The Wall

My first reaction when I saw these 3 or 4 year old barefoot boys playing on this 4 foot high wall in the city park was: "Those kids could fall and break their heads on the cement below!"  The next thing I saw was them sliding down the light pole and effortlessly shimmying back up again. 

We were setting up for the Castle Kids' regular plaza meeting in a neigh-borhood near the city of Posadas and kids were coming running from all directions. The wall soon became the place to be.

I set up my Hawaiian guitar and let its strange sounds fill the neighbor-hood attracting curious looks. The Castle Kids did some interpretive dancing including some impressive break-dancing.  

Soon the wall was reaching capacity and adults were standing around.  I took out my accordion and taught them a chorus... and almost everybody joined in the fun.

I drew my "reversible face" and gave them the Bad News (Rom 3:23) that is necessary to be able to appreciate the Good News (John 3:16)

Kids workers joined the kids as they prayed with some below the wall.

Pastor Sergio was only a teenage leader of the Castle Kids outreach team when their efforts in this neighbor-hood blossomed into a church.  My nephew Dan Hiatt and his wife Nancy stand in front of the church still without a roof where we held our service that Saturday night.  We prayed for the Lord to stop the rain storm and He did that just for us... to do the kids thing in the plaza and a roofless church service under the stars.

Nancy does not speak Spanish and these girls speak little or no English, but some great communi-cation is going on here.

Check out this new congre-gation... the result of a bunch of teen age Castle Kids doing some serious evangelism.

This stroke victim has been touched by the Lord and is now able to walk. Everybody wants to pet Perfume the skunk.

Pastor Sergio stands with Nancy, Dan and me for a picture. They should have the roof on the church soon... and he will be married in a few months to a lovely girl who he met in Bible School and who lives far away in Buenos Aires. 

I confess that stories like this bless my socks off!

Ralph