I’d met my friends and we’d driven to Antigua, Guatemala where I stayed for the next week.
Tucked into a mountain valley, surrounded by 3 volcanoes, 1 still quite active, filled with beautiful flowers and impressive historic ruins, the entire scenario proved restful. It had been a great time, and now I felt revived, restored and ready to return to my home and family and continue life’s changes.
Monday started early: 3am and I awoke to catch a shuttle into Guatemala City from where I transferred to another bus for a 6-hour ride back to Tapachula, then flights to Mexico City and home on Tuesday. All my trip costs had been covered by love offerings and friends’ generosity along the way and now I was enjoying the final leg of my journey, gazing out my bus window at the passing Guatemalan countryside.
The only interruptions were those intermittent and inconvenient tumulos (in Guatemala), topes (in Mexico), speed-bumps (in English). Surprisingly, people actually build their own tumulos and then stand beside them, right in the middle of the road, with bowls extended, inviting contributions from passing traffic!
I felt a similar tumulo in my up-to-then smooth ride when we arrived at El Carmen, the Guatemalan border crossing.
Confusion reigned! I felt like back in Nigeria in the 80s! My bus was taking us all the way into Tapachula, but the driver advised us we had to take our own luggage off the bus and personally walk it through Mexican Customs. When I got off, all kinds of people immediately surrounded me! Taxi drivers soliciting fares – ‘No, I don’t need a
ride!’ Money-changers hollering out their competing rates of exchange – ‘No, I don’t need any!’ And everywhere, 7 + 8-year olds, who without asking, just grabbed at my suitcase, hoping to lay claim to a tip for helping me. In Nigeria, they’d asked, ‘Can I take your bag, sir?’ and meant it. They’d take it all right, and you’d
never see it again! I felt the same here, so I kept my bags close and my eyes wide open.
Surprisingly, the Customs officers asked us all to open our luggage and thoroughly checked each one. Chiapas State isn’t the most peaceful part of Mexico, so I guess they wanted to make sure we weren’t running guns or dope. I wondered: But why aren’t they checking down at the river where I’d just seen a whole bunch of contraband floating unchallenged into Mexico without any checkpoint?
I closed up my suitcases, beat off a few more would-be helpers, and continued towards the Immigration-Passport-Visa people. But there were none in sight and the
official there just waved me on by to my waiting bus. I thought it a bit peculiar that no one would actually check my passport, but in the midst of all the noise and confusion, perhaps the Mexican and Canadian governments had come to some special understanding, so we didn’t need a visa and passport stamp every time?
I loaded my bags back on the bus and took my seat. The bus drove off and I figured I’d left the confusion behind. My bus dropped me off at the city depot, I got a taxi out to the airport (such a deal! it was 1/2 the price I’d been told, so I thought I was extra blessed!) and I was there, ready for my flight, with 2 hours to spare!
Like life sometimes, my trip was going so smoothly until…
The next tope: Time to check in for my flight to Mexico City and when I gave the lady my passport, she kept thumbing through it, looking for something that was evidently not there. She asked me how I got into the country. I explained my crossing at El Carmen. She replied that I had no Mexican visa paper, but then shrugged, said this was just a domestic flight, and I could get on anyways.
Our flight flanked the sun setting in a red-gold symphony to the west, and then millions of crystalline lights twinkled their welcome to one of the world’s largest metropolises. My home-stay student and his family picked me up right when I arrived. We went out for a wonderful Mexican supper, then back to their home where I had a shower and even slept in a real bed for 3 hours. They woke me up (my second 3am rising in a row!) and kindly drove me back to the airport. I was at Terminal One in the Air Canada check-in line by 4am.
All was going so smoothly until ….
everything hit a sudden speed-bump. My ticket agent was looking through my passport and asked me where my Mexico visa paper was? I again explained how the border officers had just waved me through yesterday and expected that to be enough. But this agent did not look happy. He called over his manager, who looked at both my passport and reservation papers, which made him look even unhappier, and then told me I could not get on my flight without a proper visa paper and stamp!
I replied, ‘But it’s not my fault! The Mexican Immigration officials themselves had been negligent. They waved me into their country without a visa and now these same officials didn’t want to let me out until I’ve got their stamp?
I think I began muttering en espagnol, ‘Loco, loco!’
However, the manager did offer me a bit of hope. He gave me a stand-by boarding pass, and then said all I had to do was pass through Security and secure the necessary paper and stamp from some Immigration official who would be on the other side!
I made it through the first step, but the second proved a seemingly impossible wall!
I did find him, but this Immigration officer spoke very ‘poco inglese’ and together with my ‘pecito espagnol’, the only thing clear was that he was not going to give me my stamp, although it was right on his desk in his hand. He was not helpful at all, but kept on talking about some faraway Gate 19 and Door 10, where they might be able to.
We were at about Gate 28 so I headed down the hallway, my carry-on bags in tow. Ten minutes later (it’s a long way between gates in this terminal!) I arrived at Gate 19 only to find a lone cleaning lady, but no Door 10 anywhere! Not even a Door 1! She spoke solo espagnol, which further frustrated my search, so I turned and ran 10 gates back to Immigration. He was quite put off with me when I told him his Door 10 didn’t exist, insisting it was just outside. So how do I get outside? Do I go back out through Security and count 10 doors to my hidden destiny?
Our language differences didn’t help communication. Another lady stepped in, but only made things worse.
I found out my flight was leaving through Gate 34, so now clutching my Stand-by boarding pass tightly and praying fervently in the Spirit, I abandoned my search for the elusive Door 10, hoping AirCanada would be more helpful.
Another 10 minutes sped past me, and when the agents showed up; the lady said she couldn’t help me, but directed me to the manager, the same dude I’d met at Check-in. This time he proved completely unhelpful, even abruptly advising me, ‘Go back to Immigration, Meester!’
Discouraged, I rushed back to this one who was not at all happy to see me again, and emphatically insisted that the invisible Door 10 held my answer. I thought perhaps I was misunderstanding Door 10 as really Gate 10, so I ran, again with my luggage, another 20-gate marathon.
But Gate 10 was empty, and there were still no doors!
Time was outrunning me. It was now 5 o’clock and I had less than an hour to find the magic door!
I ran back to the Immigration guy, pled with him, appealed to his compassion and sense of justice to just give me the stamp he held in his hand so I could go home. But he didn’t budge. In fact, he was unrelenting, even belligerent.
But then he added something new to the Door 10 mystery. It really did exist, but only opened at 7am!
‘Non bueno,’ I countered, ‘my flight leaves at 6!’
‘So rebook your flight for menana!’
Talk about Catch-22! So was I supposed to stay in this No-Man’s Land, like some Tom Hanks movie character, in this airport for 24 hours or however long? I told him this was ridiculous and they should take care of their own bureaucratic irresponsibility.
Thank God I still knew I could pray: those 88 Days did teach me something.
But I was at a loss of what and how to pray? I’d appealed to the Lord’s power and mercy, taken authority over the devil, cast down his schemes and everything that was trying to hinder my journey. But as I ran back to the AirCanada Boarding Gate, only 20 minutes remained till its departure and every minute screamed more loudly that my plane was leaving without me. Frustrating? Discouraging!
I arrived out of breath and the manager made like I was invisible, completely avoided me, walked right by me and disappeared!
That did it! Any hope I had broke and so did I! At a loss, I virtually crumpled on their counter and cried out: ‘It’s up to you, Father!’ and was reconciled to wait on His Will… whatever. 88 days’ waiting has a tendency to change one’s perspective.
The lady agent I’d first met at this gate then came over and asked why I was so upset. I told her the situation: I needed to go home – today. I poured out my heart about Erica, the last 5 months and how I needed to be with my family!
Then, without a word, she took my Standby pass, went to her computer, typed something, returned and handed me a real boarding pass.... and with a glance to see if her manager was watching? motioned me to board the aircraft!
Dazed, I started walking, down the boarding ramp, onto the plane. I felt like I was reliving Peter’s dream coming out of prison!
Amazed, at how the seemingly impossible had suddenly become so possible!
God was at work, especially in and through this woman’s compassionate heart! I’m now convinced she was an angel – there just to make a way for me!
I sat down in my seat: 12F, and pulled my seat belt tight. There were still 10 minutes till take-off and they still had 10 minutes to remove me from the plane. But I resolved that even if the Immigration guy, the Air Canada manager and a gang of Federales might all appear, they’d have to take me by force. I would not go without a fight! If need be, I would create an international incident. I was not ending up in a Mexican prison!
The 10 minutes passed. The stewardess closed the overhead compartments; the aircraft’s door was shut tight.
But…then it took another 15 minutes for our plane to finally pull away for take-off.
But in that time, I heard His Word speak in the power of His Spirit:
‘I have set an open door before you, and what I have opened, no man can shut. And what I have shut, no man can open!’
Finally we were airborne! We cleared that last tumulo/tope/speed bump.
I had my wings and my heart filled with thanksgiving and overflowed with joy!
God had made a way where there was no way.
Within 7 hours, I was home and my luggage too!
My angel had remembered to even put it on!