Formal Obituary

Hans Martin Weerstra, age 75, went home to be with the Lord on Monday, April 25, 2011 at 6:30 PM. Hans died at home from lung and brain cancer.  His family worked during WWII for the allied forces in the Netherlands which was under Nazi occupied hands. His family was also part of the underground movement that provided asylum for Jewish families, hiding them in their walls and basements. Toward the end of the war, neighbors turned the Weerstra family into the Nazi officials and Mr. Weerstra and the head of the Jewish family were arrested and taken to prison. They were later released by a miraculous work of God. A Jewish child born while under their care is now a doctor in Israel. For their work with the Jewish underground, they were given a tree planted in the “Garden of the Righteous Gentiles’ in Israel. The Weerstra family was given a special citation by President Eisenhower at the end of the war which allowed them to emigrate to the United States. Hans arrived in the states at 13 years old with his eight brothers and sisters. He lived in Holland Michigan.

In 1964 Hans was ordained by the Christian Reformed Church and served as a missionary in Southern Mexico from 1964-1983. He worked in Yucatan and Oaxaca with the Mayan, Zapotecs, Mixtechs, and other indigenous peoples of Mexico planting churches and bible distribution. Currently there are over 40 churches planted in that area as a result of his efforts.  He graduated from Calvin College with an M.Div  in 1964 and in 1972 received his doctorate from Fuller Theological Seminary, Pasadena, California.  He speaks four languages and has written several books as well as serving as the editor for many years (1991-1994) of the International Journal of Frontier Missions. 

Hans worked with Youth With A Mission from 1984-1991, where he directed the Spanish Language School in El Paso Texas. His last position was as a mission pastor and church consultant with the Southwest Center for World Missions who did ministry under the name of the Oxford Street Abbey. 

He leaves behind his wife, Judy L. Weerstra, daughters, Patty Rybak of Dallas Texas, Julianne De Leon of El Paso Texas, and Jennifer Neely of Killeen, Texas. His sons, Doug Weerstra of Denver Colorado, Rick Weerstra of Schenectady, New York and Ryan Ludlow of Austin, Texas and 18 grandchildren. His brothers: Richard Weerstra, John Weerstra, Ted Weerstra of Holland Michigan, and Cecil Weerstra of Hilton Head, South Carolina. His sister: Jean Hengst of Holland Michigan. He is preceded in death by his father, Martin Weerstra, mother, Teresa Weerstra, sister Anne Gipping, brother Sam Weerstra all of Holland, Michigan. 

Funeral will be held at the Memorial Pines Cemetery, 61 Memorial Pines Lane, Sunland Park, MN 88063.  Funeral arrangements by  Crestview Funeral Home.  If you would like to send flowers, please send tulips to Memorial Pines. Please send donations you would like to give to his former mission, Youth With A Mission, 4406 Edgar Park, El Paso Texas 79904. 

The Mourning Dove

Mourning is such a mystery. One hour you are fine, the next you are crippled by sorrow. There is a physical component to the process. We have been sick all week, nausea, upset bowels, general anxiety, and headaches. Sometimes sorrow feels like an elephant sitting on my chest. I do not trust myself to be around people. What was funny one minute is not the next. Humor becomes humorless, life become dull, and anxiety replaces peace. 

Yesterday I found myself looking for clues to Hans' inner life in his desk, his notes, his wallet. There were none new. I knew Hans so well. But with knowing someone so well, to some degree, the magic is gone. Magic implies mystery and the unknown. We were so fully known to each other that we had merged into one flesh, one spirit and certainly of one mind. We were supremely comforting to one another at the end. 

On the Thursday after the family viewing, we ate together for the first time as a unit. All the kids, 6 of them and spouses were together. At the end of the meal, I ordered two coffees. One for me, one for Hans. I knew precisely what we would be experiencing—we would be savoring the quiet joy of seeing happy children getting along, only now fully grown. The shared coffee was our own personal sign of a happy moment. 

Separation is like the ripping of velcro. I am ripped. But hopeful. Hopeful that my long association with H. will bear much fruit in the days ahead and that I will not always suffer from at the memories of our life together, the restaurants we ate at, the people we ministered unto, and the events of our life. 

This picture on the left has become my screen savior. It is kinda funny. Every morning H. would bring coffee wearing these clothes. Then he would sit in front of me, and I would be in bed sitting up. We would talk about the nation, the endtimes, and the church. Now he sits inside my computer, across from me, while I am in my bed typing on this screen.  But now I am talking to you, my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ, not him. Although I did reach out yesterday and touch his hand. I wanted to dust off his sweater to remove the beard dander and tell him he needs a shave. I guess you never stop being a nag. 

Yesterday we attacked the garage again. Looking at our "stuff" was vicious. Pressed into my heart were the wires, pipes, text books, reference books, furniture, dust, memories of all our life together.  I had to leave. Only a small part of the conversion has taken place. Ashes—1; Beauty—0. 


Julianne had to be picked up at the mall, legs wobbly and head swimming, she was in the middle of a panic attack. Neither one of us have taken mourning seriously. It is an anxiety disorder of the first kind. 


Today we are off to the cemetery to replace the flowers. This time with silk. I am beginning the nauseating process of writing thank you notes. It is emotionally difficult, painful but healing at the same time. I look forward to encountering God today. I have not met Him yet in this wilderness of recovery. His word to me has been silent. Outside my window, the mourning doves make their usual sound, I always thought they were morning doves, but no, they are mourning doves. Now I have become one. 

Something Beautiful for God

"Tragedy strikes." A term that I have often heard. Until now it had no emotional significance for me. But tragedy has struck "at home." I have been left dazed and confused.

I am amazed at how life is so full of unfinished things, things still "left to do." We had not counted on being prematurely cut off and now these projects, so dear to our hearts, haunt me. They mock me. The sadness is we "weren't finished"—Hans having been cut off in the prime of life, at the peak of his fruit bearing. And everywhere I look there are "things" which speak to a life that was fully engaged.

To strike: "to hit sharply as with a hand, fist or weapon", "to pierce or penetrate", "to inflict a blow", "to wound as with a bite".  That is how I feel today. As if I have been mortally wounded and death has had its sting!  I don't mean this in an eternal sense, but here on earth. Every time I see these unfinished hopes and dreams before me I am struck again, a blow to the heart. I feel the horror of unbearable sorrow for my husband's apostolic dreams. Looking into the chasm of death, I weep, and the wellspring of hope disappears for a moment.

The term, "tragedy strikes" has such an impersonal quality to its being, like a sniper's bullet. Just a random blow to the head and boom, you're dead! No person behind the senselessness. No one to get mad at, no one to blame. This is the plight of cancer victim. Cut-off, no less than than the 9-11 victims. It's hard for me to fully trust God now, it seemed so random and so out of control. It is hard for me to share these things, because every leader wants to appear strong and in constant pursuit of virtue, but today I am like Job, sitting with my blisters on my bottom and my head covered in wounds for all to see. Will I curse God and die? Has it come to this? It is only because of the confusion that despair has an opening.

Yesterday in Charisma Magazine, I read about the premature death of Billy Hornsby, age 61. He was the co-founder and president of the Association of Related Churches (ARC) who died of cancer at 61. A church planter who specialized in training leaders around the world. Hornsby helped to develop the largest church planting organization and also served as the European Coordinator for EQUIP. Like Hans, Hornsby fully believed that the Lord would heal him until the very end. Though both men believed in the real probability of death for themselves, they held out a strong belief in the power of healing. Both men died. The same week David Wilderson and Christine Francis' mother, a prayer warrior also died. Martina, an astute prophetess said, "God is removing the pillars of the church." Do we dare ask why?

A younger Hans. He really has had two
or three works as a missionary. Here is he doing
direct missions although he still is
teaching.

At this point, I can only leave that to God. Today my heart's mission is to finish the work—to bring order to the chaos and beauty to the mission. I will finish his work and mine. In making beauty out of ashes God will make the way beautiful again. And he will make Hans' life bear more fruit than ever, only I must survive this "hard teaching."

Today Dr. Brown and I worked in the garage for hours. We made a corner of the chaos beautiful. I attacked and cleaned out the old dead hornet nests. This was a symbolic action on my part. Death has had its sting, but I am removing the agents of pain from my midst. A dozen boxes of old wires and plumbing parts were brought outside to be sorted and tossed. Empty shipping boxes were stacked, mattresses were put away and stored, dust was swept and order began to creep in. Hans would be proud. The boxes of wires and "things" were part of the old WWII disorder. Poverty and missional isolation makes you keep strange items in case you "might" need them again. We don't need them anymore and I am doing what Hans was not able to do.

I have my own messes to finish— taxes, bookkeeping, writing and publishing the Genesis Touch, then his work on the End Times, Perfection, Humility and Discipleship. We have scores of summary booklets on Culture and world view transformation, virtue and devotional life issues. We have hundreds of books on incredible subjects, volumes of theological reference books jammed into boxes which must come out in order for Hans' life to be honored. He will finish well even in death. Death will not have its final sting. The Holy Spirit is into transformation of these kinds of "loose ends" and Hans' life will fully glorify God in this way. Jesus' life was cut off at the peak of His life, so many people to touch, so many institutions to overturn, yet His life was "taken" from Him. Yet today millions are working to fulfill His mission, the Holy Spirit working tirelessly to honor the Son in the lives of His disciples. I say we take this as a model and use our gifts and the knowledge that Hans imparted to make something beautiful for them.

Meanwhile, Julianne is afraid that I will die. It is not unheard of, remaining spouse dying shortly after the other. I have thought of this in these last few days. But nothing can come of this but more tragedy. No glory for God. Just more confusion and doubt. No, we will finish well and we will go out singing.

"And God said, "Let us fashion a man..."

During the war, Hans' mother's faith was severely tested. Not by the soldiers but by God. Living in Holland, in Nazi occupied lands, God would ask Theresa to do extravagant things for the family of Jews who were hiding in her house. At one point he asked her to buy a bassinet for their coming child with all of the food rations that Weerstra's possessed. But how would they eat? She was feeding her own family of 10 plus her visitors which were 5 or 6 as well. Nonetheless, she obeyed. Having stuffed her stomach with pillows to pretend pregnancy, she crossed the soldier occupied ford and bought the baby bed. My question to her one day was, doesn't God know that there is a war going on? Apparently that didn't matter to God. He wanted the baby to have a decent bed. God is extravagant at times. Extravagant in his lessons and thoughtful in their delivery. He has planned out everything in advance. 

Here in my life as well. 

I found myself restless yesterday, though we had done many things during the day. We packed the kids and a lunch and went to the cemetery to check the flowers and water the grass over our piece of property. During the day I checked my mail, answering emails and then Facebook, making responses and comments. But by five o"clock, the checking had become compulsive. What was I doing??? I questioned myself. Slowly I realized that I was looking for life. Life to replace the life I had lost. Part of me had died on April 25, 2011 and I needed to replace the missing limb with life. My wound was severe. 

Suddenly before me appeared Mary and Martha again. In their living room I saw many Jews from the neighboring village of Bethany. They were saying comforting things loving these two young women in an attempt to comfort them. And though they spoke the truth, brought food, and provided companionship, nothing could erase the bitter pain of separation. And so my friends did as well. So many incredible comments and acts of kindness have been showered upon us—Judy and Julianne. But as modern Marthas and Marys, our pain continued. 

It wasn't until Jesus personally came into the scene that they experienced their first relief. At first, there was only chastisement, "If only You had come..." I have done the same thing for several days now—lamenting and complaining, asking Why? Why? Why not? Yesterday to my God I also told Him of my broken heart. But there was no answer, and the Comforter, to whom I also appealed, was off on holiday. I was not going to be comforted today. 

It wasn't until Jesus spoke, "I am the Resurrection and the Life"  that things began to change for the sisters. "Here Jesus opened my eyes to see that I would not find life on facebook, in visitors, in the kind words of the saints, I would not even find it in Him, as He walks with me everyday and His presence is tangibly felt. No, I would only find it in the words of life.

Arrgh...my flesh recoiled. I would have to work out my healing with the Word of God? The only way He was going to restore my severed limb and chase away the shadow of death was through a penetrated and focused application of His word. Until this happened, my heart would continue to be a piece of braised meat. I was reminded instantly of the first words of creation,  "And God said, "Let us fashion a man..." In essence I was asking God to once again fashion a man, to replace and recreate the part of my heart that had died. A task no less than the fashioning of the first man, Adam. And He would do this through His spoken word again. 

But doesn't He know there is a war going on? I am caught between a rock and a hard place. I am so weak, that to open the Scriptures is hard work— waiting, praying, and most of all, focusing on something other than myself, my pain. It the hard work of the saints and the pleasure of God, to overcome my enemies, but always in the most unconventional of ways. 

So I opened the book and stared down. What word? Where? Direct my feet O Lord. As you have done so many times. Here I go again— one foot in front of the other.

The Rest of the Journey

Please follow us on :http://oxentothemark.blogspot.com/2011/05/oxen-of-god.html

My Heart Has A Mind of it's Own!

Today is Wed. 7298 days to go. I am alone again. The office is empty and the house is quiet. It was always like that, but in the background I could hear the clicking of the computer. Hans at work—writing, dreaming, talking, working. His writings are everywhere. Today I am going to read them—messages of the end times and the preparation for them. It gripped him towards the end of his life. 

But I am not there today. I am deciding what to wear and what I'm doing. The kind of rest that people are suggesting is not an option. I am a thinking person.  Although spiritually I am in "the rest."  I am not striving to do anything,  I am striving to think. To think myself out of this mess. I feel like a bear in the net—huge but impotent. 

Yesterday was the hardest day ever. I cried all day long. My heart seized control of me and cancelled all the functions of my mind (reason, judgement, self control); and cried all day. My heart is broken. I cannot say anything in its defense. It just is. And grief leaks out little by little. I will not have the big cry. It's uncharacteristic of me. So it leaks out—without being triggered by anything, my heart just cries. My eyes were puffy and rainy all day. 

I found Hans' junk drawer yesterday. These were the things I hated. Odds and ends, stuff that cluttered the beauty of his office. I cried over the box. It mocked me. For now instead of disgust I felt loss, sadness, and grief. How can this really be happening? I still can't believe it. My heart knows the truth, but my mind is confused and pitiful. 

Maybe today will be different. We prayed again last night. Had to ask Jesus to help us. Surely we looked like the disciples on the road to Emmaus, downcast and hopeless. Or like the disciples before Pentecost. We prayed for a fresh wind of the Spirit to blow upon us. We have not served out our ten days yet in prayer. Nothing of the sort has come upon us yet. 

I am leaning toward a prayer center—a place we can reflect the brilliant light of the Gospel. But right now all I can reflect is the shadowlands of Sheol. 

Last Interview with Hans Weerstra (One week before he died)

Last Interview with Hans Weerstra (1 wk  before he died) with Judy Weerstra, Courtney Brown and Julianne DeLeon

JW: What is the most important thing of the end times? 

HW: History is coming to an end. Which means that Jesus' coming is imminent. His purpose and plan in history is upon us. Hard days are coming. And if you read the Olivet Discourse, it will include hard difficult times at the end. Believers are not excluded. Do not be fooled Jesus would say. God's people in the OT weren't fooled, they knew what was coming. So don't exempt yourselves from the hard times, hide yourself in the cleft of the rock, hide yourself in the cleft of the rock, in Jesus Himself. Which means prepare yourself. Yup. Do not deceive yourself, get rid of every trace of idolatry, as God's people, get rid of it. Become like this puppy. (Pointing to Trika)  No idolatry! She is God's wonderful gift to you. That's how I see Judy. As God's gift, caretaker to me. Who else could do this except her? 

JW: How do we get rid of idolatry.

HW: Read Nouwen's book. "Downward Mobility," living totally for Jesus, the selfless way of Christ. Nouwen has given us some language. Our life is a downward spiral, not an upward one. We no longer seek anything for ourselves. It's all over for us. Thank you Henri Nouwen. And you know what? it includes giving our animals (again pointing to Trika)— everything— we have to Him.  The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh, blessed be the name of the Lord. If he wants to give us a wonderful pet, wonderful. But Courtney, we don't need it. No. Good stuff. Every Christian needs to know this. You can't say,  "I can't live without her." Yes you can. In the power and strength of the Holy Spirit, who gives us the power to live like that. The real question is, do we want it. 

JW: Does everyone who wants it, get it? 

HW: Yes, if they meet the condition, if they meet those requirements. 

JW: Which are what? 

HW: (Deep sigh). Paul said, I DON'T KNOW if I have a thing, but I am moving on to what the Lord wants me to do, and know And I wouldn't have it any other way, whether or not I understand it or not. When things come out of control, it seems like we are not in control, that's when we jump in the pool, and we say "You are enough, we don't need anything else." Unless your word isn't true, but it is true. From beginning to end, and it's true for us in the future. (Takes sip of coffee.) 

HW: Whether you look at it from the back end or the front end, its the same. you always find Him at the other end. "I will never abandon you or forsake you. You will never be surprised." Look how I am today. 

CB: Are you at peace today. 

HW: Yes. Are you? (Ask her, points to Judy)

CB: How do you interpret what is happening to you today, these last few weeks.

HW: The main lesson that I am learning now, is that my perfection, my weakness is made perfect in weakness. I wouldn't swtich it for anything. For all of God's people. 

I need to write a book about this. It will blow everybody out ot the water, and bring them into true sonship.

CB: Are you there?

HW: Yes. 

CB: Do you have any regrets?

HW: If it could have been something other than this? Process of what has to be endured. One has to suffer. 

CB: Have you suffered because of Judy? (chuckling)

HW: I could never have done it without her Including this last phase of this thing (cancer?) And I am not talking about physical help. I am talking about the whole nine enchiladas. (confused) What would the Lord say about my answer. He would say, "It's the whole nine enchildadas." It was all needed. You know what they say about the Dutch, you're not much if you're not Dutch.  I really thought that.

CB:  I'm not Dutch. 

HW: But you are a daughter of Adam. Read Ps. 139, 34, I could weep. I might not make it through it. 

139 and 34

139:1 O Lord, you have searched me and known me!2 You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my thoughts from afar.3 You search out my path and my lying down
and are acquainted with all my ways.4 Even before a word is on my tongue,
behold, O Lord, you know it altogether.5 You hem me in, behind and before,
and lay your hand upon me.6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
it is high; I cannot attain it.

7 Where shall I go from your Spirit?
Or where shall I flee from your presence?8 If I ascend to heaven, you are there!
If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!9 If I take the wings of the morning
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,10 even there your hand shall lead me,
and your right hand shall hold me.11 If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me,
and the light about me be night,”12 even the darkness is not dark to you;
the night is bright as the day,
for darkness is as light with you.

13 For you formed my inward parts;
you knitted me together in my mother's womb.14 I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. [1]
Wonderful are your works;
my soul knows it very well.15 My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the earth.16 Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
in your book were written, every one of them,
the days that were formed for me,
when as yet there was none of them.

17 How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them!18 If I would count them, they are more than the sand. I awake, and I am still with you.

19 Oh that you would slay the wicked, O God!
O men of blood, depart from me!20 They speak against you with malicious intent;
your enemies take your name in vain! [2]
21 Do I not hate those who hate you, O Lord?
And do I not loathe those who rise up against you?22 I hate them with complete hatred;
I count them my enemies.

23 Search me, O God, and know my heart!
Try me and know my thoughts! [3]
24 And see if there be any grievous way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting! [4]

34:1 I will bless the Lord at all times; 
his praise shall continually be in my mouth.
2 My soul makes its boast in the Lord; 
let the humble hear and be glad.3 Oh, magnify the Lord with me, 
and let us exalt his name together!

4 I sought the Lord, and he answered me 
and delivered me from all my fears.
5 Those who look to him are radiant, 
and their faces shall never be ashamed.
6 This poor man cried, and the Lord heard him 
and saved him out of all his troubles.
7 The angel of the Lord encamps 
around those who fear him, and delivers them.

8 Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good! 
Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him!
9 Oh, fear the Lord, you his saints, 
for those who fear him have no lack!
10 The young lions suffer want and hunger; 
but those who seek the Lord lack no good thing. (no me falta nada)

11 Come, O children, listen to me; 
I will teach you the fear of the Lord.
12 What man is there who desires life 
and loves many days, that he may see good?
13 Keep your tongue from evil 
and your lips from speaking deceit.
14 Turn away from evil and do good; 
seek peace and pursue it.

15 The eyes of the Lord are toward the righteous 
and his ears toward their cry.
16 The face of the Lord is against those who do evil, 
to cut off the memory of them from the earth.
17 When the righteous cry for help, the Lord hears 
and delivers them out of all their troubles.
18 The Lord is near to the brokenhearted 
and saves the crushed in spirit.

19 Many are the afflictions of the righteous, 
but the Lord delivers him out of them all. 
20 He keeps all his bones; 
not one of them is broken. 
21 Affliction will slay the wicked, 
and those who hate the righteous will be condemned. 
22 The Lord redeems the life of his servants; 
none of those who take refuge in him will be condemned.

JW: What do you like about those two Psalms?

HW: [This is] the path that Jesus walked 24-7, the path of humility. He walked it.  You can never go wrong when you walk in that path. The weak ones, little ones, the humble will see God and be lifted up. 

CB: Anything else?

HW: Well do you want ot sign of my course "Walking in True Humility?" Read Andrew Murray on humility. You might as well be talking to Jesus on every page. 

To Julianne:  I'm really glad you're here. Such pleasant company— because wherever 2 or 3 are gathered together in My name, God blesses them beyond their wildest dreams.  Because brilliant lights are what the world needs. He is establishing in us the brilliant light of the Gospel.  That's what we should fight for everyday: this is only available in Jesus, something the world can't give.  

Hans opens eyes and doesn't see Courtney or Judy and says:  Am I preaching to the walls?  (looks around and sees Julianne and laughs)

HW: Don't forget everything I'm saying, honey. 

JD "I won't Dad!"