We shall mount up with wings as eagles.....
Isaiah 40:31
Isaiah 40:31
" Praise the Lord for that which He is about to do! "
River Flow Ministry/Foundation
This is Wayne Wolf, all the way from
North Bend, Oregon! He has been called into the Ministry here in the
Philippines. He has been a Sabbath Keeper for many years and recently
found himself called to this far away place, to serve those who have a
deep need and hunger for God. He entitled this photo, "Never too old
to serve" which just goes to show how young at heart he is and
dedicated to the work of the Lord.
~ If you would like to contact Brother Wolf, here is his contact information ~
~ River Flow Foundation/Ministry ~
Wayne W. Wolf/Founder
798 Purok -8- POB Sulop
8009 Davaro Del Sur
Philippines
Email: river_flow1934@yahoo.com
Cell# +639107049977
International Phone# 1-541- 756-2884
Fax: (082) 299-4347
~ On our way to Sabbath in the Village and a day of food sharing ~
~ If you would like to contact Brother Wolf, here is his contact information ~
~ River Flow Foundation/Ministry ~
Wayne W. Wolf/Founder
798 Purok -8- POB Sulop
8009 Davaro Del Sur
Philippines
Email: river_flow1934@yahoo.com
Cell# +639107049977
International Phone# 1-541- 756-2884
Fax: (082) 299-4347
~ This is the start of their Sabbath day, but many more showed up ~
~ River Flow Foundation/Ministry breaking ground for a new church site ~
The Cost of Color
Brother
Wayne and his group are going to begin breaking ground on the Church
site very soon. The previous site has been taken back by the owner and
so the Lord has led Brother Wayne and his group to a new piece of
property (5 acres, I believe) This new site will include a home for
Brother Wayne, a Church, a teaching school, a medical clinic, a
"Goodwill" type store and additional facilities for others to live in
that will be working with him in the ministry.
I will upload more information and photos has they become available to me. Please pray for them as they go forward into a dark world with the Light of Jesus. Brother Wayne sent the following story....enjoy!
I will upload more information and photos has they become available to me. Please pray for them as they go forward into a dark world with the Light of Jesus. Brother Wayne sent the following story....enjoy!
The Cost of Color
It was a dark, overcrowded prison cell packed with the sweating, heaving
tattooed bodies of the most wicked-looking criminals you could imagine.
tattooed bodies of the most wicked-looking criminals you could imagine.
I could not see Hakim, the young kid I had come to rescue from this harsh
place of human misery and degradation if ever there was one. Then in the
dark corner near the stinking hole that served as a toilet, I saw the large
staring eyes of this shrunken figure. He was terrified. I looked through the
bars, the other prisoners stirred and shouted at me for food, cigarettes,
money and drinks.
I motioned to the guard, he removed the padlock and Joan slid back the bolt
with a loud clang. "Hakim, come out!" the guard shouted. The boy looked up fearful. He stood on wobbly legs, a skinny skeletal body like a prisoner from Auschwitz, a Lazarus from the grave.
He took a faltering step and almost fell over. He was weak, emaciated, half-
starved and naked, he had nothing but cotton shorts. The specter of TB
was all over him like a shroud of death, like so many of the others we rescued.
He was poverty itself. We guided him out the cell gate, down the crowded
corridor to the warden's office and his quivering hand signed the release
paper. He was free.
A precious human life was saved, a cast away, unwanted, alone with his
dark skin, Negroid hair and indigenous features, he was low caste. Now he
was saved from certain death. "I came to bring freedom to the captives",
Jesus said, and so we all should too and meet Him right there in the likes of
the kid with the scabies and the hollowed-out eyes. "I tell you the truth,
whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for
me."
The gate clanged shut, he slowly walked free that day in March, out into the blinding, scorching sun, clutching a plastic bag with a dirty T-shirt in it -
his only possession. I thought once again of all the useless surplus stuff I had,
too much and promised heaven I would finally give it away.
The first stop was for food. Hakim was slow to eat, too weak to chew the first
bit of chicken he had eaten in years. The boy looked around him hardly
believing he was out of the cells.
It had been ten months without a visitor, ten months with only two short
trips to the court. One to be arranged for a crime he didn't know, and
although he said he was 15 years old, he couldn't prove it and was marked
an adult. The second time in court was to learn that there was no evidence
or witness or a complaint to accuse him. But he was still sent back to
the brutality of the prison and was forgotten.
He was at the bottom of the pile in the jail since he was a dark-faced
indigenous tribal person, a Muslim from war-ravaged Mindanao.
Even an enemy and migrant in a foreign land you might say. His village
had been burnt, the people fled the fighting and Hakim was taken by
relatives on a rusty old ship filled with war refugees and they got separated
when the ship hit a reef and many drowned.
He got to Manila and was begging on the streets when he was picked up by
the police and charged with theft. It was the usual frame-up so they could
claim they had solved a crime and get a reward and a step closer to their
arrest quota and promotion. This boy was the most forgotten and
discriminated of all. No doors would ever have opened for him unless Mina,
Joan and Sheila had undone the bolt and led him out to freedom.
As the days passed, he slowly emerged from the ten-month depression. But
the affirmation, acceptance, and friendship of the other boys in the
PREDA Dawn Home gave him trust and the small smile grew bigger.
He responded to the medicine and the food and the good sleep in the cool
shade of the mango tree. He healed.
Today he is a college student.
****I have also experienced this when I visited the childrens' prisons, here in the Philippines!
Just a short note to let all know that we all truly in need of those that can help us here in the Philippines.
We appreciate your Prayers and if possible, get in touch with someone that is willing to help us, help the children.
Thanking you in advance. God Bless you and be with you.
Wayne W. Wolf/Founder
River Flow Foundation
dark corner near the stinking hole that served as a toilet, I saw the large
staring eyes of this shrunken figure. He was terrified. I looked through the
bars, the other prisoners stirred and shouted at me for food, cigarettes,
money and drinks.
I motioned to the guard, he removed the padlock and Joan slid back the bolt
with a loud clang. "Hakim, come out!" the guard shouted. The boy looked up fearful. He stood on wobbly legs, a skinny skeletal body like a prisoner from Auschwitz, a Lazarus from the grave.
He took a faltering step and almost fell over. He was weak, emaciated, half-
starved and naked, he had nothing but cotton shorts. The specter of TB
was all over him like a shroud of death, like so many of the others we rescued.
He was poverty itself. We guided him out the cell gate, down the crowded
corridor to the warden's office and his quivering hand signed the release
paper. He was free.
A precious human life was saved, a cast away, unwanted, alone with his
dark skin, Negroid hair and indigenous features, he was low caste. Now he
was saved from certain death. "I came to bring freedom to the captives",
Jesus said, and so we all should too and meet Him right there in the likes of
the kid with the scabies and the hollowed-out eyes. "I tell you the truth,
whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for
me."
The gate clanged shut, he slowly walked free that day in March, out into the blinding, scorching sun, clutching a plastic bag with a dirty T-shirt in it -
his only possession. I thought once again of all the useless surplus stuff I had,
too much and promised heaven I would finally give it away.
The first stop was for food. Hakim was slow to eat, too weak to chew the first
bit of chicken he had eaten in years. The boy looked around him hardly
believing he was out of the cells.
It had been ten months without a visitor, ten months with only two short
trips to the court. One to be arranged for a crime he didn't know, and
although he said he was 15 years old, he couldn't prove it and was marked
an adult. The second time in court was to learn that there was no evidence
or witness or a complaint to accuse him. But he was still sent back to
the brutality of the prison and was forgotten.
He was at the bottom of the pile in the jail since he was a dark-faced
indigenous tribal person, a Muslim from war-ravaged Mindanao.
Even an enemy and migrant in a foreign land you might say. His village
had been burnt, the people fled the fighting and Hakim was taken by
relatives on a rusty old ship filled with war refugees and they got separated
when the ship hit a reef and many drowned.
He got to Manila and was begging on the streets when he was picked up by
the police and charged with theft. It was the usual frame-up so they could
claim they had solved a crime and get a reward and a step closer to their
arrest quota and promotion. This boy was the most forgotten and
discriminated of all. No doors would ever have opened for him unless Mina,
Joan and Sheila had undone the bolt and led him out to freedom.
As the days passed, he slowly emerged from the ten-month depression. But
the affirmation, acceptance, and friendship of the other boys in the
PREDA Dawn Home gave him trust and the small smile grew bigger.
He responded to the medicine and the food and the good sleep in the cool
shade of the mango tree. He healed.
Today he is a college student.
****I have also experienced this when I visited the childrens' prisons, here in the Philippines!
Just a short note to let all know that we all truly in need of those that can help us here in the Philippines.
We appreciate your Prayers and if possible, get in touch with someone that is willing to help us, help the children.
Thanking you in advance. God Bless you and be with you.
Wayne W. Wolf/Founder
River Flow Foundation
