To Sanford, With Love--A Service Of Memory

Family members and friends of my oldest and only remaining brother Sanford gathered for a memorable service in his memory Saturday at Pilgrim Fellowship Church, located next to the Augusta County farm where all nine of us siblings grew up.

The songs for the service were ones Sanford had chosen for the funeral he and Martha had planned, which was to be in both Spanish and in English. But due to Covid regulations in Costa Rica his burial had to be within 24-hours of his death, so the funeral service was held the next day and was in Spanish only. All of their ten children, half of whom live in the states, were blessed to be present for his passing and for the memorial service that was live streamed for all of us unable to attend.

Since so many of us couldn't be present for that service we planned a celebration of life here that was in turn live streamed to Martha and others across the states and in Central America.

The first hymn Lord Speak to Me is one Sanford recalled my having led at his ordination service in September of 1960. He wanted to mark the beginning and ending of his ministry with this prayer hymn, and had requested I lead it.

The second one, Great is Thy Faithfulness, was sung in connection with Sanford's experience in the hospital ten years ago following a severe heart attack. After his first night he reported having been blessed by a group of strangers who came into his room and sang this beloved hymn for him. When he inquired of Martha the next morning as to who the singers were, she assured him no one had been there. So was it just a dream? A vision? A choir of angels? Saturday we became that choir to sing it in his memory.

Pastor Johnny Miller of Minerva, Ohio, read a scripture, Ephesians 2:1-10, that Sanford, at 91, with Martha's patient help, had memorized not long before his death, a special challenge since he could no longer see to read the text. 

Miller recalled visiting in Sanford's home with his father when he was only 15 years old and recalling their having talked about the idea of evangelization by colonization in a country like Costa Rica, a dream to which my brother devoted most of his adult life. Two of the Miller's children later married into Sanford and Martha's family.

A highlight of the service was having Hosea Troyer, administrator of Faith Mission Home, a residential training school for the mentally handicapped, share the story of Sanford's vision for that work and for his role as the Home's first administrator. Many of us were moved to tears by the inspirational choir of staff and students from Mission Home who sang for us.

The remainder of the service and at the meal that followed was one of sharing a multitude of memories and tributes from friends and family, followed by members of his extended family singing a song Sanford had composed years earlier.

Unforgettable.

                         Order of Service

“Lord Speak to Me” 

“Great is Thy Faithfulness”

Scripture meditation and Prayer ................... Johnny Miller

Mission Home Memories c/o Hosea Troyer, with staff and

students from Faith Mission Home

“King of My Life”

“Each Step I Take” 

Open mic sharing of memories and blessings

"Strangers and Pilgrims"..........composed by Sanford

“There is a Land of Pure Delight” #596...Isaac Watts

Closing comments and prayer ....................... Joe Peachey

My Brother Sanford 6/15/1930 to 2/27/2022: Truly Well Done, Good And Faithful Servant

 

Eli, Sanford and I at a family reunion a decade ago, three brothers united
by a common faith, a common calling and a common love for each other.

It was around noon Sunday when we got the news that my oldest brother, at 91, had breathed his last, surrounded by his beloved Martha and their grown children singing and praying him home. 

Sanford, nine years older than I, was one of the most formative and positive influences in my young life, and continued to be an admired mentor and model to me and to multitudes of others whose lives he touched.

I remember well the transformation I witnessed when Sanford, as a rebellious and angry teenager, experienced an amazing grace that turned his life completely around. He became one of my heroes, and when I had my own similar experience of grace as a 14-year-old, he was the first person with whom I shared my less dramatic conversion.

Sanford became a pioneer church planter who with his growing young family moved to Costa Rica over 50 years ago as a self supporting missionary. There he and a core group of fellow immigrants from the US mastered the Spanish language and were instrumental in helping establish numerous Anabaptist congregations in Costa Rica and Nicaragua. Three of his grown sons are ministers in these congregations along with many other native Central American pastors. 

Another major legacy of these grass roots and God-blessed efforts is a publishing venture in Petal that produces Christian literature for Spanish readers all over Central and South America, including La Torche, a monthly publication that reaches thousands.

Of course I owe so much to so many others as well, including a great debt to my parents, Ben and Mary, plus all of my older siblings who have blessed and enriched my life beyond measure. Now only I and my next older sister remain. And while the three of us brothers became ordained ministers, all of my siblings have ministered to me in countless ways, and each who has passed has left a hole in my soul.

Here is Sanford's son Philip's account of my brother's last moments:

We began to sing again and he seemed to be enjoying it... (but) his breathing was getting more shallow and rapid. So I checked his oxygen levels again and they were all over the map. I tried to check his pulse but couldn't find any. By then we all saw that his time had come and we gathered around him. The oximeter suddenly went totally blank. He began to breath harder, then gave 3 or 4 hard gasps and his body relaxed. It was 12 o'clock sharp. Even in death Dad was on time.

It was such a sacred moment for all of us. Mom was sitting beside him, holding his hand. He suddenly looked so peaceful, and we all had such a sensation of peace and joy. God seemed so very near. Victory at last! At the moment, there was almost no feeling of sadness; just sacred joy. Don't get me wrong, the separation and emptiness are also there. But the overriding attitude is of joy. Mom was very much at peace. 

Sanford and Martha first settled in Arenal, CR, where Sanford led the first Anabaptist congregation established there. They and others later later moved and expanded their work to the eastern part of Costa Rica. While some of the above churches remain small, most are still active.

My Nearly 90-Year-Old Brother's Final Sermon

Sanford brought his last message
March 8. (photo by Duane Nisly)

My oldest brother Sanford, a minister and a major influence on my life, recently offered to preach what he said would likely be his last sermon.

At 89, Sanford is almost blind and uses a walker, but felt compelled to share some heartfelt words of testimony and final blessings with his congregation.

After going through a time of rebellion as a teenager, Sanford became a dramatically transformed person, one I always looked up to and admired, along with my next older brother Eli and my six older sisters. And together we warmly welcomed and loved our younger adopted sister Mary Beth.

My devout parents saw each of their sons ordained to the ministry, and were supportive of Sanford and his family's move to Costa Rica in 1968 as self-supported missionaries, where they have lived and served ever since. (Fannie Mae, the only unmarried one in the family, also served abroad as a nurse-midwife in Belize and in Paraguay, another great blessing to my life.)

When I recently spoke by phone with Sanford, retired with his faithful wife Martha, he told me about his offer to preach a last sermon at one of the Costa Rican churches he had helped establish. I immediately asked if I could have a translated transcript of his message when he gave it--delivered without benefit of any notes or his being able to even read from his well worn Spanish Bible.

Yesterday I got a copy of his message, translated by his son-in-law Duane Nisly, one I found very moving. 

Here are some excerpts:

     Greetings in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. I expect this to be my last message to God’s people. I hope you will not be disappointed in what you hear... The truth is that I have a great love for the church and for the future of the church. 

     One of the greatest blessings we have in the Bible, or promises that we have from our Lord, is found in Matthew 28 in the last part of verse 20, where Jesus said, “Lo. I am with you always, even unto the end of the world”. What more could we want, that He be with us till the end of the world! 

     But did you notice that there are certain requirements that He gives before He gives these promises? For example, He says, “Go,” well actually he first says, “All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth.” And then He says "Go ye therefore, [and make disciples of all nations], baptizing them in the name of the Father, and the Son, and of the Holy Ghost; teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you.” Here we have the requirements to be able to receive the promise of being with us till the end of the world...

Sanford concluded his message with the following:

     May God bless you richly. I wanted this to be a message of encouragement and not of discouragement. 

     I had to think of the words of John, the elder who wrote the epistles of John. This elder of 70 years or so, when he wrote the first letter, and then came to the end of that letter, in the last chapter, said, “We know that we are of God in that all the world lieth in wickedness.” 

     All the world lieth in wickedness. The enemy tries to deceive and make people feel comfortable in their wickedness. Mark, could you find the verses in 1 John 5:19-21 and read them so everyone can hear? [Mark, one of his sons, reads the Scripture] 

     This is what I was interested in, that John, in his old age, in closing his letter, says, “Little children, keep yourselves from idols.” And that is what I want to leave with all of you. Keep yourselves from idols. Because they will disappoint, and put us in danger of losing eternal life... 

     Pardon me, I know this has not been done well, and should have had better preparation, but may God be glorified. I would like to encourage you. 

     May God bless you. I told the Lord that I would only say tonight what he would bring my to my mind. I really love a verse of song, “The dearest idol I have known, whate'er that idol be, Help me that idol to dethrone, and worship only thee.”

     May God bless you. ¡Dios te bendiga!

     That is all I have.

And may God bless you, my dear brother, for all the ways you have blessed and enriched the lives of everyone around you. You and Martha are deeply loved.

A Media Fast, A Family Feast

With Sanford and Martha (photo by Brad)

My son Brad and I just returned from visiting my oldest brother Sanford and his good wife Martha in Costa Rica on the occasion of their family reunion at Pital de San Carlos. It was a privilege to have been invited to schedule this trip to coincide with all ten of their children and spouses being together, five of them also from the US and five from other locations in Nicaragua and Costa Rica.

I'm so glad to be back safely with Alma Jean, who couldn't be with me (due to a combination of factors, including her not being able to get a passport in time), but she urged me to take in this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be with my brother and his entire family.

Each of the three men in our family is an ordained minister, and Sanford and Martha moved to Costa Rica with their young family in the late 60's as a part of a church planting effort which has since resulted in the establishment of a dozen indigenous Anabaptist congregations and a growing publishing effort producing Spanish literature for people all over Central and South America.

I have always greatly admired my brothers, and was worried about Sanford's health when he experienced a serious heart condition several years ago. Our younger adopted sister perishing in a fire in December added to my urgency in wanting to go spend some time with Sanford and Martha, who were unable to attend the memorial service.

Then my dear oldest sister Lovina died Thursday at 4 pm after a series of strokes. I got to spend some priceless time with her Wednesday evening and then early Thursday morning before catching my Roanoke flight to Charlotte and to San Jose, but am so sad about not being able to have been at her memorial service Sunday.

Meanwhile, five unforgettable days with loved ones and without all of the stresses of work, constant news and other media distractions--and combined with a slower paced life in beautiful rural Costa Rica--felt like a taste of paradise.

More later!

Sanford and Martha and their ten children (from youngest to oldest) at their reunion in Costa Rica Saturday

Brothers

Eli, Sanford, Me

"You don't choose your family. They are God's gift to you, 
as you are to them."

- Archbishop Desmond Tutu

It was a joy being at a family reunion Saturday that my brother Sanford and his wife Martha, who live in Costa Rica, were able to attend. In all there were some 150 people gathered, representing four generations of descendants and in-laws of our late parents, Ben and Mary Yoder. All eight of us remaining siblings were present, most with at least some of our offspring. An older sister, Lucy, who died in 2003, was represented by her husband and three of their daughters.

After our meal and some picture-taking we had an open mic time to share stories, reminiscences and appreciations, clearly one the best family reunion experiences I can remember. I was again impressed by what a loving, interesting clan I’m privileged to be a part of. I was especially moved at the sight of Ernest and oldest sister Lovina's family gathered for their picture. There must have been over fifty of their descendants with them, with Ernest, nearly blind, in an overstuffed chair beside Lovina, his petite bride of 65 years, surrounded by nothing but love and blessed ties that bind. A beautiful sight.

I was of course especially glad to see Sanford, he and brother Eli having been major positive influences on my life. Eli was the brother with whom I shared the most, he being the closest to my age (less than five years older) and considerably wiser than I, and the namesake of our grandfather Eli Nisly, a much loved Amish minister and bishop. My brother's one and only Ruth is a gem of a person, and she and Eli have an enviably happy marriage.

Sanford, nine years older than I, went through a time of open rebellion as a teenager that caused a lot of grief for my parents and for all of us. Then at age eighteen he experienced a dramatic conversion that led to his transformation into the minister and church planter he later became. He and his beloved Martha have been role models I’ve always looked up to.

Each of us three sons is an ordained minister, following in the footsteps of our grandfather Nisly. While we don’t see eye to eye on everything, and don’t get together as often as we’d like, there is still an inseparable bond between us.

When Sanford suffered a serious heart attack several months ago, Eli and I immediately made plans to go to Costa Rica to see him, hoping to spend time with him before his scheduled bypass surgery. Then a virtual miracle happened, one we have all celebrated as an answer to prayer. He improved so much that his doctor no longer recommended surgery, and gave them the go ahead to come to the States to see their four married children and families and the rest of us in the US.

Meanwhile, Eli and I, and possibly my second oldest sister Esther (now widowed), are now hoping to make the trip to Costa Rica and Nicaragua to see Sanfords and their sons, daughters and families in early spring.

My Alma Jean, while choosing not to make the journey herself, is encouraging me to go on this family pilgrimage, similar to one Eli and I made to Central America soon after our mother died.

Ah, family. What would we be without it?

Oldest Brother Writes About Race 60 Years Ago

One of my two favorite brothers.

At the height of the racial conflicts following the 1954 Brown v. the Board of Education decision, my brother Sanford had the following piece published in the English section of the October 15, 1957, Amish Mennonite publication, Herald der Wahrheit (Herald of Truth). For someone who grew up in a deeply segregated state (Virginia), he was clearly ahead of his time, and what he says is very relevant for the racial animosity that rears its ugly head today. 

Sanford was 27 when he wrote this piece, which I have edited slightly for brevity. 

Segregation or Integration?

Sanford Yoder 10/15/57

The national and possibly the international spotlight is on the desegregation contention in Little Rock (Arkansas), Nashville (Tennessee), and other hotspots in the South. In Little Rock, Governor Orval Faubus set National Guard troops around Central High School, a school of 2000, to keep Negro pupils, who had been told by the school board to enroll there, from entering, and thus has gone directly against the Federal Court order, which creates a serious national problem. In Nashville a large elementary school was dynamited by segregationists because one colored child was enrolled in the first grade.

Feelings seem to be mounting, creating mobs bent on violence, manifested in throwing rocks, jeering, mocking and spitting on passing Negroes. This is a sad state of affairs. One thing commendable in this whole situation is the spirit of humility which the Negroes as a rule have manifested in the face of these harassments, and in some cases, cruelty.

Who is right, Governor Faubus or Judge Davies of the Federal Court? those who want integration or the segregationists? the North or the South? the white or the colored? On which side are we?

We as Christians should not be involved in civil conflicts... It is up to the powers ordained of God for the purpose of maintaining law and order in the world to settle this, and not the church (Romans 13:1-4).

But some of us may have allowed this unregenerate world to influence us into believing that the colored race is inferior to the white and therefore should not be permitted an equal fellowship with us.

And while the Word of God very emphatically teaches that Christians are to have "no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness..." it does not mention the race of people. We should have no more to do with the evil deeds of a white man than a colored man, and should have as much to do with, and be as concerned about, an unregenerate colored man as if he were white, Indian or Chinese.

Separation of the church and the world must always be maintained... But the Bible certainly does not teach segregation of the races in God's family. Christians of all races are one in Christ, who has bought us all with the same price, his own precious blood... "Wherefore there is neither Greek or Jew, circumcision or uncircumcision, Barbarian, Scythian, bond nor free; but Christ is all, and in all." (Colossians 3:11)

Our Anabaptist forefathers believed this, as we can see by our 1632 Confession of Faith, which was written in the face of persecution and hardships. We still accept it because it is based on the inspired Word of God. Article V. states, "...he has caused this Testament ...to be proclaimed in his name, through his beloved apostles, messengers and servants... to all nations people and tongues... that all men without distinction, if they are obedient, by faith... are his children and rightful heirs."

We are so thankful for the all-inclusiveness of the Gospel of Christ, because, were it not so, we too would no doubt be excluded.

We do not hold to this belief just because the United States Supreme Court in 1954 ruled that segregation of the races is unconstitutional and made integration the law of the land (although we do believe in respecting the laws of the land), but we believe it because it is the message of the gospel of Christ. The apostle Peter, in his experience on the housetop of Simon the tanner, was shown this truth in a vision, "What God hath cleansed, that call not thou common." (Acts 10:15)

Some are afraid of what this attitude will do to our witness to the world. Beloved, this love for everyone, white, black, red, yellow, and even those who don't believe this, is our witness to a world filled with hatred and prejudice.

Woodberry Forest, Virginia

************************************

For the past five decades Sanford and his wife Martha have been self-supporting church planters in Costa Rica. At 87, Sanford still writes an occasional piece for the La Antorcha de la Verdad (The Torch of Truth), distributed widely over Central and South America, and for a book of daily devotional readings published here in the states, Beside the Still Waters.

Some Potholes On The Road To Paradise

Along the Costa Rican Continental Divide

Last Wednesday I left on the first leg of a long awaited journey to see my aging brother Sanford, 85, and his wonderful wife Martha, in beautiful and balmy northern Costa Rica. They moved there in 1968, raised all ten of their children there and were having a family reunion with each of the ten present, an event to which I was invited to share some family stories and to talk about our younger sister and husband's untimely deaths in December. Sanford had been unable to attend their memorial service.

My brother Sanford's home

My original plan had been to depart for the Roanoke airport early on Thursday to catch my 8:30 am American flight to San Jose (via Charlotte, where our son Brad was scheduled to meet me from Pittsburgh). Then just days before I learned that my sister Lovina's condition was worsening following a recent stroke, which had me debating whether I should even go. After some conversations with my wife and other family members, I decided to leave the afternoon before and spend the evening by Lovina's bed at their home in rural Campbell County, just south of Lynchburg, and then leave for Roanoke early the next morning.

A Setback on I-64

Just before getting to the Fishersville exit on the interstate my left front tire went royally flat. I knew the tread on the front tires of my little pickup was low, but after having the tires checked the day before I decided to go ahead with plans to take the Nissan anyway, against my good wife's advice, so she could have our car to use while I was gone. I also wanted to listen to a tape recorded interview I had done with my father back in 1984 that I wanted to share excerpts of with my brother (our car doesn't have a tape deck).

Bad news: I had never changed a tire on my 1996 pickup, and even finding a way to get the  spare from under the truck looked like a daunting task. Besides, I felt an urgent need to get to my sister's place.

Good news: Only minutes after pulling off the highway and dialing #77 (the police emergency hotline), I saw one of their Safety Service trucks, lights flashing, in my rear view mirror. It had just stopped a couple of hundred yards behind me to tag a motorcycle that was stranded because it had run out of gas.

What are the odds of such a thing happening, I marveled? In all of my interstate travels, I don't remember even seeing such a vehicle, much less needing help from one, so I was already prepared to wait forever for one to come to my aid. But in a very short time this angel visitor in disguise had me on my way to nearby Eavers Tire Service on Tinkling Springs Road where I had some new tires installed just before their closing time. Another great example of what I call "Mercy's Law".

And had I not decided to go see my dying sister Wednesday and left at 4:30 am Thursday instead for Roanoke, I may have had my flat along I-81 at a time when I could not been able to get the help I needed in time to make my flight.

Sad News and Sweet Consolation

After landing near the capitol city in early afternoon, we were greeted by my nephew Philip and escorted through busy traffic and mountainous roads for a two-hour drive across the country's Continental Divide and through its "cloud forest" (a high altitude rain forest-like area with abundant moisture brought in from the Atlantic) and down the other side to the tiny village of La Merced and my brother's home.

We enjoyed a near perfect evening, and took time for a memorable stop at a rustic roadside restaurant, plus another one by one of the many waterfalls in the area, all of which added to the feeling that we were in an earthly paradise, one in which temperatures are almost always somewhere between 65 and 85 degrees Fahrenheit.

Sadly, among my brother's first words when we arrived at 7 pm were, "We just got word that Lovina passed away at 4 this afternoon."

Bittersweet emotions run deep at a time like this, with grief at her parting mixed with joy at reuniting with family members. Plus my realizing that with our youngest sister and now our three oldest ones gone, there were only three of us brothers and two sisters left. I was ever so glad I had been able to spend time at Lovina's bedside the night before to tell her how much I loved her and to experience my prayerful goodbye.

A Four-Day Taste of Promised Land

Yoder family "choir" at the reunion

On Friday and Saturday we spent precious time together reminiscing, singing and celebrating with Sanford and Martha's children, five from the states and five from Central America, and with many of their grandchildren and great-grandchildren. All the meals and many of the activities were planned and prepared by my grand-nieces and grand-nephews.

And did I mention singing? The community center where we met rang with laughter and song, wonderful a cappella music in heavenly four-part harmony, all a sacred taste of the life to come.

Sunday proved to be more of the same, with a morning worship service in one of the ten indigenous churches my brother and some of his ordained sons helped establish, and one in which one of the native pastors spoke. A fellow pastor interpreted for a couple of us.

Arenal Lake and Volcano

On our last full day some of us accompanied Sanford and Martha west to Arenal, near where they lived when they first arrived in the country in 1968, a location where a nearby volcano erupted soon after they were settled. That traumatic event, along with the building of a huge lake for producing hydroelectric power that flooded much of their land, led them to leave what has since become a thriving tourist area, and to move to the Pital region to the east.

Home Again

I brought home with me a taste of an earthly paradise, memories of a haven for exotic birds and other wildlife and a heaven of fellowship with some of the people closest to my heart.

I felt I could have settled down at such a place forever, and my faith boldly claims that some day we will, enjoying a new and unpolluted heavens and an earth restored to its Creator's perfection. And one in which wolf will lie down with lamb and none will study war any more.

I know there may still be plenty of potholes on the way, not unlike those encountered in the last five miles of our journey to La Merced, with one of the roughest, rockiest rides imaginable. But it's all a part of the journey.

Our son Brad sang the following words from the New Testament letter to the Philippians as a kind of benediction on one of our last nights together in Costa Rica:

Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. 

Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. 

Then you will experience God’s peace, 

which exceeds anything we can understand. 

God's peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:6-7 (New Living Translation)

A September Reunion To Savor

Saturday, September 2, was a day of remembering.

It was September 6, 1925, when my father, Ben Yoder, at 20 1/2, married his sweetheart, Mary Nisly, who had just turned 22 the week before.

Ninety-two years later, over 200 of their 606 descendants (1) gathered at the Bethel Mennonite Church activity center in Campbell County for two days of story telling and celebration. The four of us remaining siblings of Ben and Mary's nine offspring were all present, included my ailing 87-year-old brother Sanford and his wife Martha from Costa Rica, along with scores of cousins, nieces, nephews and in-laws representing four generations.

They came from Costa Rica, Nicaragua, and Manitoba. They gathered from Montana, Kansas, Tennessee, Kentucky, Indiana, North Carolina, Pennsylvania and Ohio, as well as from at least five different counties in Virginia. Due to the significant number of people who had either lived or grew up in a Spanish speaking country, or who had served in a Latino culture, some of the singing we enjoyed was in Spanish as well as in English.

Some art and craft displays

Displays of old letters, poems, articles and other artifacts of our family history were on tables around the meeting area, along with pencil and ink drawings (by sister Maggie), oil paintings (by sister-in-law Martha), and other art work, poetry and published writing by various family members.

For example, my 59-year-old nephew Pablo from Nicaragua has had numerous books published that have sold by the thousands, including some narratives of his life story and that of his parents, Sanford and Martha, both before and after their move to Costa Rica a half century ago. He, along with his photographer son Jacinto, have also produced two beautifully illustrated coffee table books on natural life in Central America.

Then there's my 58-year-old niece, Judy Yoder, who has also written a series of widely sold books, most recently about her father Eli's life in rural Oklahoma and later in Kansas, and who is the author of a hard cover biography, Vera's Journey, that has sold over 6000 copies, and is still available at Christian Light Publishing's book store in Harrisonburg (at a discount price, by the way). A resident of Floyd County, Judy was unable to attend the reunion due to a painful and debilitating back condition that has her doing most of her writing in a horizontal position. An amazing person.

Brother Sanford also continues to do some writing for one of the publications produced by La Merced Publishing which he and some of his sons and a son-in-law founded in Costa Rica years ago. According to Mennonite historian John Roth, their Bible study and other material, including the bimonthly La Entorche de la Verdad, with a vast readership all over Central and South America, is among the most widely circulated and read Anabaptist/Mennonite literature anywhere in the world. Sanford has also contributed numerous daily devotional readings to the bi-monthly publication Beside the Still Waters, with a circulation of 280,000.

My parents would certainly not want any of us to elevate them or any members of their family, but I am grateful every day for my mom and dad, my siblings, and their many descendants who have used whatever gifts they had to serve God and others to the best of their ability. I think especially of my sister who served as a nurse/midwife in Belize and in Paraguay for many years, the brother who has been a self supporting missionary in Costa Rica most of his adult life, and the scores of other family members who have done volunteer church-related work at home and abroad. One of my nephews could not be present because he was representing Christian Aid Ministries assessment of rebuilding needs in Houston.

We are far from perfect. And lest you think we are only about dedication and hard work, I leave you with one of the humorous poems that my other ordained brother, Eli, let me read during my last visit with him before he died of cancer in February. Eli, a great preacher and a fine furniture craftsman, was so modest I had never known he had even written any poetry. Many of his pieces are inspirational and serious, but one I read at the reunion, on a lighter note, he once wrote for his beloved Ruth:

If kissing could make money

It sure would suit me fine,

Because I'd just switch jobs

And ask for overtime!

Now that's some some truly good work even a Yoder can appreciate.

(1) The above number, 606 by my count, from the updated family directory done by niece Mary Sue Zehr, includes spouses, adopted children, step children and 26 deceased family members.

Praying for Sanford

We feel blessed by reports of my brother Sanford's improved health since his heart attack.

Here his beloved Martha is praying with him in his room at Hospital Mexico in San Jose, where he has been moved for possible bypass surgery. This is one of the best government hospitals in Costa Rica, an above average Central American country which has invested its resources in education and health care instead of in military might (Costa Rica has only the equivalent of a National Guard).

My brother and his family joined other several other Beachy Amish families in moving to Costa Rica in 1968, where they have established numerous churches and now have a publishing enterprise that produces La Antorcha de la Verdad, which now has the largest circulation of any Mennonite publication in the world, according to a piece by John Roth in the April 2, 2012, Mennonite World Review.

We invite your continued prayers for Sanford and his family and for the churches they have helped establish in Central America. Three of his sons are pastors, editors and writers who are active in providing leadership in the work, along with numerous indigenous pastors and leaders.

A remarkable story.

P. S. My nephew Pablo Yoder has written numerous books, including a beautifully illustrated nature book, "The Work of Thy Fingers" and one for younger readers, "My Father's World."

A Home-going Celebration For Nephew Pablo Yoder, Author And Missionary To Nicaragua

 

"Where, O death, is your victory, Where, O grave, is your sting?" 

Eunice, to the left of Pablo's casket, with their children and grandchildren.

Oh Paul, our beloved Pablo

    called to be an apósto 

a missionary bearing Good News

to those God loves in an untamed 

and breathtakingly beautiful land--

God's servant and lover of God's creation in far off Nicaragua

Oh Paul, our beloved Pablo

autor... of over two dozen widely read books

     pastor... to all in need of God's love and care

     padre... to two sons and four daughters 

     abuelo... to nine beloved grandchildren

     marido... to his one and only Eunice

     

Adiós, amado y fiel servidor...

Farewell, beloved and faithful servant!

Here is Pablo's obituary as read at his memorial service (translated from Spanish by his brother-in-law Duane Nisly):

Today we gather to celebrate the life of a Christian warrior, Pablo Yoder. He was born on the 23rd of May, 1958, and died on the 14th of October, 2022, having lived 64 years, 4 months, and 22 days. May he rest in peace.

Pablo was converted at age 15 and served his Lord fervently until the Lord called him home to rest at 64 years of age. He served as pastor in the Pital Mennonite Church in Pital de San Carlos for 11 years. He was sent to Nicaragua as a missionary in 1995 where he died, having served as pastor for 27 years in the church in Waslala. In gratitude to God, Pablo has asked that his vigil and funeral service be a celebration to God and that it would also serve as an invitation to sinners who would desire to make their life right with God.

Pablo was preceded in death by his father, Sanford Yoder, his son-in-law, Jonathan Miller, and a nephew, Nathan Nisly. His surviving family grieves his death. First is his wife Eunice

(Swartzentruber) who served faithfully at his side for 39 years of married life. Jacinto, the oldest son, married to Kendra (Stoltzfus) who live in Zapote Kum, Nicaragua. Jessica, married to Abner Esh live in Quebradón, Costa Rica. Janie lives at home in Waslala. Luana, married to Eddy Montenegro live in Zapote Kum, Nicaragua. Cynthia, married to Josías Villalobos live in Quebradón, Costa Rica. Kenneth lives at home in Waslala. His 9 grandchildren will miss their grandfather greatly.

The family has endeavored to make the most of the last 60 days of his life after it was discovered he suffered from an advanced stage of kidney cancer. They proclaim with confidence that Pablo has triumphed in his Christian profession and that he is enjoying a place far better that his earthly one. It is in that place that the family waits to join with Jesus and with Pablo someday and live there forever.

A procession of vehicles and people on foot stretched for a half mile as it wound its way through Waslala to the cemetery.

An estimated one thousand people attended Pablo's viewing, funeral and burial services, with hundreds being fed after the viewing with a steer Pablo requested be butchered for the occasion.

Pablo 64, soon after he learned he had stage 4 cancer, with Martha his mother, beloved wife of my brother Sanford. Sanford, a lifelong missionary in Costa Rica, passed away at his home in February of this year. His son Pablo died at his home in Nicaragua October 14.

Beloved Brother

My oldest brother Sanford has lived in Costa Rica as a self supporting missionary and pastor since 1968. Last week he suffered a serious heart attack and remains in critical care at the San Carlos Social Security Government Hospital. At 81, this came as a shock to all of us, since he had never been diagnosed with heart problems and was in reasonably good health for his age.

There were nine of us children in our family, and I am the next to the youngest. Sanford has always been a special brother, a powerfully positive influence in my life. As a teen he went through a time of anger and rebellion in which he gave my parents no end of grief, then turned his life completely around and became a consistently Christian model and mentor who’s been a great blessing to me, as have my other eight siblings.

It’s hard to think of him in this condition and not be able to be there to personally tell him I love him.  I so wish I could hold his hand, pray for him, and to offer my support to his amazing Martha, by his side through nearly sixty years. I’m glad all of their ten loving children have been with him this week, some who flew there from the states to be with their dad.

I’m told that when I was a toddler I called my brother “Gah-Tah” for some strange unknown reason. My older siblings repeatedly tried to correct me, would patiently tell me, “Now say, ‘SAN-FORD,’” carefully emphasizing each syllable. I would soberly repeat, to everyone’s amusement, “GAH-TAH,” with equal emphasis, thinking I was saying the name correctly.

Right now I would love to be the child again, and say from my heart, “Gah-Tah, I love you!” to my big brother. He would understand. He would cry and give me the big bear hug I’m needing right now.

Are You a Man, Little Eli?

I just received an email attachment with a soon to be published manuscript written by my niece Judy Yoder. It is the story of the early life of my older brother Eli (her father) and of our family during our years in eastern Kansas.

My parents, Ben and Mary Yoder, moved there with their eight children from Nowata County, Oklahoma, in late 1942 to near Garnett, Kansas, then by train to Virginia in March of 1946. I am 3 1/2 years old when this story begins, and Eli is eight.

I don't have the same vivid memories of this time my older siblings have, but this gives me such a sense of place, of home, helping me see, feel, hear and taste some of my early life in a way that makes it priceless. The book is meant for elementary age children, but it is one that I, needless to say, am reading with great interest!

Judy is also the author of the book "Vera's Journey" which has sold over 6000 hardback copies.

Here's a list of the chapters, plus a sample from the first part of chapter 1:

Are you a man, Little Eli?

1. Too Poor to go Farther......................................................... 2

2. Mrs. Snyder.......................................................................    11

3. The Button-up Shoes .......................................................... 19

4. Write it a Thousand Times.................................................. 27

5. Rats in the Attic.................................................................. 35

6. Surprise from the Junk Yard ............................................... 42

7. The Almost-end of School. ................................................ 48

8. Patsy Comes to Stay............................................................. 53

9. The Sure-enough Mad Dog................................................. 64

10. Grouchy Mr. Watkins......................................................... 67

11. The Christmas Train........................................................... 77

12. The Big Red Bull................................................................ 89

13. Herdsman for Dannie......................................................... 98

14. Buck Rake and the Bees................................................... 105

15. Weeds in the Corn............................................................. 117

16. Visit to Oklahoma............................................................. 125

17. Rabbit Hunt with Patsy..................................................... 132.

18. No Funeral for Ben........................................................... 137

19. Queen gets the Spooks.....................................................  143

20. Responsible Hired Man .................................................. 148

21. The Wonderful New Machine……………………........……... 154

22. Home Alone..................................................................... 158

23. Hail on the Oats............................................................... 166

24. Mountains of Virginia...................................................... 170

25. War's End......................................................................... 173

26. Good-bye Grossmommy.................................................. 174

27. Letter from Uncle Ed....................................................... 179

28. Rubber-tired Tractor......................................................... 188

29. "Din-nah in tha' Reah!".................................................... 193

30. Surrounded by Mist......................................................... 200

31. A Man-sized Job.............................................................. 202

Chapter 1. Too Poor to go Farther   12/15/42

It was night when Eli opened his eyes. The moon still floated high above the frozen prairie, and Dad and Mom’s voices were quick and muffled in the kitchen. The morning fire in the stove spit and popped.

Eli shoved his face out of the comforters. The air grabbed his chest but he sat up, shivering. Gritting his teeth, he slid out of bed and reached for his clothes. Sanford’s feet hit the floor at the same time. Others were waking too–Harvey, in his bed, the girls in theirs--Lovina, Esther, and Lucy. Lena and Fannie Mae. Everyone was hurrying. Mom had said that on moving day there would be no time to waste. They must grab a bite, and hustle about.

Eli slipped into the kitchen. He took the cornbread Mom handed him. Already the house where he had been born seemed like a foreign place. Boxes and barrels crowded the corners and hid the walls. The rooms of the little house seemed strange and swollen out of shape. In just a few hours they would drive away and never come back. Eli tried to swallow the last bite of cornbread but it stuck in his throat.

“Ach, your head!” Mom said. She ran a wet comb over his hair, sending a cold trickle down his neck before he pulled on his stocking cap. The wetness reached way down inside of him without warming up at all. He wrestled with the door knob, then stepped out into the night.

Tree branches made thin shadows on the ground. Somewhere a rooster crowed. A truck ground to a halt out on the road, then headlights swung in the lane. Eli jumped off the porch and stood there, shivering. The movers were here.

Lanterns bobbed. Hurry, hurry went all the feet. They must soon head down the road and go, who knows where. Eli did not know. Neither did the others. Only Dad had seen their new home.

“I found a house to rent five miles from Uncle Dannies and Grossmommy,” Dad had said. “Not as close as I wish, but close enough, I guess.” He cleared his throat, “Though the house isn’t in the best of shape.”

“What needs be, needs be,” Mom had answered. And that’s why today was moving day.

Soon Eli was too busy to think. He did not feel the cold creeping into his hands and feet. He did not feel it slipping down his coat collar, sucking at his breath. The sun was peeping over the rim of the world as Dad and Sanford loaded the stove, the beds. and the kitchen sink. It was peering in the windows as Mom and the girls hefted on the desk, the table, and the chairs.

The loads piled higher and higher. The sun climbed up, up the sky. Clothes, comforters, and food squeezed on board. Horses, pigs, and cows. And then they were on their way.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  * * *
Judy has kindly given me permission to post this sample draft, with the understanding that her manuscript will need to go through the publisher's normal editing process and has yet to be illustrated, all of which may take considerable time.  I'll be sure to let everyone know when this happens.

On The Ninth Day Of Christmas--A Heart-Wrenching Post Of Christmas Past

This is all that was left (photo by grandnephew Michael Shifflett).

A Grief Beyond Belief

Early on Saturday morning December 12, 2015, we received the terrible news that my younger sister, Mary Beth Shifflett, 69, and her husband Harven, 77, had perished in a fire that destroyed their mobile home in nearby Greene County. We were in a state of shock and disbelief.

Neither my sister nor her husband were in good health, and had been in and out of hospitals for various life threatening conditions over the past number of years. So we would not have been surprised to hear that one or the other was in some kind of medical crisis. But we were never prepared for this.

My now deceased sister came into our home at four months of age as a foster child, the first of a dozen or more children my parents, with eight living children of their own, took in during my early childhood. I was six when she came to live with us, and we quickly grew so attached to her that my parents adopted her some years later. As her next older brother we spent a lot of special time together.

Mary Beth loved Christmas, and loved preparing gifts for others for the holiday season, as well as at any other special time. As an adult she was the most active of any of us in encouraging our family to get together for regular reunions and other occasions.

As a young adult she was able to find her biological mother and a blood brother and sister, and for a while spent considerable time with them. At that time she was told that her father was no longer living. This proved to be untrue, and she later found her aging father at a nursing home near Waynesboro, and maintained a relationship with him until he passed away some years ago. Yet throughout she has maintained her primary family ties with her Yoder family.

I will miss her very much. In many ways she had a troubled life, but she was such a loving and stubborn survivor, and will always be in our hearts.

The following is an excerpt of what my oldest brother Sanford, who with his wife Martha lives in Costa Rica, wrote on our family email group:

 "I have so many happy memories of my sister Mary Beth. The day she arrived as a little baby we were all so excited. As she grew she became my little favorite, often sitting on my knees, singing with me... (We) mourn a great loss but are committing the present in the hands of a just and holy God ...who is perfect in love, perfect in mercy, and perfect in grace."

(first posted December 14, 2015)

Click here for some more posts on the memorable life of my late youngest sister.

My Nephew, A Missionary And Prolific Author, Is Given Less Than A Year To Live

Pablo Yoder, 64, with Martha, his beloved mother

Pablo Yoder grew up in Costa Rica as the fourth son of my brother Sanford and sister-in-law Martha and went on to become a missionary, church planter and author in Nicaragua. He was recently diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. 

In his own words:

“For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain. But if I live on in the flesh, this will mean fruit from my labor; yet what I shall choose I cannot tell. For I am hard-pressed between the two, having a desire to depart and be with Christ, which is far better. Nevertheless, to remain in the flesh is more needful for you. And being confident of this, I know that I shall remain and continue with you all for your progress and joy of faith, that you are rejoicing for me may be more abundant in Jesus Christ by my coming to you again.”                                                                                                    --Philippians 1.21-26 

For quite some time I have been having some health issues. I was losing weight, had indigestion issues, seemed always tired and washed out. After doctoring and thinking it was my blood sugar, then amoeba’s and last of all gastritis, on Monday we finally discovered the truth.

In Matagalpa we did an ultrasound on my abdomen, which was giving me issues. The doctor that did the ultrasound started slowly, and very soon threw up his hands, asking, “Haven’t you had an ultrasound done on you lately?”

“No.”

He kept on looking, measuring, and shaking his head. Then he turned from his screen and asked, “How do you want the news, in fancy words, or the plain truth?”

“The plain truth,” Jacinto replied.

“I find a large tumor on the left kidney, and many tumors on the liver. This does not look good.”

God had prepared me recently, with my wife and I talking about me dying. I knew that things were not well. But to hear this kind man tell us the truth was overwhelming, and I fought to not burst out crying.

Next the doctor ordered an Xray on my lungs. And that was also riddled with tumors.

One of the last things the ultrasound doctor said to Jacinto was, “If it were my dad, I would not let them do anything invasive. It will only make it worse. I would take him home, make him as comfortable as possible for the rest of his days.”

Jacinto and I left the office in a daze and found our wives. Then out on the street, in a very touching, tender moment, we told them the truth.

Next, we found a restaurant. I still have not lost my appetite, so we had a special meal together, discussing what this meant for our future.

That same day we traveled to Managua for an MRI and a second opinion. We took the results of the MRI to a cancer specialist, and he was also kind and frank with us. Stage four cancer. My main tumor on my kidney, I named him Nero because he is so wicked, almost weighs a pound and measures 11 centimeters. Nero is pressuring my colon, which makes digestive problems. But so far so good. I have no pain, only a weakness.

I solicit prayer, especially for my family. This is hard for them to think of losing their husband/dad. And we have many decisions to make.

I feel like the ultrasound doctor’s advice seems very good. The whole family is getting together on Saturday. We plan to have a special time of bonding while I still feel good. And together we face all the decisions.

I will be asking for anointing with oil soon. If God chooses to heal me, I will serve him with joy!

Sunday morning, the first time to church since we discovered the truth, the two churches that I oversee, will get together to worship and to give testimony. We want to sing and praise the good God. I have lived with no regrets. Except not to have served God better. And if I am honest, I long for rest. That eternal rest that awaits the faithful.

Nine years ago, when I had GBS, I was ready to say goodbye to this old world. Then God healed me and gave me nine more EXCELLENT years. Why would I complain if God wants to take me home now? I am ready. I am not afraid. I am just on the altar to see what God has for me.

To die is great gain, the Apostle Paul said. But then he told the Philippians that he knew he was staying yet because he had so much work to do. God revealed that to him. I do not feel that assurance this time. In fact, I hear a summons that makes my heart beat high with joy. In my worship this morning I could not help but thank God over and over for the privilege to have lived 64 years on this earth and to be part of his kingdom.

I will not be able to answer all the emails this post will produce. But I thank each of you for your prayers and support now and always. You all have been a special part of the life of my family and me.

God bless you!

Pablo 

 

Here's a list of Pablo's https://www.thriftbooks.com/a/pablo-yoder/494049/

A Christmas Of Sorrow and Grief

photo by grandnephew Michael Shifflett

Early Saturday morning we received the terrible news that my younger sister, Mary Beth Shifflett, 69, and her husband Harven, 77, perished in a fire that destroyed their mobile home in nearby Greene County. We are still in a state of shock and disbelief.

Neither my sister nor her husband were in good health, and had been in and out of hospitals for various life threatening conditions over the past number of years. So we would not have been surprised to hear that one or the other was in some kind of medical crisis at UVA. But we were never prepared for this.

My now deceased sister came into our home at four months of age as a foster child, the first of a dozen or more children my parents, with eight living children of their own, took in during my early childhood. I was six when she came to live with us, and we quickly grew so attached to her that my parents adopted her some years later. As her next older brother we spent a lot of special time together.

Mary Beth loved Christmas, and loved preparing gifts for others for the holiday season, as well as at any other special time. As an adult she was the most active of any of us in encouraging our family to get together for regular reunions and other occasions.

As a young adult she was able to find her biological mother and a blood brother and sister, and for a while spent considerable time with them. At that time she was told that her father was no longer living. This proved to be untrue, and she later found her aging father at a nursing home near Waynesboro, and maintained a relationship with him until he passed away some years ago. Yet throughout she has maintained her primary family ties with her Yoder family.

I will miss her very much. In many ways she had a troubled life, but she was a stubborn survivor, and will always be in our hearts.

The following is an excerpt of what my oldest brother Sanford, who with his wife Martha lives in Costa Rica, wrote on our family email group:

"I have so many happy memories of sister Mary Beth. The day she arrived as a little baby we were all so excited. As she grew she became my little favorite, often sitting on my knees, singing with me... (We) mourn a great loss but are committing the present in the hands of a just and holy God ...who is perfect in love, perfect in mercy ,and perfect in grace. He has done his will in his mercy and in his time, as He will with each of us."

I will post funeral plans here as soon as we finalize them, probably later on today.

Thanks for your love and prayers.

12/14/15 Update: I learned today that we will need to wait for the court to determine to whom the bodies are released after the autopsies are done, so plans are on hold until we get more information.

12/15/15 Update: Autopsy folks in Richmond did DNA matching today to legally determine the identities of the bodies, say they may not be released to the funeral home until "up to" ten days, though it could be less. This makes any kind of planning very frustrating, to say the least. Sounds like we may go ahead with a graveside service within a day or two of the bodies being returned and plan for a memorial service sometime this weekend. Sorry I don't have more details to share. 

Over 750 people have visited this blog post as of this evening, a near record. We so appreciate the outpouring of love and support.

12/16/Update:It looks now like we may have a memorial service at the Dyke Fire Hall Saturday or Sunday afternoon, January 2 or 3, with a meal either provided by a local group on a free will offering basis or with a carry in meal. We would have a half hour or so for scripture and a meditation (and special music?) followed by food and having a roving microphone for people to share memories. 

The time of the burial is still unknown due to the uncertainty of when the bodies will be released.