Beloved Friends and Family,
I begin this letter by calling you all beloved because that is what you have been to us. All of you in some way have supported us over the last four or more years. You have fed us when we were hungry and housed us when we were homeless. Many of you have prayed for us earnestly. Some of you have helped us with monthly needs, and others have helped us travel to more than 10 countries (some of them numerous times). In one way or another, all of you have walked with us as we have sought help Hillside Community Church fulfill its vision by meeting the needs of the congregation at home and missionaries abroad. Through it all, you have provided us with an example of the body of Christ functioning with all of its different parts. For this, we are eternally grateful.
While our gratitude will last forever, we have always known that our time at Hillside wouldn’t. I used to wonder what would take us away from our role at Hillside as it was the best job I could have imagined. There is nothing quite like getting paid to do what you love to do. Throughout all of my time at Hillside, I never wanted to be anywhere else. This is one reason why my heart aches as I write this letter. Our time of serving at Hillside in an official capacity has come to an end, yet I still cannot think of anywhere else I would rather be. While this decision was quite sudden and painful, we nonetheless keep our trust in the sovereign Lord who indeed knows for what it is that He draws us away. While we do not know what our future holds, we rest in Him and exult in His ever felt company.
We realize that this letter provides you with very little information about our situation. We hope to communicate more with you in the future especially as we begin to turn the page and continue on to the next chapter in our life. In the meantime, please receive our sincere thank you and know that Christ is continuing to make our joy complete even in the most difficult of times.
By His Grace and for His Fame,
Jason, Sara, Ruth, and Caedmon Bolt
Even with as much as I travel, I still forget that places like this actually exist. Where I sit right now in my living room seems like a completely different world than where I was just a few days ago. The one nurse at the clinic sees about 30 patients a day, most of which have malaria. The ease and comfort of life in America is so easy and comfortable that I far too often forget and neglect the suffering of other people around the world. What a shame it is that I have to fly around the world in order to have my eyes opened.
In fact, he just told me this morning that he wants to go back to Nicaragua; and I would be more than happy to take him. All of us were able to see and savor Christ in an environment completely different from what we are used to at home. That by its nature enlarges our souls and gives us a greater capacity to know Christ… a process that will undoubtedly continue in all of us throughout all of eternity.
After the broom-clad army chased it from the ceiling, it was hastily put inside of a Tupperware container… alive.
Shortly after, we realized no one was willing to open the container in order to kill it for fear of its escape. So, we put it in the freezer and let nature take its course.
Just as inevitable as the spider encounters is my coming home with a stiff realization of my own depravity. Every time a visit Nicaragua, I understand in greater degrees the depths of my sin and my flesh’s fervent enterprise to divert me from God. In II Corinthians 1:8-9, Paul says that he was burdened excessively beyond his strength to the point of death so that he would not trust in himself but in God who raises the dead. Absurd are the ways in which I trust in myself and not on God who raises the dead. The depths of my depravity seem to go on far beyond what the eye can see. In it, though, I come to see what great a need I have for the One for whom and through whom we exist (I Cor 8:6). In this, I rejoice. Yes, I will gladly rejoice in my unquenchable need for the infinitely sufficient Christ who was and is and always will be!
The Burmese government is rather particular about who they let in and out of their country. They let me cross the border, but they retained my passport to ensure I did not go too far. I also had to pay an “entry fee” of 500 Baht (only about $15) for which I did not get a receipt. Anyway, we hopped on a taxi… yes, we literally hopped. Actually, we hopped on two taxis. Burma is the only place where I have seen scooter taxis. So, we hopped on two taxis and went to the home of one of the translators for the Barefoot Doctors who also happens to be married to Lincoln’s cousin. We had a nice Burmese breakfast and then scurried back to Thailand after 90 minutes or so. 
