It is 8:40 pm. The sun is down and Breanna and I just returned from another long drive in pouring rain.

I woke this morning just before 6am to the first full night's sleep since leaving Minnesota. Again we are very thankful for an air conditioner in our bedroom. Otherwise we are sweating all day long. Our queen size bed only came with a sheet and that is all we have needed during our stay. Around 6:30pm Breanna woke up and discussed whether or not she wanted to join me at the “Meals on Wheels” food truck. She opted to come with me which I was thankful for. With spotty cell service it seems wise to stay together. We made our way down our steep drive and north to what I now learned is called “Boroughs Square.” We went to the food truck to find the same smiling woman serving food. But all the other faces were unfamiliar. I was hoping to connect with Glen, Paul and or Spaghetti again. The food truck lady, “I forget her name” said they never come on Saturdays. So we took our coffee and food back to our car. As we made our way into our car, a fancy turquoise passenger van pulled into the parking lot blasting Christian rap music. This made them a clear target for my inquiry.

I met a young man named Arlington. He was in his mid twenties married and with no kids. He was also a pastor's kid and a part of St. Olivet Baptist Church. This was one of the churches I was hoping to connect with, but wasn’t sure how that would happen. He was very friendly. Although he had no kids currently, he said he hoped to one day be a dad. I was able to share with him my “My Story,” and share what we were doing on the Island. He seemed interested in connecting more, but was on his way to work. He was clearly more wealthy than the other men around us and driving a much newer and nicer vehicle. The conversation I had with Paul in this same location the day before came to mind. He had given his critique of the local churches getting rich off the people. This  was on my mind as I talked to this son of a pastor. Although Arlington seemed genuinely kind and expressed he wanted to make Jesus known. 

Just down from Borough Square is Market Street. Every Saturday a large farmers market flows down one main thoroughfare and then splits down several side streets. We decided it would be fun to walk the street and buy some fresh fruit from the market. A block in we ran into Angelo’s mom! We had a joyful greeting on the street. One of her daughters was with her. She had already been there bright and early. She told us you had to come early to get the best stuff. I believe this farmers market is the main source of fresh food for Dominicans living around Portsmouth. Breanna and I had wondered what people eat. The grocery store prices were incredibly high and very few people seemed to use them. Angelo’s mom also tried to describe which kind of Mangos to get. Saying goodbye, we went the rest of the way down market street and bought some bananas and several mangoes before heading back to our vehicle. 

From there we stopped at one of those expensive local grocery stores to buy some food to weather a potential hurricane coming in several days. Before we left for Dominica we received a wise word from a friend at church, “It’s okay if you don’t eat much while you're there.” That word of wisdom has remained true. We have eaten about one and a half meals a day since leaving from MN on the 27th. Also, because of the heat we have not been hungry. We also filled up our gas tank in preparation for whatever might lie ahead. We went back to our apartment shortly to put food in the fridge before setting off on the next leg of our adventure. 

Virgil had been contacted by some lady named Mrs. Burton to speak to a young father she knew. With less information than we would have liked, we went back to Borough’s Square to wait. Virgil said, “They will find you.” For some reason Virgil thought we would stick out. We arrived and waited for a few minutes standing outside our car to be clearly seen. Soon enough an older smiling Dominican man came over to us and caught our attention. He asked, “Do you have transport?” I pointed to our car and he said, “Follow me.” He climbed into his Toyota van and we followed. Of all my drives so far this was the easiest.  He drove slowly, either for my comfort or his own. We went north again past the restaurant we had eaten at the previous night with Angelo’s family and arrived at the nicest house we had seen on the Island. The yard was cultivated beautifully with tropical plants. A large mango tree heavy with ripe mangoes sat right in front of their house (later we left with a bag full). They also had several men working, weed whipping and cleaning up the front yard. We found that we had been following Mr. Burton. He was an elderly Dominican who was a retired local police officer. He also served as a deacon at the St. Olivet Baptist Church. I asked him if he knew Arlington. He said he did. He led us up some outdoor stairs and we entered the upper level of their home. Although there was no air conditioning an ocean breeze was coming through another door situated on a deck in front of the house. We waited in the living room for Mrs. Burton to make herself presentable.

Mrs. Burton is a no-nonsense Christian woman who clearly rules the roost and the neighborhood. She cares deeply about those around her and doesn’t mind sticking her nose in their business. We spoke for only a few minutes before she wanted to get going to some neighbors to bring the Fathers’ 3-10 project. We walked down her beautiful driveway and then left down the road that runs along the northern coast of the Island. The homes on either side of her are crumbling and broken. Two houses down we made our first stop. She walked close to the house and called the name (which I can’t remember) of a father inside. She said, “I know you stayed up late because it was your birthday, but come out here!” We heard several “No!” “Not Now” from inside the house. She kept calling until a 30 something year old man in his boxer shorts stepped out onto his porch. It was clear he had been drinking the night before and was feeling it. He once again asked us to go away, but Mrs. Burton was not to be denied. I asked him for two minutes and he relented. 

I shared with him about my kids and how children desire the attention of their father. I told him that God is calling him to be a spiritual leader in his home. I encouraged him that if he connects heart to heart with his kids when they are young, then when they are older they may still come to him in joy and trouble. I shared about the simple devotional he could do with his kids to lead them to Jesus. I told him this would help him become connected heart to heart with his kids. As I shared he relaxed and It seemed he connected with what I was saying. When I asked if he wanted a devotional to share with his kids, he replied yes. I asked if I could now bless his family and home and he said, “yes.” I prayed out loud and asked Jesus to bless him and his generations. I asked Jesus to reveal himself and bring salvation to this man’s family. After giving him the devotional and my “My story,” Mrs. Burton led us back to the road. 

When Mrs. Burton walked, she walked slow and steady. I had to keep stopping and waiting for her to catch up. Breanna followed behind her.  It seemed she preferred walking to driving. So we walked a quarter mile down the road, (now to the right and East) to connect with another father. I believe this next father was the father in the “Hamlet” we had heard about before meeting Mrs. Burton. The ocean view was beautiful as we made our way slowly down the road. Coming up on the right was a small convenience store and tables outside where several men were sitting. Mrs Burton led us just past the store then across a board laid over a storm drain. She then led us up a narrow path that ran along the top of a sloped retaining wall and into a path in the woods. We walked through the woods until coming to one of the poorest houses I had yet seen. 

Mrs. Burton called out “Not trouble, only love,” and again “Not trouble, only love.” Finally a man who was working behind his house came up to meet us. His name is Joseph. Even as I write this I want to stop and pray for Joseph. Joseph is a special man who has experienced great suffering. I do not know exactly what that suffering is, but you can see it in his face and demeanor. He is also gentle and clearly cares for his three kids and wife. I was able to share the gospel with him and read the first part of John 14. I introduced the Father’s 3-10 Project. He was very receptive and this was one of the best conversations I have had on the Island. He agreed that this was important not just for him, but for other fathers as well. We read the salvation prayer in the My Story. In the end he took three sets of devotionals. One for himself and two others for other fathers he knows. We prayed together. While I talked to Joseph, Breanna had good interaction with his young kids. We prayed together. I asked that God would bless his family and children. He seemed to receive everything gladly and I believe when we left he was encouraged. 

When we left Joseph's house and headed back through the woods to the main road, Mrs. Burton was all smiles. She had clearly been caring for and praying for this family for a long time. She plans on doing the follow up second Fathers 3-10 meeting with him to ask how the devotional is going with his kids. And to ask the questions, “What did you and your child like best? And what caught your attention, and why?” 

We made our way into the small convenience store and bought a cold drink while Mrs. Burton talked to the lady behind the counter. We then talked to one of the men sitting outside the store named Kirby. Kirby was friendly, but resistant. He believed in a creator, but not Jesus. He also didn’t trust any book. He had a general sense that God was in everyone. In some ways he seemed so close to the truth God. In the end he was the first to refuse the Fathers 3-10 project for him and his eight year old son. He did allow me to pray for him and bless his family. I am thankful that Kirby was honest with me and didn’t just take material to get rid of me or make me happy. Pray for Kirby that his eyes would be opened to the one true God revealed in Jesus.

After this we went back to Mrs. Burtons house. She made peanut butter sandwiches for us and she mixed up fresh passion fruit juice. We also ate fresh mangoes.We were nervous about drinking the passion fruit as she used local water. But she assured us that the water came from a natural spring behind her house and not the pipes. So we prayed and enjoyed the sweet nectar. Up to this point we have experienced no intestinal distress, thank you Jesus! We sat and talked for quite a while about the Father’s 3-10 project and she was very curious about American politics. By this point it was about 2pm and we were wanting to head back to our apartment, but now Mr. Burton had one more stop for us to take. Most of the time he was sitting in the living room watching the sport of Cricket on tv. But once more he asked us to “Follow him” and he led us back to Portsmouth.

 We followed Mr. Burton in our car into an even poorer part of the town with even narrower streets. We parked on a hill alongside a blue shipping container that had been turned into a basic home. Outside was a carport looking area and cement patio with several men gathered inside it. It was surrounded by broken things, buildings, cars, and people. This was poverty. But from the darkness of poverty came the bright face and smile of Birky. He was alive and I could see Jesus in him.

He shared his testimony with me about coming to faith in Jesus and everything becoming new. He shared about his baptism and then the struggle with temptation after coming to Christ. St. Olivet had already started the Fathers 3-10 project with him through the direction of Virgil Anderson on a previous visit. He said the “Good News” booklet he was given was a good experience for his child and he joyfully accepted the devotional. I shared about the assurance of salvation with him. He shared how he had a heart to help others around him. I told him that Mr. Burton might not agree with this (he was standing right there), but this carport with people gathered around would be a great place to gather as the church. He told me he often sits around with other men in that very spot and talks about Jesus while they smoke. Marijuana was recently legalized in Dominica. I didn’t chastise him for his marijuana use, instead I encouraged him to keep meeting with people, sharing Jesus, and opening the Bible together. He agreed this was a good idea.

When I look for people to help lead in ministry, I look for someone who is already naturally using their gifts without the influence of position or monetary gain. Birky fits this description. I think he could be coached to be a catalyst for a missional community movement in Portsmouth. He also is full of compassion. He shared about organizing men to be prepared to care for people in the coming storm. Birky has a son named Berkley. He said Berkley’s mom usually shares spiritual things with his son. He agreed it would be a good idea if “Dad” also had a spiritual relationship with his son. Birky allowed me to pray for him and bless his family. I also prayed for opportunities for him to continue sharing about Jesus and blessing his community. 

Breanna stayed in the car during this interaction as the area seemed quite unsafe. She is a saint for coming with me on this adventure! Mr. Burton wanted us to see his church. So we drove several blocks down the street to St. Olivet Baptist Church. They are currently adding an apartment housing on top of the building. Unfinished cement block walls rose on top of the church. Their space inside is traditional pews, pulpit, offices and classrooms. He told me there are few children in the church. I had a sense they are a church in decline. In my opinion the carport up the street would likely be a more fruitful venue for being the church than this building with all its furnishings. One of the things I have enjoyed about Dominica is the people. Whether because of poverty, climate, or cultural differences, people are always outside and around. It is not hard to find someone or a group of people to talk to. It seems a missional community church could be started every few blocks wherever people already are naturally gathering. 

We said goodbye to Mr. Burton and thanked him for taking time with us. He did the same with us and mentioned he wished we could come to his church the next day. We already had plans with Angelo and Manette to visit their church in Dos D’Ane, so I declined. 

After this we were ready for a rest, so we headed back to our hillside apartment to rest and think about all that had happened today. 

Prayer:

Jesus, thank you for providing us with all these ministry opportunities with people. We ask that you bear fruit in their lives and that the fruit remains.

Thank you for Mr. and Mrs. Burton’s care for the community. Bless them in Jesus name. 

Pray that the Holy Spirit continues to fill us and guide us.