New opportunity

Hello everyone, I pray all is well with you and your families. WE are doing very well here in Mexico. We have been asked to speak to a group of teenagers in a school on Friday. It will be the students Ross is going to be teaching english to next school year. The ages will be from 12-15yrs old. We were asked to share about ourselves and whatever else the Lord puts on our hearts. We are very excited about this! We have been praying for an opportunity like this. We are also going to be starting a prayer group at our home. We have people that come to our house often and ask us how to get closer to God. I know that we don't always have the right answers to many things but we have the best answer for this question (PRAYER)!! We want our generation to be known as a praying generation and not just for mooching. Prayer is the fastest connection to God. Unfortunately this is the thing that many christians don't do. If they do do it they usually are asking God for something or only allowing a one way conversaion about themselves. They never ask how His heart is or about His opinon. We have been teaching people here that prayer is like a conversation with on of your best friends. You can't always be asking things from a friend, you also have to listen and help that friend out. What makes a true relationship? Here is a website that can answer this question for you. www.wikihow.com/Be-a-Good-Friend We are truly so happy here. It makes us even happier knowing our daughters love it here also. Of course, we have days that we wish we could see our families and give them hugs and kisses but God has been faithful to us in this area. We know that God is watching over our families and is protecting them. One thing God taught me along time ago is to tell your loved ones that you love them every time you leave them. Even if it is just a overnight stay. I know my family knows that I love with much of my heart because I have learned to do this. I hope that you guys will also do this and if there is anything that hinders you from telling them this (something unforgiven) please pray that GOd will show you it. Because, the bible tells us in matthew 6:5-15 and Mark 11:22-26 that if we don't forgive then God will also not forgive us our sins. WOW I am goig to head out now. We have to start working on our presentation for the school. Peace AMANDA

A way to change your heart

Here is a sermon that I heard that I think many of you who are reading this can change your heart. This man (Mike Bickle) is from the house of prayer in Kansas City. He is a great preacher and I know he is not is it for himself like many others out there. Please take the time for God and sit and listen to this sermon. It is broken up in two, twenty minute sermons on youtube. The "one thing" is the conference title 2005. Are you ready to hear how your heart can be radicaly changed? Amanda

part 1



(if you cannot see the video, right click and copy and
paste this link into your webbrowser to watch)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PZvPVWE4gDY

part 2



(right click and copy this link into your browser if you have problems)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZFjO0x9rH_o

A email from a friend

>> A TEENAGER'S VIEW OF HEAVEN 17-year-old Brian
>> Moore had only a short time to write something for a
>> class. The subject was what Heaven was like. 'I wowed
>> 'em,' he later told his father, Bruce. 'It's a killer.
>> It's the bomb. It's the best thing I ever wrote..'
>>
>> It also was the last. Brian Moore died May 27,
>> 1997, the day after Memorial Day. He was driving home
>> from a friend's house when his car went off Bulen-Pierce
>> Road in Pickaway County and struck a utility pole. He
>> emerged from the wreck unharmed but stepped on a downed
>> power line and was electrocuted. The Moores framed a copy
>> of Brian's essay and hung it among the family portraits
>> in the living room. 'I think God used him to make a
>> point. I think we were meant to find it and make
>> something out of it,' Mrs. Moore said of the essay. She
>> and her husband want to share their son's vision of life
>> after death. 'I'm happy for Brian. I know he's in heaven.
>> I know I'll see him.'
>>
>>
>>
>> Brian's Essay: The Room... In that place
>> between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the
>> room. There were no distinguishing features except for
>> the one wall covered with small index card files. They
>> were like the ones in libraries that list titles by
>> author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files,
>> which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly
>> endless in either direction, had very different headings.
>> As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my
>> attention was one that read 'Girls I have liked.' I
>> opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly
>> shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names
>> written on each one. And then without being told, I knew
>> exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small
>> files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were
>> written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in
>> a detail my memory couldn't match. A sense of wonder and
>> curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within m
> e as I began randomly opening files and exploring their
> content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a
> sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look
> over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. A file
> named 'Friends' was next to one marked 'Friends I have
> betrayed.' The titles ranged from the mundane to the
> outright weird 'Books I Have Read,' 'Lies I Have Told,'
> 'Comfort I have Given,' 'Jokes I Have Laughed at ' Some
> were almost hilarious in their exactness: 'Things I've
> yelled at my brothers.' Others I couldn't laugh at:
> 'Things I Have Done in My Anger', 'Things I Have Muttered
> Under My Breath at My Parents.' I never ceased to be
> surprised by the contents. Often there were many more
> cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I ! hoped. I
> was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had
> lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my
> years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of
> cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was w
> ritten in my own handwriting. Each signed with my
> signature. When I
> pulled out the file marked 'TV Shows I have watched', I
> realized the files grew to contain their contents. The
> cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three
> yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it,
> shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by
> the vast time I knew that file represented. When I came to
> a file marked 'Lustful Thoughts,' I felt a chill run
> through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not
> willing to test its size and drew out a card. I shuddered
> at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a
> moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on
> me. One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see
> these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to
> destroy them!' In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its
> size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the
> cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it
> on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became
> desperate and pulled out a card,
> only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear
> it. Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to
> its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out
> a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it.. The title
> bore 'People I Have Shared the Gospel With.' The handle
> was brighter than those around it,seemed newer, almost
> unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more
> than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count
> the cards it contained on one hand. And then the tears
> came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They
> started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my
> knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the
> overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves
> swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No ! one must ever, ever
> know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key. But
> then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not
> Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly
> as He began to open the files
> and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response.
> And in th
> e moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw
> a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go
> to the wor st boxes. Why did He have to read every one?
> Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room.
> He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity
> that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face
> with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and
> put His arm around me. He could have said so many things.
> But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me. Then He
> got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at
> one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one,
> began to sign His name over mine on each card. 'No!' I
> shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was 'No,
> no,' as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be
> on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich,
> so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was
> written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He
> smiled a sad smil
> e and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever
> understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant
> it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to
> my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, 'It
> is finished.' I stood up, and He led me out of the room.
> There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to
> be written! . 'I can do all things through Christ who
> strengthens me. '-Phil. 4:13 'For God so loved the world
> that He gave His only son, that whoever believes in Him
> shall not perish but have eternal life.'

Thank you Jesus for your unselfish love and grace!

Helllo from the Johnston's home in Mexico City

Hello everyone, it has been a crazy week. There has been so much happen since I last blogged. Our financial paper work is well on its way for us to stay and live in Mexico. We will be both working in the school teaching english. Our paper work should be summitted this coming week. This is wonderful because if it would not have been in before June 28 then we would have had to leave the country and try to return again. We have been really working on our spanish lately also. We have had our teachers coming in the mornings and then also in the night we have another teacher come over and help us out. It has been going wonderful. At times a little frustrating but really good. Our girls are now getting better. Everyone has had a run with a crazy cold here. Our bodies are starting to get us to the pollution here. Our lungs are being nicer to us know and our allergies are not so bad. We also heared about some medicne for my ezema around my eyes. This has been the most painful thing to get us to here. I thought if I left North Dakotas cold weather that it would help with my ezema, but I forgot about the pollution. I am sure thankful for the medicated lotion that I found. Our mentors have left on furlough and will be gone from Mexico for two months. We have a lot ahead of us in these two months. Our girls will be done with school in one month. In July we are going to a little indian village for two weeks. We will be staying with some Bethany missionaries that live there. Also we are helping with and working with the childrens pastors for the church. We are going to be doing a week long childrens summer bible camp in July. I could continue to go on and on but I need to ask all my brothers and sisters in the Lord to please be praying for my father (Amanda). He had a slight stroke on Wednesday. Please be praying for a fast and healthy recovery. I thank God for giving my father a second chance at life. I also pray that my dad would see the reason for this second chance. Many blessing to all! Amanda