Testimony of Renewal

From the beginning when I began coming to Tierra Nueva, I felt a lot of pain. In 2001, I had an accident at my job at the chicken processing plant. A man pushed an 800-pound container full of chicken from up above, without looking, and he didn't see me below. The container fell on me, trapping me and pushing into my waist and legs.

As a result, I twisted my back and injured a disc. My back was swollen and inflamed. I had to leave my job; after that, I could hardly work at all. I couldn't even go up stairs without someone helping me. I didn't have any strength. In 2003, I stopped working completely because of the pain and weakness.

About five weeks ago, I came to the service at Tierra Nueva. Bob offered to pray for me. He asked God to do a miracle and take the pain away. Immediately, I began to sweat. I felt a lot of heat in my back, and the pain went away. I moved around a lot to see if it would return, but it didn't. When I left the service, the pain was gone, and it hasn't returned.

It's good to be in God's house. God is good. We need to love and pray to God like children. God is gracious, and answers us in everything we pray.

Emily Martin

Winter 2007

We’re used to the teaching that when you break the rules, here are the consequences. For example, in my house we had rules, and if I broke the rules, I knew for how long I would be grounded. That’s how most people are raised.

Last year when I was in Mexico, I suffered with asthma really bad because of all the pollution in the air. When I came home, I was really sick with asthma all through the winter. I came to Tierra Nueva and saw people being healed, but I didn’t ask God to heal my asthma, because I got asthma from smoking marijuana for so many years—I thought it was my punishment from God. I smoked weed for all those years, and so now I thought I had to live with asthma, because that was just the obvious consequence. I never felt I could ask God to heal my asthma, because obviously it was a punishment for having done something I knew was wrong.

Then one Sunday at the Tierra Nueva worship service, Bob was telling stories about guys in the jail who had gotten in fights and broken their hands, and God healed their hands anyway. So I thought I would ask God to heal my asthma. That Sunday, there were so many people in the service who needed prayer for healing that Bob said we should all put our hand on whatever part of our body needed healing, and he would lead us in a prayer. I put my hand on my chest, and we prayed as a group.

Later, I realized that I could go outside in the cold air and still breathe. I played soccer at night with some of the guys from Tierra Nueva, and I was fine. Then I went to Oaxaca over the summer where the air pollution is really bad—protesters were burning busses and tires—but I was fine. When we went to Mexico City, the air pollution turned my eyes red, but I didn’t cough hardly at all.

Now I don’t have asthma. I learned that there are consequences, but that’s not the same thing as punishment, because God’s not about punishment.

Ryann Lachowicz
Fall 2006

I don’t know if you’ve ever felt engulfed by darkness or in a pit of hopelessness, but I was just there. I grew up “knowing” Jesus but that knowing has been more like a constant anxiety in my stomach over not measuring up. As I got older I thrived in ministry involvement in college, academics, and I strove after a life of social justice to the marginalized. I had gotten really good at jumping through the necessary hoops to show others (and myself) that I’m “ok”.

And then I fell apart. After graduating from Western I received some personal blows that shattered the neat little path I had set up for myself. I felt lost. I didn’t have any direction to go in…no clue what to do with this degree I’d just slaved for. My heart hurt so badly. Relationships failed. I felt so distant from God and disdainful to Him. I started to turn my face from God and for the first time in my life identified with the prodigal son of Luke 15 instead of the older dutiful son. It was deep shame that drove me away from the Father, and after returning deep shame remained.

Sometime in late spring I found myself sitting in Tierra Nueva’s upper room at a migrant outreach training. I had been walking toward healing with God since November, but I was still severely disillusioned with the church, my life, and faith in general. That morning I came expecting a program. I came expecting to hear a list of good approaches and well-tested human efforts that would make an effective outreach. I expected to need to prove my worthiness for the task.

Instead I was met with something real. I was confronted with people’s hearts. I heard about their deep hunger for God, and that they had nothing to give without drawing life straight from God. I heard about how they were seeing Him pour out life in supernatural, beautiful ways to people they minister to. There was peace in their eyes and it felt like life was seeping out of the baseboards and into my shoes.

From that day forward, deep in my gut something has been drawing me to Tierra Nueva. The first time I came to soaking prayer I wept the entire two hours. It was the most overwhelming time of restoration and receiving God’s delight in me that I’ve ever experienced. As I practice lying on the floor not “doing” anything but receiving from God, I feel the heaviness, the duty, the rules and the strivings crumble away.

For the first time in my life I am desperately hungry for God. There’s something strangely wonderful about being a major mess up. It’s freed me from thinking I have any chance of measuring up! This place of desperation and hunger has opened me up to receiving outpourings of the Holy Spirit, letting him fill me up, knock me over, feed my soul, speak words for my life or for others, and give life to the scripture. I feel a bit like a bewildered child, but I know now what an incredibly GOOD Father I have. I am so thankful He has lead me to this Tierra Nueva community where we receive love, listen for the Father’s voice and minister out of a place of rest and empowerment by the Holy Spirit.

Roger Capron, Co-Director, Family Support Center
Spring 2006

Last month, my friend Juan came by the Family Support Center to say “hi” and get some of his belongings. We had helped Juan make bail so he could get back to work and fight his criminal case from outside the jail, where he had been incarcerated for over nine months.

Juan has a troubled past, doing tours of places like Federal Prison in Texas to the local county jail in Mount Vernon. He’s a rough-looking dude with tattoos all over his body, including a massive one on his back indicating his association with La eMe (the Mexican Mafia).

Juan’s two nephews, Miguel and Pedro, remained in the car outside the Family Support Center, reluctant to come into “the church,” as many of our gang brothers refer to Tierra Nueva. But Bob Ekblad arrived and noticed the two guys in their car. He invited them into the Center to relax and visit. As they recounted later, they didn’t intend to come in, but they felt as if they heard a voice beckoning them inside.

As we offered to pray for Juan, he wanted us to pray for his two young gang-banger nephews. “I don’t want them to get into trouble, the way I have,” he said. The group of us—Bob, me, Troy, Mike (a pastor from Mukilteo Presbyterian) and Lolito (from Honduras)—offered to pray. Surprisingly, the two nephews agreed, and got down on their knees—the only way they knew to receive prayer.

Bob invited the Holy Spirit to come, and Juan started weeping. Then he began to pray. His nephew, Pedro, had tears streaming down his face, sobbing uncontrollably for the next half-hour. Lolito and I kept our hands on Pedro while Bob laid hands on Miguel, who in a matter of minutes was crying, too!

It was a scene none of us Tierra Nueva folks would’ve imagined—half our staff laying hands on three weeping gangsters, their tears soaked up by the indoor-outdoor carpet in the Center.

Suddenly I felt led to invite everyone into the sanctuary to share Communion together. Pedro protested, because he had never received his first communion in the Roman Catholic Church. All of us assured him that all are invited at this table of Christ, especially him! We are all in desperate need of the body and blood of Christ, and Jesus refuses no one. This convinced him.

We gathered in a circle before the Cross of the Marginalized from El Salvador in the corner of the room. By this time, Pastor Eduardo had joined us, and together we said the Communion prayer. God provided the bread—which we rarely have on hand mid-week—but a loaf had arrived as a donation only the day before. After sharing the bread and wine, we closed with Our Father.

All three men commented on how incredibly touched they were—how they really felt God present with them. What I can say is this: I’ve been desiring for God to touch hearts in a powerful way—but I never expected it to look like it did that morning!