Megan & The Master: A God Who Speaks Their Language
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Many people have asked me about my Wycliffe ministry, how I ended up working with Wycliffe, and what I'm doing in Papua New Guinea. So, per your requests, I've put together a video to share about what I do and to answer some of your questions.
This video will give you a little bit of a window into my Wycliffe ministry to the people of Papua New Guinea and why I'm passionate about people having access to God's Word in a language that speaks to their heart.
Please feel free to share this video with friends, and don't hesitate to contact me via
My PNG family and I once we arrived in Jiwaka Fog rolled around us in the thin light of dawn. We waited, engine idling, on the side of the road just past the large billboard welcoming us to Jiwaka province. We had arrived. Across two provincial lines, lots of bumpy road and tanked up with roadside three-in-one coffee we had trekked to come and visit my Papua New Guinean brother Michael's family for a very special occasion. Michael's younger brother and his wife had a new baby and this weekend they were going to have a baby naming ceremony, a celebration that's observed in only a few provinces in Papua New Guinea (PNG). I had never been to a baby naming ceremony, so I was excited to see what this ceremony would be like and to see what this new province, and its unique culture, would be like. The sun stretched and began to push away the rumpled coverlet of fog, revealing a beautiful landscape of steep mountains, fields packed with tight, neat te
Every night at twilight for the last month you could hear it, the droning hymn. The steady hum of a beehive and the crackle of electricity all rolled into one deep thrum. It sizzled from every tree and buzzed from the moment the sun began to think about laying down for the night, until he covered his shining head in a mantle of deep black. I hadn’t heard it before, or at least I didn’t remember it, and it puzzled me until I started to pay attention. It wasn’t a beehive or an electrical current. Instead, it was the steady, rhythmic thrum of the hard-sided, armored wings of a beetle called the muna beetle*. It’s a brown beetle about the length of your thumb, chubby and winged, and apparently tasty. And, as I asked my friends about it, they really only come around during this time of year. It made me think, this hymn of the muna beetle, about rhythms and seasons. A friend and I were talking the other day about how, when we first arrived here, we tried to make sense of the seasons in thi
John 15:1-2 The Vine and the Branches “I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful." Psalms 127:1 Unless the LORD builds the house, the builders labor in vain. Unless the LORD watches over the city, the guards stand watch in vain. Philippians 1:6 being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. * Have you ever planted a garden or watched a farmer clear his fields in preparation for the sowing season? Recently I walked up the steps of my garden and noticed that my gardener had cleared out a huge swath of decorative plants. I remember the first time she did this. I was appalled! She had just reduced a lush landscape to bare earth. I remember feeling horrified and desolate. However, as I watched over the next few months, the beautiful plants slowly began to retur
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