Juanita

BEYOND THE FRINGES OF
GOD’S WAYS
The Power of the Gospel in
Everyday Lives
Juanita P. Fike

BEYOND THE FRINGES OF
GOD’S WAYS
The Power of the Gospel in
Everyday Lives

BEYOND THE FRINGES OF
GOD’S WAYS
The Power of the Gospel in
Everyday Lives
Juanita P. Fike
UIM International
P. O. Box 6429
Glendale, AZ 85312
www.uim.org
UIM Canada Branch
P.O. Box 800
Houston, BC Canada
V0J 1Z0

Unless otherwise noted, Scriptures are taken from the Thompson
Chain-Reference Bible, New International Version, © 1983 by B.B.
Kirkbride Bible Co., Inc. and Zondervan Bible Publishers.
Cover design by Missionary Tech Team, Longview, TX.
© 2016 by UIM International, P. O. Box 6429, Glendale, AZ
85312
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,
stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any
other means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or
otherwise—without prior written permission of UIM International.
TO
The Almighty, sovereign God
• Who, with precision and detail, created the universe and
everything in it,
• Who demonstrated even greater power by sacrificing His
Son, Jesus Christ, for the forgiveness of sin, and
• Who sustains, directs, and provides for those who are His
because of their faith in Jesus Christ.
Printed by ????Name and address???????

CONTENTS
“I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God
for the salvation of everyone who believes . . .” (Romans 1:16-
17).
“We . . . will tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of
the LORD, his power, and the wonders he has done” (Psalm
78:4).
Dedication
Contents
Foreword
Preface
Acknowledgements
Stories (and contributors)
1. Beyond Conditional Love (Lee Bramlett)
2. Beyond Mere Adventure (Frank Kratz)
3. Beyond Discouragement (Doug Anderson)
4. Beyond Godless Squabbles (Bryon Brock)
5. Beyond Unreached Status (Michael Busenitz, David Wolf)
6. Beyond Happenstance (Ruth Douglas)
7. Beyond Manmade Schedules (Ron and Dave Hamilton)
8. Beyond Mistaken Assumptions (Steve Holsenback)
9. Beyond Expectations (Richard Johnson)
10. Beyond Routine (Mark McCurdy)
11. Beyond a Wooden Jesus (David Nellis)
12. Beyond Drunkenness (Rhonda Peters)
13. Beyond Bitterness (Ray Prince)
14. Beyond the Fear of Death (Brian Warne)
15. Beyond Human Plans (Ron Hamilton, David Wolf)
16. Beyond an Easy Life (Ruth Douglas)
17. Beyond a Father’s Warning (Helen Yazzie)
18. Beyond Shame (Lorraine Anderson)
19. Beyond Hopelessness (Marvin Anderson)
20. Beyond Idolatry (Linda Dawson)
21. Beyond Cultural Traditions (Leon Friend)
22. Beyond a Grudge (David Nellis)
23. Beyond Timidity (Tim Woodring)
24. Beyond Overwhelming Needs (Broken Arrow Bible Ranch staff)
25. Beyond Governmental Roadblocks (Bryon Brock, UIM Aviation staff)
26. Beyond the Visible (Jim Brock)
27. Beyond a Dying Battery (Jim Brock)
28. Beyond a Missing Document (Carol Burton)

29. Beyond Chance (Ruth Douglas)
30. Beyond an Empty Wallet (Juanita Fike)
31. Beyond Exhausting Trials (Juanita Fike)
32. Beyond the Deadly Jungle (Alan and Vickie Foster)
33. Beyond Biomedical Technical Difficulties (Jim Freer)
34. Beyond Incapacitating Fever (Scott Hayden)
35. Beyond a Closed Reserve (Jerry Holm)
36. Beyond a Chance Connection (Steve Holsenback)
37. Beyond a Missed Turn (Jim Brown)
38. Beyond Unwanted Adventures (Ann Kontz)
39. Beyond Mere Guests (Elaine Merrill)
40. Beyond Normal Roadside Service (Elaine Merrill)
41. Beyond Material Blessings (Doug and Barbara Nelson)
42. Beyond Retirement (Art and Emalou Norris)
43. Beyond an Empty Display Space (Rhonda Peters)
44. Beyond Nine Ears (Rhonda Peters)
45. Beyond Pain (Alice Shaver)
46. Beyond Control of Authorities (David Wolf)
47. Beyond Hunger (Tim Woodring)
48. Beyond Unworthy Feelings (Cheryl Ciresa)
49. Beyond Broken Relationships (Linda Dawson)
50. Beyond Repulsion (Juanita Fike)
51. Beyond Chocolate Pie (Rhonda Peters)
52. Beyond Turbulent Winds (Joe Swanson)
53. Beyond a Landslide (Rosemary Watson)
54. Beyond Animosity (Tom Munnerlyn)
55. Beyond the Known Story (Dale Beverly)
56. Beyond Self (Daniel Koster)
57. Beyond Impossibilities (Rock Nest Ranch staff)
58. Beyond Racing Flames (2003 UIM Missionary Development Program
attendees)
FOREWORD
By definition, the Gospel is “Good News.” But to state the
obvious seems so inadequate, and indeed it is. It’s like pointing to
the ocean and glibly stating, “There’s the ocean,” or to gaze upon
the sky at night and proclaim, “I’m looking at the Milky Way.”
Each statement would be true but woefully incomplete.
The Gospel is indeed good news, and it is succinctly articulated
by Paul in his epistle to the Corinthians, “Now I make known to
you, brethren, the gospel which I preached to you, which also you
received, in which also you stand, by which also you are saved,
if you hold fast the word which I preached to you, unless you
believed in vain. For I delivered to you as of first importance
what I also received, that Christ died for our sins according to the
Scriptures, and that He was buried, and that He was raised on the
third day according to the Scriptures” (1 Corinthians 15:1-4). The
Gospel of God’s grace is never less than what Paul declared in this
text, but there is still more to know and understand. Paul further
expands upon the truth of “the gospel” in at least 50 additional
references* in his various epistles.
The Gospel can never be less than what Paul expresses in such
concise, clear, and essential terms, but as one discovers the
expansive implications of the Gospel message, in doctrinal
expression and personal life change, its fullest glory is made vastly
more manifest.
In this work Juanita Fike offers us a way to revel in the glories
of the Gospel. As science attempts to explain the elements of the
universe and theology seeks to explain the truth of the Gospel,
each can be fully appreciated only when witness is given by those
whose lives have been eternally altered and all testimony is given
in praise and glory to God. Beyond the Fringes of God’s Ways
enables us to explore the expansive dimensions of God’s grace
and discover more deeply the unfathomable ways of God and His

Gospel in Jesus Christ. Creation surely declares the glory of God,
but His new creation in transformed lives abounds to the praise of
His glory! This is good news!
Dan Fredericks, Executive
Director
UIM International
*New Testament references to “The Gospel”: Matt. 4:23, 9:35,
11:5; Mk. 1:1, 14ff., 13:10, 14:9, 16:15; Lk. 3:18, 4:18, 7:22, 9:6,
16:16, 20:1; Acts 8:25 and 40, 14:7, 15, and 21, 15:7, 16:10, 20:24;
Rom. 1:1, 9, and 15ff., 11:28, 15:16 and 19ff.; 1 Co. 1:17, 4:15,
9:12, 14, 16, 18, and 23, 15:1; 2 Co. 2:12, 4:4, 8:18, 9:13, 10:14
and 16, 11:7; Gal. 1:7 and 11, 2:2, 5, 7, and 1,; 3:8, 4:13; Eph.
1:13, 3:6, 6:15 and 19; Phil. 1:5, 7, 12, 16, and 27, 2:22, 4:3 and
15; Col. 1:5 and 23; 1 Thess. 2:2, 4, and 8ff., 3:2; 2 Thess. 1:8; 2
Tim. 1:8 and 10; Phm. 1:13; 1 Pet. 1:12, 4:6 and 17.
PREFACE
“Fringes? Those are mere fringes of God’s ways?” I looked at
Michele in wide-eyed wonder.
Michele, daughter of UIM International missionaries, had asked
to be mentored, a privilege I accepted with joy. Per her request,
we embarked on a study of God’s attributes. Not until I actually
taught the lesson I had prepared concerning God’s power did a
glaring truth leap at me from Job 26:7-14.
Job said that God stretched the north over empty space and hung
the earth on nothing. He wrapped up water in His clouds and put
boundaries to the oceans. Then he concluded that those were mere
fringes of God’s ways (NAS).
How could Job compare God’s marvelous creation to mere
fringes—edges, marginal entities like threads dangling from a rug
or a blanket? What greater display of God’s power could there be
than His creative feats recounted in Job 26?
For several years I pondered this mystery. Not until I read
A Gospel Primer for Christians by Milton Vincent, pastor of
Cornerstone Fellowship Bible Church in Riverside, California,
did I discover the answer. Pastor Milton wrote: “. . . the power of
God in its highest density is found inside the gospel. This must be
so, for the Bible twice describes the gospel as ‘the power of God’
[Rom. 1:16; I Cor. 1:18]. . . . Such a description indicates that the
gospel is not only powerful, but that it is the ultimate entity in
which God’s power resides and does its greatest work.”
There it was, the Gospel, the core of God’s power. Acceptance
of Christ’s death, burial, and resurrection provides forgiveness
of sin and eternal life. It also makes possible for believers God’s
presence, His direction, His provision, and His comfort.

In these stories we see the power of the Gospel drawing some
people to Christ and working in, through, and on behalf of
others who know Him. Unquestionably, God’s majestic creation
demonstrates His awesome power, but power of the Gospel far
surpasses that seen in Job 26.
May these stories prompt heartfelt worship and praise of God
Almighty, who showed Himself powerful not only in creation but
even more so in His provision of abundant and eternal life through
the sacrifice of His Son. May they cause us to pray fervently for
those who have not yet experienced the Gospel’s transforming
power.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
My deep gratitude to all who helped to make this book a reality.
Most of the stories are from UIM International missionaries
(United Indian Missions, Inc.), but stories were also gleaned from
missionaries with Christian and Missionary Alliance; Indian Bible
College in Flagstaff, Arizona; International Christian School in
Thailand; New Tribes Mission; Northern Canada Evangelical
Mission; and Wycliffe Bible Translators, as well as from a First
Nations pastor in Canada and Good News Club teachers in the U.
S.
Heartfelt thanks to Byron Banks, Joyce Erfert, Martha Gushee,
Michael Hodgin, Martha Menne, Ruth Mortenson, Helen Waller,
and Eileen Lageer Warner for editorial suggestions and to
Esther Spieth for proofreading. Thanks, too, to Tom Wilson for
layout, Missionary Tech Team for the cover design, and all who
assisted in the publishing process. I am grateful as well for the
encouragement of UIM’s past general director, Warren Cheek, and
the current executive director, Dan Fredericks, and for all who
prayed for this project. The interest, insights, and encouragement
of Milton Vincent, pastor of Cornerstone Fellowship Bible Church
in Riverside, California, were also much appreciated.
Above all, I’m grateful that God prompted a fifteen-year-old MK
(missionary kid) to ask for mentoring. Our subsequent study of
His attributes nudged me into this writing venture.

1
Beyond Conditional Love
For five years Wycliffe Bible translator Lee Bramlett had
searched diligently for an analogy that would explain God’s
character and love to the Hdi people in Cameroon, Africa.
He had analyzed their daily activities and carefully observed their
monthly sacrifices to evil spirits that masqueraded as the spirits
of their ancestors. Surely God had left His footprint somewhere
within their culture, some familiar concept or event that could
serve as a powerful bridge to their understanding of His love.
Despite a relentless search, Lee found nothing.
One night in a dream it seemed that God said, “Lee, my
son, you’ve searched persistently for a key within the Hdi culture
that will help you to convey who I am. You and your wife, Tammi,
have discovered that Hdi verbs always end in ‘a,’ ‘i,’ or ‘u.’ Have
you noticed that the only Hdi verbs for ‘love’ are ‘dva’ and ‘dvi’?
Take a close look at ‘dvu.’”
As soon as convenient, Lee turned to his Hdi translation
committee, influential elderly men who were first generation
believers in Christ. “Could you ‘dvi’ your wife?” he asked.
“Yes,” one man replied. “That means that you did love her
but you don’t anymore.”
Lee paused. “Could you ‘dva’ her?”
“Yes,” the men agreed.
“What would that mean?”
“Well,” responded another man, “if your wife does things
you like, you ‘dva’ her. If she’s faithful and takes care of you, you
‘dva’ her.”
After a contemplative pause, Lee asked, “Could you ‘dvu’
your wife?”
The men erupted into laughter. “Of course not,” one of
them answered. “That’s impossible.”
“Why?” Lee asked. “What does ‘dvu’ mean?”
“If I ‘dvu’-d my wife, I’d have to keep loving her no matter
what she did.”
“If I ‘dvu’-d my wife,” explained another man, “I’d have
to love her even if she never got me any water or anything to eat.
Even if she gave herself to another man, I’d be compelled to love
her. No, we would never use the word ‘dvu.’ That kind of love
does not exist.”
Lee pondered the word love as expressed in John 3:16. In
Hdi, the word “dva” had been used in translating “God so loved the
world . . . .” Hdi Christians knew that God “dva-d” them if they
pleased Him, and they feared displeasing Him. Finally, he turned
to the men. “Could God ‘dvu’ people?”
Typical of the culture, the men sat quietly for several
minutes, their heads bowed. Untypically, tears began to trickle
down weathered faces. One of the men turned to Lee, his voice
edged with wonder. “Do you know what that means?”
Lee waited.
The man spoke slowly, awed by the thought that had just
invaded his mind. “If God dvus us, it means that He will never
stop loving us for thousands upon thousands of years, even though
we reject His love. That means He is compelled to love us even
though we have sinned more than any other people.”
Lee was ecstatic. God had revealed His footprint! He had
put within the Hdi language one simple vowel change that resulted
in immediate and profound comprehension of His unconditional
love. It communicated a love not based on who the Hdi were and
what they did but on who God is. It brought to the Hdi a new
understanding of the great I Am, accompanied by a deep sense of
awe.
For centuries that little word had been available but unused.
Now it called the entire Hdi belief system into question. Since
God loved them with “dvu” love, what should they do with their
sacrificial system? “Dvu” meant that God is loving, not vengeful
like the spirits of their ancestors. He loved them in spite of
their sin. He loved them enough to sacrifice His Son to take the
punishment for their sin.
Many Hdi began to turn from ancestor worship to trust
in Jesus as the only Mediator between God and themselves.

Many also began to practice God’s kind of love with their wives
and families, in relationships outside the family, and even with
enemies. Within a bit more than a decade after God revealed
His footprint in 1999, the number of Christ-followers among
the 29,000 Hdi grew from a few hundred to approximately eight
thousand.
The Hdi New Testament was printed in Korea in 2013 and
dedicated in December of that year. Each copy cost about $10
but was sold for $2.50, one and a half day’s wage. Out of deep
thankfulness to God, twelve wealthier believers paid $100 each.
All regarded God’s Word as priceless and were thrilled to own a
copy in their heart language. In 2014 the New Testament on an
MP3 player and the Jesus film dubbed in the Hdi language were
made available.
What a joy for the Bramletts to see Hdi believers reading
and listening to God’s Word. The changed behavior that occurred
in response to the Word was equally heartwarming. Previously,
Hdis had routinely watched poor neighbors starve to death without
providing assistance, lest they themselves might starve. After
learning of God’s “dvu love” and His command to “dvu” one
another, Christians began serving those within Christ’s body and
the poor outside the body. When a crop failed, a house burned,
or a widow, orphan, or someone else lacked food, the believers
provided.
Believing farmers and businessmen began creating wealth
to support the church and the poor, some giving as much as
25-30% of their income. They filled granaries with milo grain
(sorghum) to provide food for the poor. Christian women used
their treadle sewing machines to make clothing for the needy and
sometimes even bought clothing in the marketplace for them.
In 2015, two Hdi elders were overseeing twenty churches,
and one of those elders was translating the Old Testament.
God’s Word in the Hdi language is transforming lives.
With the change of one vowel, the Hdi in many mountain villages
have been impacted by passages such as John 3:16 (“. . . God so
dvu-d the world, that He gave His one and only Son . . . .”) and
Ephesians 5:25 (“Husbands, dvu your wives, just as Christ dvud
the church . . .”). Verses such as I John 4:11 (“. . . since God
so dvu-d us, we also ought to dvu one another.”) have further
revolutionized the behavior of Hdi Christians. “Dvu” love—
inexplicable, but powerful!

2
Beyond Mere Adventure
Sunlight eased its way into the star-studded sky as UIM
International missionary Frank Kratz turned off Route
15 and headed east into the rugged mountains of Sonora,
Mexico. Could he make the 160 miles from his home in Guaymas
to the Guarijío village of Cuba in one day? The “road” was
certainly not conducive to speed.
As he jolted along, he thought about Don Crecencio
Morales, the man from Cuba that the Christian bookstore owner
in Obregón had told him about. While purchasing a Bible and a
hymnbook, Mr. Morales had stated that no one had ever come to
teach the Bible in his village. Frank’s heart had been touched, and
he was determined to find Mr. Morales.
Rain hampered Frank’s progress. Ten hours after leaving
Guaymas, he reached the village of Nuri, still five miles from
Cuba. “¡Buenas tardes!” he greeted several men on horseback in
the town’s plaza.
“¡Buenas tardes!” they responded.
One of them went to find the mayor. When the mayor
arrived, Frank explained, “I’m trying to get to Cuba to teach the
Bible to Don Crecencio Quinto Morales and his family.”
“We need that teaching here,” the mayor interjected. “Our
priest left years ago and no one from the Church has been back
since. You may teach here.”
“Thanks, I’d like to, perhaps sometime in the future,” Frank
said, making a mental note of the mayor’s invitation. “Right now I
need to get to Cuba. How’s the road there?”
“Like a rocky riverbed! You’d better take a horse from
here.”
It was getting late and no horses were available. Frank
wanted to be out of the mountains before dark. He chatted a bit
and then headed back to Guaymas. The trip to Cuba would have to
wait.
A couple of months later Frank returned. The road between
Nuri and Cuba was passable, but barely. It took him most of two
hours to traverse the five miles. Finally the little village nestled at
the base of towering mountains came into view like a picture out
of National Geographic. Small, thatched-roofed adobe houses
huddled near a field of sugar cane. Attached to a tree at the side
of the road was a sign: “Pop. 200.” Two boys, each carrying a
machete, plodded down the center of the dusty road leading a burro
loaded high with firewood.
Frank spotted a man in white pants and shirt, sandals,
and a straw hat and stopped to ask, “¿Usted sabe donde vive Don
Crecencio?” (Do you know where Don Crecencio lives?)
“¡Sí, allí está su casa,” (Yes, there is his house.) replied the man,
pointing across the road.
Frank pulled up to the thatched-roofed adobe home and
knocked. A short man in his late twenties appeared at the door.
“¿Don Crecencio?” Frank asked.
“Sí, Señor. I am Don Crecencio.”
“¡Buenas tardes!” Frank greeted, extending his hand. “I am
Frank Kratz, a missionary Bible teacher from Guaymas. I heard of
you and have come to visit.”
“I can’t believe it! Come in, come in!” Don Crecencio
almost shouted. His one-room home was packed with extended
family members sitting on cots and chairs and standing in every
available space. Three or four of them held an open Bible.
“This is Frank Kratz, a missionary Bible teacher from
Guaymas,” Don Crecencio announced.
“Are you having a Bible study?” Frank asked.
“We’re trying to,” Don Crecencio replied, “but it’s difficult;
we can’t read very well. These teenagers are reading the Bible to
us.”
Frank knew then that he was on an amazing, God-designed
adventure. “I’ll be happy to teach you,” he said.
“Let’s invite our neighbors over this evening,” someone
suggested. One of the teenagers went to spread the news that a
missionary was there to teach the Bible and invite them to come.
That evening eight other people came; some had to stand behind

the cots.
Frank taught them all several choruses, and the family’s
two male guitar players learned the tunes along with the rest. Then
Frank read from the Bible and told about Jesus Christ’s death,
burial, and resurrection. “Salvation from sin comes only by God’s
grace through faith in Christ,” he explained.
A neighbor lady interrupted. “This Christ you talk about . .
. I want Him as my Savior.”
Overjoyed, Frank knelt with her on the dirt floor as she
thanked God for salvation made possible through Jesus Christ.
When she finished, Frank stood up, but the neighbor lady
remained kneeling. Don Crecencio’s mother, sitting on a cot,
struggled to a standing position and motioned to her two sons to
help her down onto the floor beside her neighbor.
“O Lord,” she prayed, “thank You for answering prayer
today. I’ve prayed for this day for more than twenty years, and we
prayed again just before our brother in Christ knocked at our door.
Thank You for sending him all the way from Guaymas and for
saving my neighbor, the first Christian in our village other than my
family.”
Then, with help, she got up and took Frank’s hand in
hers. “I trusted Christ as my Savior in Chihuahua when I was a
teenager,” she said. “I taught my sons about Him and told them
they could be saved by faith in Christ and the sacrifice He made by
dying on the cross and rising again. I taught them that the Bible is
God’s Word. That’s all I knew until now. God has answered my
prayers!”
Her sons had placed their faith in Christ and led their wives
and children to faith in Him. The grateful family urged Frank to
stay overnight. Before he left the next morning, he promised to
come again to teach them.
Frank invited a retired Navy dental assistant to accompany
him on his next trip. They flew with Mission Aviation Fellowship
from Guaymas to Nuri but were unable to land due to the condition
of the Nuri airstrip. Late the following Sunday afternoon, about
a month after Frank’s first visit, the two men drove to Cuba in
Frank’s 1967 Dodge van. They set up a portable generator and
showed a Christian film in Spanish to 130 of Cuba’s 160 residents.
Women and children especially were fascinated, most having never
even seen an electric light.
The next two days the dental assistant held a dental clinic
while Frank visited homes. He taught the families personal
hygiene and distributed small health kits containing a toothbrush,
toothpaste, a comb, soap, and a wash cloth. In the evenings he
taught God’s Word to more than a hundred people. By the time the
men were ready to leave, fifteen adults and six children had placed
their faith in Christ.
The morning the men prepared to leave, residents came
from every part of the village bringing thank-you gifts: a live
chicken, a jar of honey, a tin of lard, a jar of wild chili berries, a
squash, a lemon tea plant, and wild honeycomb. They gathered
around as Don Crecencio read Psalm 121 and prayed.
As the two men climbed into the van, Frank heard Don
Crecencio’s neighbor say, “Cuba seems different. We’re closer
to one another. It’s so much better now.” Christ had made a
difference.
Frank continued visits, and an increasing number of
villagers became Christians. As the group grew, they talked about
the need for a meeting place big enough to accommodate all of
them. Constructing one would be difficult. Getting roof beams
alone would entail a five-day journey to the mountains.
Undeterred by the difficulties, some men began felling
trees, some sawed them into logs, and other hauled the logs to the
village on burros. Still others built doors and window frames,
pews, and a pulpit. Some even crafted stained-glass windows.
When the building was finished, everyone gathered for
a dedication celebration, complete with a luscious feast. The
sound of joyful voices and the aroma of pit-roasted beef filled the
air. After the meal they had a ribbon-cutting ceremony, listened
to a Bible message, and gave testimonies. Twelve people were
baptized. Everyone sang heartily to the Lord, who had made it all
possible. One of the men had composed a song based on Psalms
67 and 73 specifically for the occasion.
The delightful adventure that began that memorable day

when Frank first entered the village of Cuba had had far-reaching
effects. By prompting Frank to take His Word to spiritually hungry
villagers, God had changed many lives for time and eternity.
3
Beyond Discouragement
If you don’t plan to learn more than you teach us, you won’t
make it here,” the village chief warned. “Our village has a
Catholic church, and we want unity. Don’t make waves.”
UIM International missionaries Doug and Sherrie Anderson had
been in Moricetown, British Columbia (B.C.), Canada, less than a
month. Doug assured the chief that he had not come to divide; his
goal was to teach Carrier Natives what the Bible says. He wanted
to teach God’s Word to a few men who could then teach others
and, eventually, plant a church.
In subsequent months the chief made numerous subtle
comments indicating that the churches should work together. Any
challenges to unity would be unacceptable. His comments and
people’s irregular attendance at the Andersons’ home Bible study
made the fulfillment of their goal seem unlikely. Nevertheless,
they continued to befriend and pray for the people in the
community.
After two years of hard work, Doug saw little progress. He
climbed a hill about ten miles from his home and gazed down on
the town. “Lord, I’m ready to quit,” he said. “I don’t have what
it takes. I’m tired of reminding people to come to the Bible study,
and I’m just not going to remind them anymore.”
He opened his Bible and read Isaiah 40:28-31: “Do you
not know? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting
God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired
or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. He gives
strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even
youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but
those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will
soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they
will walk and not be faint.”
Doug realized that his discouragement stemmed from
pride and self-reliance. He thought of 2 Corinthians 12 and Paul’s

pleading with the Lord to take away his “thorn in the flesh.” God
had told Paul that His grace was sufficient and that His power was
made perfect in weakness. For Christ’s sake, Doug knew that he
needed to follow Paul’s example and delight in his weakness, for,
as verse 10 said, “. . . when I am weak, then I am strong.” As he
pondered these truths, his focus shifted from circumstances to
God’s presence and faithfulness.
God-given rest and strength replaced Doug’s frustration
and discouragement. Late that afternoon he headed home trusting
God to “move mountains.” He would continue to pursue the work
to which he had been called.
That evening Doug and Sherrie waited for people to arrive
for the Bible study and were surprised to see the chief and his wife
arrive first. They had never been to the Anderson home before, let
alone to the Bible study.
The house was soon full of chatting people. When it was
time to settle down for the study, Doug began with enthusiasm,
encouraged by all who had come, especially the chief.
After the study everyone except the chief and his wife
left. “Doug,” the chief said, “we came to talk with you about our
village.” Doug realized then that they had not come for the Bible
study. ”Our village has many problems and needs help. I dreamed
that someone would come to teach my people the Bible so they
could teach others. I think you’re that person. Be bolder in your
teaching and tell the people what they need to hear.”
Doug could hardly believe his ears. Admittedly, the
chief’s behavior and openness to the Bible had changed since his
involvement with a charismatic Catholic group, but he was still
solidly Catholic. He did seem to have had a definite experience
with Christ and wanted people to turn to Him and to read the Bible.
This time he didn’t even mention unity. Doug was encouraged.
With renewed vigor the Andersons sought to build
relationships within the community. Doug hunted moose with
the men, and Sherrie formed friendships with the ladies. Several
people trusted Christ as Savior and began to grow in Him. A small
group began to form into what became Kyah Bible Fellowship.
Doug volunteered with the Moricetown Fire Department.
When the fire chief, who was not a Christian, heard that the
Fellowship needed a place to meet, he offered the use of the fire
hall, an amazing answer to prayer.
Gradually a few Native Christians became active in the
Fellowship. One gave a testimony at a community pancake
breakfast; another assisted with the children’s Sunday school.
Several couples attended the “Godly Husband/Wife Relationships”
class that Doug’s missionary dad taught. In less than a decade,
the Fellowship grew to fifteen people. They had their first
communion, dedicated a baby, and began financially supporting a
Native Bible teacher.
Despite signs of spiritual growth, discouragement
continued to plague Doug from time to time. “Honey,” Sherrie
would suggest, “why don’t you go out alone for another day of
prayer. God always meets with you and you usually return with a
more positive outlook and discover more open doors for ministry.”
During one such day of prayer, Doug poured out his heart.
“God, I just can’t seem to win any men to Christ. Women are
interested, but the fellowship has only one older man. When I
try to share Christ with men or talk with someone I think would
make a good church leader, I seem to drive them away from Christ
instead of toward Him.”
He thought of the admonition in James 4:2: “You do not
have because you do not ask.” He knew that he could not bring
about the desired results; the Lord’s work could be accomplished
only through the Lord’s strength, His Word, and prayer. “God,”
he prayed, “please bring five men who want to follow Christ.” He
was grateful for Adam, a man who loved the Lord. He had Bible
studies with Adam and helped him with reading. If only he had
five men to help plant a growing church.
One Sunday morning soon thereafter John Dumont, a
young villager, brought a stack of printed material and laid it in
front of Doug. “Doug, I want to follow Christ. Would you please
look over this material and tell me if it’s the right way to go?”
Doug was elated. John was hungry to know and follow
Christ! Could he be part of God’s answer to my prayer?
Seeing that the material was not biblically based,

Doug began a Bible study with John. Both men grew in their
relationship with Christ and developed a friendship. The two of
them encouraged each other and stood with each other through
difficult times.
God wasn’t finished answering prayer. Daren trusted
Christ after hearing the Gospel at the family camp at UIM’s Rock
Nest Ranch and became an integral part of Kyah Bible Fellowship.
Duane, a believer who had used and sold drugs, returned to Christ
and experienced drastic life change. Eventually he became an
elder in the Fellowship. Then Percy trusted Christ and grew in his
faith. Through the years God brought other encouragements as
well, like the pastor who repeatedly assured Doug that he had been
praying for him daily from the beginning of his B.C. ministry.
Men, women, and youth are coming to Christ; some are
assuming leadership responsibilities. Kyah Bible Fellowship is
growing and reaching out to the community. Through prayer God
turned the Andersons’ ministry around. He alone deserves the
credit.
4
Beyond Godless Squabbles
Could your aviation department use these solar-powered
MegaVoice MP3 players?” Wycliffe Summer Institute of
Linguistics missionary Wade Remer asked Bryon Brock,
director of UIM International’s aviation ministry. Wade explained
that the pocket-sized devices contained Charles Stanley sermons in
Spanish.
Bryon gladly accepted the players. He and his staff had
dreamed of a radio or player distribution ministry. They longed
to help new believers hear God’s Word in their own language and
become discipled. Was this God’s answer to their prayers?
Bryon gave the players to UIM’s Mexican board members
to distribute. Sometime later he heard an amazing story about a
lady called Teresa. She and her three children were studying the
Bible with the brother of Carlos, Teresa’s husband. Teresa had not
told Carlos about the study, for hearing about the Gospel always
upset him.
When Carlos’ brother heard about the players, he obtained
one for Carlos. A few days later Carlos insisted that Teresa and the
children come to the dining room table and be quiet. “Listen,” he
said, turning on the player. Teresa was astonished to hear someone
preaching. She never could have anticipated Carlos’ wanting to
listen to sermons or that that would become a frequent family
activity.
One day during a Bible study Teresa told Carlos’ brother
what had happened over the holidays. “In the twenty-five years
Carlos and I have been together, Christmas and New Year’s have
always been our worst times. He’s always gotten drunk and we’ve
ended up fighting, but not this year. He came home early with
Christmas dinner, and he didn’t open even one of the ten bottles of
wine that we had in the house. We had a great evening! The only
reason I can think of for such a drastic change is Charles Stanley’s
sermons.”

Bryon was encouraged. God was using those sun-powered
audio players to draw people into Son-powered lives. He promptly
gave UIM’s Mexican board members the next two hundred players
he received, praying earnestly that God would use them to bring
victory to many more lives.
5
Beyond Unreached Status
The monotonous drone of the airplane provided backdrop
for Michael Busenitz’s thoughts. He peered down on
mountain village after mountain village, his heart aching at
the thought of thousands of villagers without Christ. Nearly every
week this UIM International pilot flew Bible translators and church
planters from Chihuahua City, Mexico, to isolated mountain areas,
and nearly every week his heart was deeply stirred. Most villages
had tiny airstrips, but most had no missionary. The majority of the
people were trusting in a blend of animism and Catholic saints.
An idea sprouted as Michael pondered the fate of the
villagers. Would the large Mexican church that his family and
UIM pilot David Wolf and his wife attended be willing to reach
one of these villages for Christ? He and David could fly teams to
any village the church might choose.
Michael shared his God-given idea with a New Tribes
Mission (NTM) missionary who utilized UIM’s aviation services.
“How about focusing on El Dorado [fictitious name]?” the
missionary suggested. “It’s an unreached Mestizo village, and the
people have been asking for physical and spiritual help. Years ago
someone shared the Gospel with them, but no one has been there
recently.”
Michael took his idea to the Chihuahua City church leaders.
He explained that driving to El Dorado from Chihuahua City
would require a one-ton, four-wheel-drive truck and twelve hours,
the last eight just for the last ninety miles. “David and I could fly a
team there in less than ninety minutes, making weekend ministries
possible.”
The church leaders responded enthusiastically, as did the
doctors, nurses, dentists, and Bible teachers within the church.
Most of them were free on weekends and eager to help with such
an evangelistic outreach. Providing medical and dental services
could build trust and open doors for the Gospel.

After Michael flew the pastor and two church leaders to El
Dorado for a survey, the church began planning free medical and
dental clinics. In April 2005 Michael and David transported the
first team: two dentists, three physicians, and an anesthesiologist.
Dropping the medical and dental workers off in El Dorado, they
flew on to a mission station to assist some missionaries until time
to return for the team.
Villagers lined up at the clinic with eye problems,
malnutrition, infections, and other maladies. The village’s parttime
government doctor welcomed the assistance and camaraderie
of fellow professionals.
On Sunday morning the pilots returned for the team. The
air was calm as Michael neared El Dorado. He eased back on
the throttle and checked the altimeter. He rolled the plane into
a shallow left turn to check the airstrip. It was dry, but right in
the middle of it stood a horse. He pulled up, circled, and buzzed
the horse at full throttle about ten feet above it. By the time he
returned to land, the horse was nowhere in sight. The only sign
of life was a pickup load of exhausted team members on the ridge
above the village bumping over the dusty road to the airstrip. They
had seen 155 patients in a day and a half.
On another such trip two dentists and Eunice, the
anesthesiologist, treated more than 130 patients. Noting the team’s
loving, caring attitude, a local woman said to Eunice, “You’re
different from most outsiders. Are . . . are you Christians?” She
had heard of Christ years earlier from UIM missionary Ron
Hamilton and some Mexican evangelists who had visited the
village.
“Yes,” Eunice answered, “we are.” Other women began
asking about the team members and what they believed. They
told Eunice that the people in their village had become hardened
through years of growing and selling illegal drugs and that many of
the men had been murdered.
After each clinic session the patients begged the team to
return, which they did monthly, except for August during the rainy
season. At times non-professionals accompanied the group to help
remodel the clinic. In September an evangelist and his wife came
along to tell the people about Jesus. Most of them were interested,
and some even cried when they heard that Jesus had sacrificed
His life to pay for their sin. That month seven people believed
in Christ as their personal Sin-bearer; the following month nine
placed their trust in Him.
On one trip after flying the team to El Dorado, Michael and
David flew to a village about twenty minutes away to visit a lonely
NTM couple. They planned to return early Sunday morning to fly
the team home in time for their church’s twenty-third anniversary
celebration. However, Sunday morning dawned with heavy clouds
shrouding the peaks and valleys around them. They learned from
contacting the team that clouds covered the El Dorado area, too.
They promised to come for the team later in the day if weather
permitted; otherwise they’d come Monday.
Clouds, fog, and rain persisted. The pilots worshipped
with the NTM missionaries and helped with more projects; the
tired medical team used their unexpected free time to visit and
read Scripture to the villagers. Several people placed their faith
in Christ. The clouds remained all day, but Monday was a perfect
day to fly.
The villagers had a history of distrusting outsiders, but
they had warmly welcomed the medical and dental teams. They
showed appreciation by helping to carry equipment from the
airstrip to the clinic; some new Christians demonstrated their
gratitude by inviting team members to eat and sleep in their homes.
Eighty-five people professed faith in Christ that year.
Team members and their church family rejoiced as
increasing numbers of villagers found freedom in Christ. The
ministry continued until halted by increased regional violence.
That, however, did not occur until more than two hundred men,
women, and children had become new creations in Christ. He was
building His Church!

6
Beyond Happenstance
UIM International missionary Ruth Douglas maneuvered her
Jeep Cherokee slowly through the swirling snow and over
an increasingly slippery highway. She was thankful for
minimal traffic as she made her way home to Vanderwagen, New
Mexico, from a children’s Bible class on the Navajo Reservation.
Confident of God’s help on the hundred-mile drive, she prayed
that He would keep her out of the ditch and safe from oncoming
vehicles.
Suddenly a blue pickup sped around her and disappeared
into the blinding snow. “Foolish!” Ruth muttered. “This isn’t the
weather or the place for a car race.”
A short distance up the highway Ruth spotted the pickup in
a ravine, smashed against a tree. Cautiously she tapped the brakes
to a stop. Grabbing her first aid kit, she slid down the side of the
ravine, grateful for emergency medical training.
The pickup doors were still closed, but the windows were
shattered. The lone occupant was bleeding excessively from her
forehead. Ruth retrieved gauze from her kit and pressed it firmly
against the wound. “Where are you from?” she asked as she
worked.
“Navajo.” Just twenty-five miles from home, Ruth thought.
“Do you know where you will spend eternity?”
“No,” the lady replied weakly.
“You can know,” Ruth said lovingly, still applying pressure.
“The Bible, God’s Word, tells us how.” She explained the Gospel
simply and then told the woman that if she believed that Jesus
is God and died to pay for her sin, she would be with Him the
moment she took her last breath.
Ruth paused. “Do you know you’re a sinner?”
The woman nodded.
“Do you believe that Jesus is God and died to pay for your
sin?”
Again the woman nodded.
“The moment you believed in Him, He forgave you,” Ruth
said. “Here, press this bandage tightly against your forehead while
I go up to the highway to get some help.”
With difficulty she climbed the side of the snow-covered
ravine to the highway. Three vehicles drove by before one
stopped. “Would you please notify the police about this accident?”
Ruth requested. “That lady is bleeding profusely and needs to get
to the hospital.”
The couple promised to do so and handed Ruth a blanket.
Returning to the pickup, she covered the lady and continued to
apply pressure for nearly an hour before the police and ambulance
arrived.
Precious minutes vanished as the EMTs struggled to get the
stretcher up the side of the ravine. Ruth followed the ambulance
the forty miles to Fort Defiance Indian Hospital. With an icy road
and snow still falling, the trip was a difficult challenge. Time crept
by. Ruth’s heart pounded as she thought of the blood loss.
When she reached the hospital, she parked and walked to
the emergency room. The doctor looked up. “She died,” he said
quietly.
Tears flooded Ruth’s eyes, but her heart rejoiced. She
thanked God for putting her at the right place at the right time. The
woman had heard His truth and trusted in Christ before it was too
late. By His grace, God had saved her new Navajo “sister” for all
eternity.

7
Beyond Manmade Schedules
Dave Hamilton groaned. “What’s wrong?” his father, Ron,
asked.
“The tail tire just blew,” he said. The two of them, both
UIM International missionaries, had just landed in UIM’s Cessna
185 at Tesopaco in northwestern Mexico. They were en route
from Tucson, Arizona, to the Sierra Madre Mountain village of
Nuri, their monthly rendezvous site with seminary students from
Guaymas. Arriving on a Monday, they always spent Tuesday
through Friday sharing the Gospel and discipling believers in
mountain villages. Their goal was to plant biblically sound
indigenous churches.
As the men changed the tire, they reveled in the clear, cool
air and spectacular view—flat land on the west, rolling hills on the
east. Task completed, they delivered Bibles to a native pastor and
then flew the short distance on to Nuri.
The seminary students arrived ten minutes after they
landed. After a squadron of Mexican soldiers searched and
interrogated all of them, they spent the rest of the day singing,
praying together, visiting townspeople, and discussing the week’s
plans.
At daybreak on Tuesday Dave transported five teams to
villages and then took supplies to several New Tribes missionaries
in other villages.
Friday morning the return ferrying operation began. The
first group to return washed up at the river before sauntering
over to the drug patrol soldiers’ campsite. They hoped for an
opportunity to share the Gospel. The soldiers were welcoming,
grateful for a break from their dangerous task. A couple of hours
later the students got up to return to the rest of the group.
“Come back and have supper with us this evening,” the
soldiers invited.
“We’d love to,” one student replied, “but as soon as
everyone’s back, we’ll be leaving for Guaymas.”
By late morning Dave arrived with the last team. He told
his dad he had to deliver supplies to another missionary family yet
but should be back by one o’clock. “That way we can refuel and
get back to Tucson before dark,” he said. While they waited, the
students walked into town seeking more witnessing opportunities.
One o’clock . . . two o’clock . . . three o’clock. Dave still
had not returned. Disturbing thoughts scuttled through Ron’s
mind. Flying in the rugged Sierra Madres was not a leisurely
activity. Airstrips were short and rough. Unanticipated updrafts
and sudden storms were not uncommon, neither was finding
animals on runways. Even mesquite and pine trees along landing
strips could be problematic at some elevations.
Ron turned to Job, his Mexican colleague. “Dave should
have been here long before now. Let’s go pray together.”
The two of them walked onto the airstrip and asked God for
Dave’s safety. “Lord,” Ron prayed, “whatever the reason for the
delay, bring glory to Yourself.”
About four o’clock they heard the hum of the approaching
Cessna. It dropped onto the dirt runway and bounced to a halt.
Out stepped Dave, tired but smiling, aware of relieved facial
expressions. “The spare tire picked up a mesquite thorn and blew,”
he explained. “Since I didn’t have another spare, I had to patch the
tube.”
“We’re just thankful you’re here,” Ron replied, “but it’s too
late now for our three-hour flight to Tucson or the students’ fourhour
drive to Guaymas. We may as well stay the night.” Dave
nodded agreement.
Ron turned to the students who had befriended the soldiers.
“You fellows may as well accept that supper invitation.”
Those students ambled over to the soldiers’ camp and asked
if the invitation were still open. “Our pilot returned too late for us
to get home before dark,” they explained.
“Sure. Glad you could eat with us,” the soldiers replied.
During the meal and visit around the campfire, four soldiers
responded to the students’ message of salvation through faith in
Jesus Christ. The students returned to their campsite awed and

elated that a God-designed delay had resulted in eternal life for
four new brothers in Christ!
8
Beyond Mistaken Assumptions
Steve Holsenback’s childhood prayers consisted of thanking
God for his parents, his brother, his uncle, his dogs, and his
bike. His parents loved and cared for him and indulged most
of his wants. He had the beach (he loved to surf), a fishing pole,
and a best friend. Life was marvelous and uncomplicated. His
mother enrolled him and his brother in a Catholic school and took
them to mass on Sundays.
One day young Steve “borrowed” his dad’s high school
ring and soon lost it. His dad casually mentioned that it was
missing and asked Steve if he knew where it was.
“No, of course not,” Steve responded.
Later Steve admitted his transgression and waited for
just punishment. His dad just hugged him and thanked him for
acknowledging what he had done. Then his dad excused himself
for a moment and returned with a ring just like the one that had
been lost. “Son, I will never hold against you what you did,” he
promised. Steve could hardly imagine it! His dad had paid the
price for his wrongdoing.
When Steve was 12, his parents divorced and his life
crumbled. His mom quickly adapted, finding a job to augment
child support, but church was never the same. Catholics did
not take kindly to having a divorced woman in their midst and
suggested she get an annulment. She refused; the divorce had not
been her idea. She had always looked out for the best interests of
her two God-given sons and was not going to bastardize them.
Steve pondered what kind of god would want a mother to
get an annulment in order to enter his presence. Certainly not any
god he wanted anything to do with. Consequently, he discarded
the god he perceived as unfair and unjust and quit praying. For the
next eleven years he dissociated himself from any higher power,
relying on his own power and abilities. Surfing and drugs became
a regular part of his life.

After two years of college, Steve dropped out and began
to investigate religion. He hung out with Krishnas, Buddhists, and
fellow hippies, the religion of self. Most “Christians” he knew
were similar to Catholics, only a bit more dogmatic. Their god
seemed the same. He was keenly aware that his self-indulgent
lifestyle, fornication, and drugs were “sin,” and he had no doubt
that he would burn in hell for them.
One Friday a petite, beautiful girl named Heather walked
into the REI store where Steve worked as a boot fitter. He won a
rock-paper-scissors contest with his coworkers for the right to help
her find the rain gear she was looking for. Within minutes he was
hooked. He asked her for her phone number so he could arrange a
bike ride with her.
The next afternoon he called. To his chagrin, she was on
her way to church. What about Sunday morning? Nope, busy at
church. How about Sunday evening? She was going to church,
but she consented to meet him for a glass of wine afterward. She
seemed way too normal and cute to be a freak, and since she
agreed to meet him, he disregarded her obsession with church.
The two of them were never at a loss for words. Heather
explained her weekend and filled him in on what church she went
to. She told him about the church nursery she supervised and gave
him a brief review of her childhood. Steve responded in kind,
including his frustrations with religion. He realized that the God
Heather followed was distinctly different from the one to whom he
had been introduced.
At the end of the evening Steve asked if he could see her
again. Man was she busy: work, Bible study, workouts. Her next
free day was Sunday. “Want to join me at church and for lunch
afterwards?” she asked.
At church Steve sat in the infant nursery while Heather
cared for the one- and two-year-olds. The father of little Josiah
sat with Steve at the back of the nursery. As they talked, Josiah’s
dad learned of Steve’s background and spiritual struggles and
explained his own personal walk through Catholicism to Christ.
When nursery duty was over, Steve and Heather listened
to the sermon together. It was all so foreign to him. His dad was
Protestant but never went to church or spoke about God, except
to protest when Steve’s mom begged him to join them for church.
In Steve’s mind, Catholics were Christians and Protestants were
atheists.
Before long Steve consented to join Heather at Bible
studies and was amazed to find the people there normal: shorts, T-
shirts, flip-flops, long hair. They were the kindest and most sincere
people he had ever met.
During one Sunday evening study Steve recognized his sin
for what it was. “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory
of God” (Romans 3:23). That meant him; he was guilty. “. . . the
wages of sin is death . . .” (Romans 6:23). He was sentenced to
death? Couldn’t he just confess his sin to a priest and move on?
Did this mean that without someone paying for the sin in his life he
would be eternally separated from God and Heaven?
Steve mulled over God’s funny system of sacrifice in the
Old Testament. It demanded that a spotless or perfect lamb be
sacrificed by the high priest once a year to atone for the sins of the
Israelites. They could not pay or pray their way out of their sins;
they had to keep sacrificing, even though there was no such thing
as a truly perfect lamb.
Then Christ entered the scene. “. . . in Christ all the
fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form” (Colossians 2:9). Jesus
was fully man and fully God, therefore without sin (Hebrews
4:15). He said, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one
comes to the Father except through Me” (John 14:6). Oh, so Christ
Himself was the only way he could be forgiven permanently of his
sin? No Mary? No St. Christopher? Nope. “Except through Me”
was very specific. Why Christ alone? Why not Buddha? God
simply said that Jesus was the only way to heaven. Was there any
evidence that Mohammed or countless others were sinless and
could have paid for sins? No!
Steve’s understanding was deepening. Because Christ led
a sinless life, He could be the once-for-all sacrifice for his sin. If
he accepted that gift, he would stand justified before a holy God.
“For it is by grace you have been saved [from eternal separation
from God in the fires of Hell, not just from simple death] through

faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not
of works [something he couldn’t earn], so that no one can boast”
(Ephesians 2:8-9). Steve was overwhelmed as he realized what
God had done.
As he contemplated these Scriptural truths, the Christ-laden
cross with which he had grown up suddenly made sense. His sins
had put Christ there. Christ had done that for him. Christ would
have done it just for him. Unsuccessful and miserable trying to
live life as he wished, he dropped to his knees before God and
wept, asking for forgiveness for his mountain of sin. His legs
literally shook as he submitted his life to the lordship of Christ.
Coffee time with Heather after that Bible study was very
different from any previous conversation as she unraveled more of
this glorious mystery.
Steve’s walk with God had its ebbs and flows, but it
continued in the direction of knowing Christ more intimately.
He finally grasped the fact that Christianity is more than simply
knowing Christ and following His commands; it’s becoming like
Him. God, his Heavenly Father, was the only source of good
things in his life, and his walk with Christ, as flawed as it was, was
ordained by Him.
Steve recalled the childhood incident in which he had taken
his dad’s ring, lost it, and lied about taking it. The grace that his
earthly father had shown him was but a shadow of the grace God
bestowed upon him when he accepted salvation through Christ’s
atoning death. Now he wanted to live for Christ.
Having found the invaluable Treasure he had sought, He
longed to share it with others who were searching. “. . . faith
comes from hearing the message, and the message is heard through
the word of Christ” (Romans 10:17). “. . . if you confess with your
mouth, ‘Jesus is Lord,’ and believe in your heart that God raised
Him from the dead, you will be saved” (Romans 10:9). “How,
then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how
can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And
how can they hear without someone preaching to them? And how
can they preach unless they are sent?” (Romans 10:14-15a). Christ
had commanded those who know Him to take His Word to the ends
of the earth, to every tribe and tongue (Matthew 28:18; Acts 1:8).
Steve and Heather were married and entered medical school
to prepare to respond to that call. They finished medical training,
raised prayer and financial support, and spent a year in France
learning French. Then they moved to Mali, Africa, and became
missionary doctors at the Christian and Missionary Alliance
hospital. They’re there to treat people’s physical ailments, but that
is not their primary focus. Why get people well only to have them
end up in hell? The Gospel must be proclaimed. A sure hope in
Jesus Christ far exceeds the importance of physical health.

9
Beyond Expectations
Young Richard Johnson’s parents sensed the doctor’s
concern. “Your son has all the signs of rheumatic fever.
I hesitate to label him with that diagnosis because it’s a
tag that could follow him the rest of his life. As a pre-existing
condition, it could cause problems with his health insurance.
I’m going to chart only his rheumatoid arthritis, which is his
predominant symptom. That way, he’ll have fewer difficulties
with health care agencies in the future. He has no permanent heart
damage that we can detect now. We’ll admit him to the hospital
and watch him for a while.”
Ten days later, Richard was released but confined to bed
for three months, a tough assignment for a ten-year-old. When
he returned to school, it was with a list of rules: no sports, no
running, and no fast walking. Physical exertion could cause a
relapse, and if he got strep throat, it could be fatal. He had to take
antibiotics, especially at the time of invasive procedures such as
dental work.
Through the years Richard’s swollen joints and back pain
worsened. He was often bedridden for three or four days at a time,
especially during the winter. Aspirin helped, but the necessary
high doses resulted in stomach problems and severe ringing in his
ears. For more than two decades he dealt with these conditions
and came to expect several occurrences each year, each worse than
the previous one.
For several months at age thirty-five, Richard could not tie
his shoes, dress himself, or fasten his belt or buttons. He could not
hold a steering wheel, and his reaction time was too slow for him
to operate a vehicle safely. Walking was done with the help of two
canes.
One day a neighbor who had talked with him about God
a few times challenged him to attend church. “We’d love to have
you,” he said.
Richard and his second wife normally didn’t discuss
religious things, but both were curious about the kind of church
this man attended. Was it a weird, shouting, snake-handling sort?
One Sunday morning they summoned courage and visited the
little church nestled in a cluster of trees just off a dirt road in rural
Arkansas hills. About thirty farmers and their extended families
welcomed them warmly.
Noticing Richard’s canes, a kind older man said, “I see you
have a real problem. We’d like to pray for you.”
Weird! Richard thought. “For me?” he responded.
“Yes, we would really like to pray for you.”
“Whatever. Have at it,” Richard replied. Neither his
various trips to the VA hospital nor his shopping bag full of
medications had helped his twenty-five-year-old problem, nor
would any amount of praying. He could never be good enough to
please God, so why would God do anything for him? He had tried
to be the kind of person God expected him to be, like trying to curb
what came out of his filthy mouth, and he had always failed. He
recognized other sins in his life and tried to change, but inevitably
he reverted to his old ways. He finally realized that he was unable
to change and believed that he was destined to hell and could do
nothing about it.
The pastor invited him to the front of the church, where
twelve to fifteen men, mostly older church leaders, gathered
around him. “Elders of the church are to pray for the sick,” the
pastor explained. One of them dabbed some oil on Richard’s
forehead, much to his displeasure, and all of them put their hands
on him and began praying and quoting Scriptures.
So much for that, Richard thought as he returned to his seat.
It’s nice they wanted to pray for me and that they expect God to
heal me, but my condition hasn’t changed.
Over the next two weeks, however, his symptoms
completely disappeared. He walked, dressed, and even drove a
car without help. He completed projects that had been impossible
before, and he was able to return to his regular work, a huge
blessing since his family was in grave financial straits. Had God
done this or was it some kind of coincidence? Would it last?

Maybe it was just a temporary reprieve and he’d have a worse bout
later. Questions filled his skeptical mind, but he did not pursue
medical confirmation. He didn’t have a lot of trust in doctors nor
did he have insurance or money to waste on doctors’ speculations.
He was feeling okay, so why pay out money needlessly?
One day Richard’s Christian coworker said, “Richard,
when God gives you a gift, He doesn’t take it away.” That stuck
in Richard’s mind. He was still skeptical, but each time his joints
started to swell and hurt, he affirmed that God had given him the
gift of healing and would not take it away. He even thanked Him.
The back and joint problems did not return. Richard’s
experience in that little country church with those obedient
believers had not been coincidence. He had been looking for God
most of his life. Now, even though he still did not fully understand
the Gospel and had not trusted Jesus as his Savior, he recognized
his healing as a God-given miracle—a gift, something not earned.
Why would God heal me? he wondered.
More than twenty years after that prayer service Richard
and his third wife, Carolyn, began what they hoped would be
an around-the-world journey on a small sailboat. While in the
Virgin Islands, they heard of a much bigger and better boat for
sale in Tortola, British Virgin Islands. Since it needed only a bit of
cosmetic work but nothing major, they purchased it.
On their way south toward the Panama Canal, they stopped
in Trinidad to repair the rudder and paint the bottom, a two-week
task at the most. However, since Trinidad was considered a
hurricane-safe zone, they decided to spend a bit more time there
on some minor cosmetic work. The “minor” work became major:
a very expensive paint job, new rigging, sail repairs, replacement
of all stainless steel, the building of new water tanks, installation
of water makers and an electrical system, and the rebuilding of a
diesel generator. The anticipated two-week stay had turned into
nearly two years by the time they were finished.
The delay was not without divine purpose. Raised
Catholic, Carolyn had no intention of becoming anything else.
She was a “good person.” In contrast to Richard, she would
never think of cheating, lying, or taking advantage of someone—
characteristics that had attracted him to her. He had consented
to go to church with her, but while in Trinidad he decided not to,
insisting that the priest was just using the people for his own gain.
Carolyn felt strongly that they should worship together,
so they began attending a nondenominational service in Trinidad.
They both learned a lot about Christ. Carolyn became involved in
a ladies’ Bible study and together they participated in a couples’
Bible study. The pastor’s weekly sharing of the Gospel was what
opened Carolyn’s spiritual eyes. “Oh,” she exclaimed one day,
“Jesus died for me!” When she made known her desire to join
the church, the pastor quizzed her. Had she really understood and
accepted the gift of salvation? She had and several weeks later
made a public proclamation of her faith through water baptism.
Reading The Gift of God by Dick Seymour which the
church had given him, Richard realized he could do nothing to earn
salvation; it was a gift. Scripture said, “. . . While we were still
sinners, Christ died for us.” Jesus had already done everything
necessary. Richard finally understood that spiritual healing was as
much a gift as was physical healing. Keenly aware that he was a
sinner, he trusted in the sacrificial death and resurrection of Jesus
Christ on his behalf.
The Johnsons no longer desired to live for themselves. In
2004, a year after they had become new creations in Christ, and
longing to know the Word better, they sailed back to the States
and attended Frontier School of the Bible in LaGrange, Wyoming.
In 2006, a year before graduating from Bible school, they joined
UIM International intending to pursue a boat ministry, but after
much prayer and seeking God’s direction, they concluded that the
boat was not in His plans. They sold it to missionaries headed to
Mexico and Puerto Rico.
Though they could pay God nothing for His lavish gift
of salvation, they could serve Him wherever He led, and they
determined to do so with their whole hearts. He called them to
the Mixteco people in Oaxaca, Mexico, and following His will
has brought them great contentment. He has provided many
opportunities for involvement in Christian camps and community
ministry projects. Richard helps with construction projects

and installs solar electricity. He provides water heating and
purification and bio-digester septic systems. He also demonstrates
gardening and composting for the benefit of the indigenous people
of Mexico. Carolyn teaches English as a springboard for sharing
the Gospel. Both delight in telling others about God’s gift of the
Savior and long for others to know and live for Him.
10
Beyond Routine
UIM International pilot Mark McCurdy and fellow
missionary Ron Hamilton landed in Yecora, Mexico,
where each Monday for thirty years Ron had met Mexican
pastors and seminary students. They had spent most of a week in
remote mountain villages telling people about Jesus. Many had
trusted in Him, and several churches had been planted.
A few minutes after the missionaries landed, the students
and pastors from Guaymas, Sonora, arrived. The group spent the
evening dividing into teams and catching up with each other’s
activities.
Tuesday morning Mark flew each team to its assigned
village, beginning with villages having the most challenging
airstrips. Lastly he took Ron’s team to Palmarito, Chihuahua,
where he also stayed. For three days the teams visited homes,
shared the Gospel, and discipled those who had trusted Christ
previously.
Friday morning Mark flew part of the Palmarito team back
to Yecora and then went for the other teams. Finally, he returned
to Palmarito for Santos Rodriquez, a pastor whom Mark had
come to esteem. Santos had been on Mark’s very first trip there
years earlier when Mark was considering possible involvement
in this ministry. Despite diabetes, high blood pressure, and
heart problems, Santos shared the Gospel unashamedly at every
opportunity. Now in his seventies, he hiked the mountain trails
with men much younger than he.
On his way back to the rendezvous site Mark landed in the
village of Mesa Colorado for another evangelist. While there, he
met Mauricio, a Mexican Public Health Department official who’d
been working on a malaria survey. “I need to get to Yecora to
catch a bus,” he told Mark. “I wonder if I could catch a ride with
you.”
UIM’s pilots were cautious about whom they gave free

ides, but accommodating government workers was good for
public relations and might well open doors for the Gospel, so Mark
agreed.
The plane was barely off the ground when Mark noticed
that Santos and Mauricio were engrossed in conversation. Though
he couldn’t hear what they were saying, he felt certain that Santos
was telling Mauricio about Christ. That would be typical. Ten
minutes later they landed in Yecora, and Mark learned that
indeed Santos had told Mauricio about Jesus’ death, burial, and
resurrection and how he could know Him personally.
At the airstrip they were met by the local pastor, who took
them to the church where the other team members were waiting.
The team welcomed Mauricio and invited him to watch videos
with them. In the process, he learned more about Jesus Christ and
trusted in Him as his Savior before the day was over.
Providing a free ride, though not routine, had led to
freedom in Christ!
11
Beyond a Wooden Jesus
Every week twelve-year-old Gabina attended mass in the
Chatino village of Tiltepec in Mexico’s southern state of
Oaxaca. She would kneel before a wooden statue of Jesus
and pray the Lord’s Prayer, and each time she walked out feeling
lonely, empty, and confused. She often wondered what sense there
was in praying to a piece of wood and how she could really learn
to know God.
One day two strangers came to her family’s home, and her
father invited them in. They introduced themselves and then one
of them said, “We’ve come to tell you about this Book, the Bible.
It’s God’s Word. It tells us that every one of us has sinned. That
means we’ve disobeyed God. Here, let me read it to you.” He
opened the Bible and read in Spanish, “. . . all have sinned and fall
short of the glory of God.”
Gabina’s mother translated everything the visitor said
into Chatino so Gabina’s father could understand. The stranger
continued, “God’s Word also tells us that sinners will die for their
sin, not just physically but spiritually, too. That means they’ll be
separated from Him forever.
“But the Bible also contains Good News. Listen.” He
flipped to another place and read, “For God loved the world so
much that he gave his one and only Son, so that whoever believes
in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”
Looking around at the family members, the man asked,
“Does anyone know what that means?” No response.
“That means that God loved each one of us too much to let
us die for our own sin. Since He wants us to be with Him forever,
He sent Jesus, His sinless Son, to earth to take the punishment we
deserve. He purposely let evil men nail Jesus to a piece of wood
called a cross and let Him die in our place. After being in the
grave for three days, Jesus walked out alive, victorious over death.
He could do that because He was God. God’s Word tells us that if

we believe that He died for us and rose again, He’ll forgive our sin.
We won’t ever have to be separated from Him again, even after our
physical bodies die.”
That sounded almost too good to be true, but all of
Gabina’s family members there that day believed what the Bible
said about Jesus. Gabina was so happy to hear that He had loved
her enough to die for her sin. And to think that He had walked out
of His grave! He wasn’t a lifeless wooden statue; He was alive!
Her emptiness and loneliness disappeared. She finally knew God,
but she wanted to know Him better.
Unknown to Gabina’s family, one of her brothers had
become a Christian earlier without telling any of them. He was
overjoyed when he learned that the whole family now believed in
Jesus. He gave Gabina a Spanish Bible and told her to read it and
learn more about God and His way.
Gabina loved to read the Bible, and she wanted to share
everything she learned. She went from house to house in the
village telling others about Jesus. When she turned thirteen, she
began gathering children at her home and teaching them about
Him. At first nine children came; soon sixty were coming. If
any failed to come to a lesson, she sent someone for them so they
wouldn’t miss anything.
One day a foreign family moved into a rented adobe house
in the middle of the village. Forty children, including Gabina,
gathered around, curious to see what the foreigners had in their
many boxes. “Can we help?” they asked Wycliffe Translators
David and Wendy Nellis. Occasionally the Nellises asked one of
them to run an errand. They gave a cookie to everyone who helped
and two cookies if they brought a bucket of water from the village
water hole.
After the children left, Wendy said, “David, that one girl,”
referring to Gabina, “seems different from the rest. Most of the
children speak only Chatino, but she also speaks fluent Spanish.
Her face and eyes glow, and she seems interested in what we’re
doing.”
Later that evening Wendy mentioned something else to
David that had been bothering her. “Our little girl’s diaper pail is
filling up fast. I need to do laundry, but I have no idea where or
how the villagers do their laundry. I could also use some help in
the kitchen.”
David thought a moment. “Suppose we could hire
that teenage girl who speaks Spanish? Why don’t you ask her
tomorrow.”
Seeing the girl the next day, Wendy asked, “Young lady,
what’s your name?”
“Gabina,” she stated, smiling.
“Would you like to help me with laundry and kitchen work?
“You’ll need to come to my house and ask my father,”
Gabina responded.
That afternoon Wendy took a glass jar of macaroni and
went to Gabina’s house. The family would likely appreciate the jar
as much as the macaroni, since it could keep coffee fresh and bugs
out of food.
After introducing herself to Gabina’s parents, Wendy turned
to her father. “My husband and I were wondering if we could hire
Gabina to help in the kitchen and with our laundry.”
As soon as Gabina’s mother translated Wendy’s Spanish
into Chatino, Gabina’s father gave his approval. Gabina could go
to the Nellises’ house the next day.
When Wendy left, Gabina’s father cautioned, “Gabina,
those people might be Communists. I’ve read about Communist
foreigners going into other countries and trying to influence
children toward Communist beliefs. Be very careful. Take The
Four Spiritual Laws booklet and give it to them as soon as you
arrive. If they receive it, they have good hearts and probably aren’t
Communists, but if they don’t want it and pay no attention to it,
come home immediately.”
Early the next morning Gabina walked to the Nellis home.
She was surprised to see a Bible lying on the table. She handed
The Four Spiritual Laws pamphlet to David and told him that her
father had sent it. “We want to know if you know about Jesus.”
David glanced through the pamphlet. “Wonderful!” he
exclaimed. “This is exactly what we believe. It’s the story about
how to be saved from our sin through Jesus Christ. We’ve trusted

Him as our Savior. Have you?”
“Yes!” Gabina beamed, thrilled to know that these
strangers also knew Jesus. She could hardly wait to tell her father.
Gabina loved working for these Jesus-believers. Eagerly
she helped Wendy to shop for food and clean the house.
Sometimes she took care of Janeil, their toddler. When it was time
to do the laundry, she showed Wendy where the villagers washed
clothes and helped with that task.
One day David and Wendy told Gabina that they wanted
to learn Chatino so they could make God’s Word speak Chatino.
Overjoyed, Gabina began helping them to learn it, eager for the
day her people could read God’s Word in their own language. The
Good News about Jesus was so important, and she wanted every
one of them to hear it. Most of them still worshipped a wooden
statue, but Jesus was real and alive! She knew personally what a
difference He could make in their lives.
12
Beyond Drunkenness
Thirty-six-year-old Albert Peecheemow was seething with
anger. He had just had an argument with his girlfriend.
He shoved his truck into gear and jerked it forward in
his drunken rage. “I don’t know if I’ll get where I’m going,” he
muttered, hurtling down the road.
The road from Little Red River Cree Nation in northern
Alberta, Canada, to Fort Vermilion was treacherous, especially at
night. Albert’s erratic driving terrified his mother, Margaret, and
two young nephews. “Don’t worry,” Albert grumbled, “I’ll kill
myself on the way, and I don’t care if I do.”
“Albert, slow down!” his mom implored. “You’ll kill all of
us.”
The four of them had already made one three-hour trip to
Fort Vermilion to move their possessions. This time their load
consisted of a washer, a dryer, a freezer, and numerous boxes
of household articles. One item after another tumbled off and
smashed into bits as the speeding truck zigzagged down the road.
Margaret’s attempts to reason with Albert fell on deaf ears. “We’ll
be lucky if we make it as far as Wabasca Road,” he said repeatedly,
thick-tongued.
Along a straight stretch near Wabasca Road, they were
startled by a radiant light. Someone in dazzling white stood in the
middle of the road, his arms spread wide, commanding the truck
to stop. “What’s that light?” Albert shrieked as he ground the
speeding truck to a neck-wrenching halt.
Margaret’s heart beat wildly; the boys sobbed hysterically.
Albert lurched out of the truck and staggered toward the light.
“What are you doing there?” he demanded.
Margaret couldn’t hear his conversation with the glowing
being. Suddenly Albert turned and tottered back to the truck. “He
said we have to go to Wabasca,” he explained, “so I guess we’ll
go.” He thrust the truck into gear and took off.

Margaret could do nothing but hope. A little farther down
the road a man stopped them near a bridge. “There’s a Gospel
meeting in Wabasca,” he told Albert. “You should go.”
Albert never liked to hear about the Gospel, but he
obediently drove into town and found the meeting tent. The
speaker was talking about a Man called Jesus, God’s Son, Who, he
said, had come to earth and taken on human form. He had done
that so He could take the sin of human beings upon Himself and
die as a sacrifice to pay for it. The speaker said that Jesus had been
buried but, since He was God, He arose from the grave.
After the speaker finished, two men prayed for Albert. He
believed what he had heard about Jesus and repented of his sin.
Margaret also accepted Jesus as her Savior.
From then on Margaret loved to tell her family and other
tribal members about Jesus; Albert also faithfully lived for Him.
He held tent meetings and preached to his people—the Dene, the
Beaver, and the Leanord Alook Tribes.
God’s amazing miracle filled Albert and his mother with
deep gratitude and awe.
13
Beyond Bitterness
If the police didn’t find Ray Prince’s red Ford pickup, he’d have
no way to get out to the bush to check his trap line. That truck
was essential to his livelihood, and it had just been stolen.
“What am I to do?” he said. “I need it and everything in it.”
Ray, a Carrier Native, was an elder in the Native Bible
Fellowship in Prince George, British Columbia, Canada. For him,
prayer was as natural as breathing; he would pray and leave the
rest to God. God knew where his truck was.
Several days later the police in Whitehorse, Yukon
Territory, called. “Mr. Prince, we’ve recovered your truck with
the winch and canopy intact. The suspect, Doug Brown, said that
you’re his uncle and that you died and left all this to him.”
Ray knew Doug. “Well, I’m not his uncle, and I didn’t
die,” he said.
“The truck’s in our station’s basement garage,” the officer
continued.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Ray said. Not eager to
cover the more than 600 miles by ground transportation in -65˚
Fahrenheit temperature, he flew to Whitehorse.
At the police station the officer took Ray to the heated
garage and helped him to fill the radiator with antifreeze. “If you
have any trouble before you reach the border, give me a call. I’ll
be glad to help.”
After the three-day ordeal, Ray arrived back in Prince
George, grateful for God’s protection and direction. He took
care of the simplest task first, going to the insurance company
for reimbursement of his expenses. The hardest part would be
forgiving Doug. That would definitely require God’s help.
Sometime later Ray had a pulmonary blood clot and was
admitted to the intensive care unit of the Prince George hospital.
During admission, he caught a glimpse of Doug, who was also
being admitted. “Lord, help me to forgive him,” he prayed.

While in intensive care Ray had plenty of time to think
and pray. “I have a lot of work to do for You, Lord. You can get
me out of here if that’s what You want.” Within four days he was
released.
Ray had not told his wife, Nellie, about seeing Doug at
the hospital. When the two of them were out for coffee one day,
he told her he wanted to check out something at the hospital. She
waited in the truck.
Ray walked to the main desk and asked if Doug Brown
were there.
“Yes, Room 246.”
In the hall Ray met the pastor of the First Baptist Church.
“Hey, Ray, you know that guy who stole your truck? He has only
24 hours to live.”
Praying, Ray headed to Doug’s room. “Lord, You forgave
all my sin; I choose to forgive this man. Bring him to salvation.”
As Ray entered the room, Doug’s eyes widened. Ray
walked to his bedside. “Doug,” he said quietly, placing his hand
on Doug’s shoulder, “I forgive you for everything. I love my God
and He’s forgiven me for all the sinful things I’ve done. You need
to know His forgiveness too.”
Doug nodded thoughtfully as Ray continued. “You can
be forgiven because of what Jesus, God’s Son, did for you on the
cross. He died to pay the penalty for all your sin. He said, ‘I am
the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father but
through Me.’ Doug, believing in Jesus is the only way your sin can
be forgiven.”
At Ray’s next visit, Doug was comatose. “What’s his
chance of recovery?” Ray asked the nurse.
“None. We’ve removed all of his life support. He could go
any minute.”
Ray returned a third time, surprised to find Doug not only
still there, but awake. His left side was paralyzed, and he asked
Ray to pray for him.
After reading Scripture and praying, Ray said, “Doug, you
may not have much time, but you can invite Christ into your life
right now.” Doug nodded affirmatively, tears trickling down his
face. Ray felt certain that he had received Christ into his life.
Although Doug had not been a part of the Native Bible
Fellowship, people there knew him. Some were bitter about the
way he had treated Ray and Nellie, but most prayed for him. Ray
believed that the Lord was testing them, and he determined not to
give up.
At Ray’s next visit he encouraged, “Doug, God is the best
doctor. If He wants you to survive, you will.”
The next day Ray found Doug sitting up. “What did you
do to him?” the astonished nurse asked.
“All I did was pray for him. God’s responsible for this
miracle,” Ray assured her.
Soon afterward Doug was released from the hospital in
a wheelchair. He began attending Native Bible Fellowship and
publicly asked the congregation to forgive him.
“Doug, we love you and forgive you,” Ray responded.
Considering God’s love and forgiveness, that was the only
appropriate response.

14
Beyond the Fear of Death
Hey, kids, let’s pray before you go to school,” Mrs.
Hartnagel said, “right now before we leave the breakfast
table.”
The children turned questioningly toward their mother. “We got
an e-mail from the Warnes this morning,” she explained. Brian
and Danyel Warne had been their neighbors before becoming
missionaries in the state of Sinaloa, Mexico. “A Mayo woman
wants Brian to go to the village where her 72-year-old father, José
Euserio, and her grandparents live. Her father is very sick and
needs to know about Jesus before he dies. They asked us to pray
for him and his family. Let’s do that now.”
Mrs. Hartnagel and the children bowed their heads and
asked God to help Brian and to bring José to the Savior before he
died.
Meanwhile, in the village of Jahuara, Brian went to see
Fausto, a Mayo Christian confined to a wheelchair. “Fausto, would
you go with me tomorrow to visit Hermana (Sister) Conchita’s
father in Mochicahui? He’s very sick. She visited him yesterday
hoping he would trust Jesus, but he didn’t. She wants me to go
with her and her husband to talk with him again. Could you come
and translate into Mayo for me?”
Fausto agreed. Early the next morning Brian lifted him
onto the front seat of the van and loaded his wheelchair into the
cargo compartment. Conchita and her husband, José, climbed into
the back seat. As they began the journey, Brian prayed that the
Lord would bring José Euserio to Himself.
For ninety minutes the four of them wound their way
over twenty-five miles of rugged road. Reaching the wide river
lined with towering cottonwoods, Brian shifted into low gear
and glanced at his passengers. “I’ve heard that rocks have been
excavated from this river and that it’s fifteen feet deep in some
places. Where’s the best place to cross?”
José knew the river well. He showed Brian where to cross,
and they emerged safely on the other side. They began the climb
over deep sandy soil to Mochicahui, dust swirling behind them.
Haze hung over the distant mountain range. A few desert flowers
bloomed among the cacti and scrub brush, and an occasional
jackrabbit bounded across the dry terrain. Buzzards circled lazily
overhead; a covey of quail scurried into hiding. Brian stopped
long enough to let a young shepherd and his goats cross the road.
About thirty minutes beyond the river, the travelers arrived
in Mochicahui with its large, run-down adobe buildings. Mayo
children played beside the road. At the edge of town Conchita
pointed. “There’s the road to my father’s house.”
Brian slowed and turned, driving past tall mango and
papaya trees. He parked in front of José Euserio’s house and
retrieved Fausto’s wheelchair.
Hot, stale air greeted the visitors as they entered the oneroom
home. José had been a good-sized, active man; his nowshriveled
body lay on a burlap cot, flies swarming around him.
Manuel, his 94-year-old father, and Petra, his 89-year-old mother,
sat in the corner. Conchita introduced Fausto and Brian to the
three of them.
“¡Buenos días!” Brian greeted, shaking hands with each.
The visitors seated themselves and began conversing with José.
They spoke of his illness, his childhood, his family, and his years
as a farmer. Fausto translated Brian’s Spanish into the local Mayo
dialect and José’s Mayo into Spanish. Fausto had a lot in common
with José, having lived in this area as a child.
After a time, Brian asked, “José, may we share with you
some things from God’s Word?”
With José’s consent, Brian continued. “José, one day the
body of every one of us will wear out, just as yours is doing. Some
day each one of us will die physically. We were dead spiritually
when we were born, but there’s hope for each of us. God’s Word
promises that when we repent of our sins and believe in Jesus
Christ, we’re made alive spiritually. That allows us to live a
meaningful life right now, and when our physical body does die,
we’ll receive a new body and live forever with Christ in heaven.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” José answered. “I was
brought up in the Mayo ways. I’ve practiced our religious
traditions and some of the Catholic ways for years, but no matter
what I do or how much I try, I don’t have peace.”
“Peace comes only through Jesus Christ,” Brian explained.
“He is our peace. Sin keeps us from having peace with God,
but Jesus took the punishment for our sin by dying on the cross.
Because of that, we can be forgiven.”
José and his elderly parents listened intently. “There’s
nothing any of us can do to get rid of our sin,” Brian continued.
“Being baptized or taking communion or giving money to the
church—none of that can take away our sin and make us right with
God. Trusting Jesus is the only way.”
“I know I’m a sinner,” José asserted. “I’ve gone to church
and prayed to the saints and paid money, but none of that has done
any good. I know I’m still a sinner.”
“José, the Bible says, ‘For it is by grace you have been
saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift
of God—not by works, so that no one can boast.’ When someone
gives you a gift, do you pay for it?”
“No,” José responded, “the person who gives the gift pays
for it.”
“That’s right. And that’s what Jesus did. He paid for our
sin with His blood. Salvation from sin is a free gift for anyone
who places trust in Him.”
José understood. “I want to get rid of my sin and have the
kind of peace God gives. I want to follow Jesus.”
“That’s great, José! Tell God what you just told us,” Brian
urged.
Manuel and Petra slipped out as José began to pray. When
he finished, his eyes sparkled and a happy smile broke over his
face. “Now I’m not afraid to die!” he exclaimed.
In a few minutes Manuel and Petra shuffled back into the
house and began talking with Fausto. Fausto turned to Brian.
“They want to be sure they understand correctly about Jesus’ doing
everything that’s necessary for them to be forgiven. They said
their hearts have ached for a long time because of their sin, but
they didn’t know what to do about it. Now they understand and
believe that Jesus died for their sin. They want God’s forgiveness
and peace.”
Fausto and Brian encouraged the elderly couple to tell God
what was on their hearts. “I’ve never felt such peace in my 94
years!” Manuel exclaimed after he had prayed. “Jesus died and
rose again for me, and I didn’t even know it until now. I thought
He died every year on Good Friday and rose again every year on
Easter Sunday. Now I know that He died only once and arose
from the grave and will live forever. Some day He’ll give me a
resurrected body.”
Later at the Hartnagel home, the children saw their mother
checking the e-mail. “Mom, did Brian send us an e-mail yet?”
“Yes, and guess what. José trusted Christ as his Savior! So
did his father and mother!”
The children were elated; God had answered their prayers.
Teary-eyed, Mrs. Hartnagel rejoiced in her children’s exuberance.
Through answering their prayers, God was teaching them to trust
in His faithfulness.

15
Beyond Human Plans
The Sierra Madre Mountains shimmered in the early
morning sunlight. Missionary pilot Dave Wolf set UIM
International’s Cessna 206 down on the bumpy Yecora
runway. Several missionaries, mostly Mexican, waited nearby.
He would fly them to remote villages along Northwest Mexico’s
Sonora/Chihuahua border for several days of ministry.
Dave sauntered over to fellow UIM missionary Ron
Hamilton and his Mexican evangelist coworker, Job. “What’s the
plan?” Ron asked.
“I=ll take the guys going to Mesa Colorado and Saucillo
first,” Dave answered. “Then I’ll come back and take you two to
Palmarito.”
Dave took off with several Mexican evangelists aboard.
Ron and Job surveyed the emerald green mountains surrounding
them. “Beautiful place to wait,” Ron remarked. “Fresh air, mild
breeze, beautiful scenery—it’s invigorating.” He glanced at his
watch. “Dave should be back in a half hour or so. I wonder what
the Lord has in mind for the people of Palmarito this week.”
The gentle breeze suddenly became a howling wind.
Black, angry clouds tumbled in over the mountains. The men
scurried to their pickup as rain began to pour. Sudden storms
in this region were not unusual. Ron looked at Job knowingly.
“There’s no way Dave can land in this. Even if the weather clears
later today, he can’t possibly get us to Palmarito and back home
before dark. We may as well go visit people in Nuri and come
back tomorrow.”
“It’s almost noon,” Job said. “Let’s go eat at that little
restaurant down the road.”
Two lumber trucks and a bus were parked in front of the
restaurant. “It’ll take forever to get served here,” Ron said. “Let’s
try the café farther down the mountain. Maybe the Lord has
someone there He wants us to witness to.”
The café’s only customers were two men, one visibly
distraught. “Is something wrong?” Ron asked.
“Si, Señor. I’m in a hurry. I ran out of gas and don’t know
what to do.”
“We can give you a couple of gallons,” Ron offered. The
three of them walked out to Ron’s pickup. Ron reached for his
gas can and began siphoning. “Has anyone ever told you the good
news about Jesus Christ, God’s Son?” he asked.
The man shook his head no. “We’re all born sinners,” Ron
explained. “God says that the penalty for sin is death, in other
words, eternal separation from Him. But because He loved us so
much, He sent His sinless Son, Jesus, from Heaven to die for our
sin. Jesus paid the penalty we should have paid. If we trust in
Him, He forgives us, and we’ll spend eternity with Him.”
Ron pulled the hose from the tank. “There, that should get
you to a gas station.”
“¡Muchas gracias, Señor!” He poured the gas into his tank,
returned the can, and climbed into his pickup.
“Here, this is God’s Word,” Job said, handing him a New
Testament. “It tells how to know God.” The man thanked him
politely and drove off.
“Man, am I hungry!” Ron said. “Let’s go eat!” Back
inside, he asked the other customer if he and Job could join him at
his table.
“Sure, I’m just waiting for a ride in a lumber truck.”
The two men ordered asada, frijoles, and tortillas and then
struck up a conversation with their tablemate. Just as they finished
telling him about Jesus, the lumber truck rumbled in, and the driver
strolled in for a beer.
“I’m sorry; we don’t sell alcoholic beverages,” the tall,
weathered owner informed him.
The unhappy driver and his rider turned to leave, but not
before Ron and Job handed each of them a New Testament and a
couple of tracts. “Have a safe journey,” they called.
Ron turned to the owner. “So, why don’t you sell liquor?
Religious convictions?”
“No. This road’s dangerous, and I don’t want to be

esponsible if someone gets killed.”
“True. A lot of people do die from drinking,” Ron said, and
then he asked, “Sir, if you died, do you know where you’d go?”
The owner shook his head. “No, I don’t.”
“You can know,” Ron assured him. “Would you like to?”
“Sure,” the café owner responded and called his wife over
to the table.
“I’m Ruben, and this is my wife, Ubelina,” he said as they
sat down.
Ron took out his New Testament and explained the Gospel
simply and clearly. The couple seemed very interested and asked
several questions. Finally Ron asked, “Do you believe that Jesus
was God in human form? That He came to earth to die for your sin
and that He was buried and rose again?”
“¡Si, Si, Señor!” the couple nodded eagerly. “That’s great
news! We’ve never heard it before.”
“If you believe that, your sin is forgiven,” Ron said.
The four of them conversed until Job and Ron finished
eating and headed out the door. “What superb management
skills the Holy Spirit has!” Ron said. Neither a storm nor an
overcrowded restaurant could thwart God’s plans. He had used
both to direct their steps for His glory. His plan and timing were
perfect.
16
Beyond an Easy Life
Suicide had left eight-year-old Ruth Douglas and her seven
sisters and four brothers fatherless. Their father was the last
Cherokee chief to inherit the position from ancestors.
Life was challenging for the children and their Swedish mother.
Ruth’s mother frequently found fault with the children and treated
them unkindly, perhaps because of the heavy responsibilities she
carried alone.
Ruth, aka Princess Littlefeather, found the loss of her father
troublesome, but the departure of her brother Pete for military
service was even more difficult. Pete was so different from other
people: he didn’t smoke or drink, he was kind to the neighbors,
and he took her to movies. She often wondered where he was
and what he was doing and wished he were home. Whenever he
did come for a visit, she loved hearing him whistle tunes he had
learned in the service. “Living for Jesus” was her favorite.
During Ruth’s senior year of high school, the family’s
Christian neighbor, Mrs. Bowen, invited Ruth to church to hear
Stuart Hamblen, a former actor and singing cowboy. After
becoming a Christian at a Billy Graham meeting, Stuart had left
his acting career and began writing Christian music and traveling
around the country singing and speaking for Jesus.
Ruth enjoyed Mr. Hamblen’s singing, but the things he
said were totally unfamiliar to her. He said that everyone had
sinned and should die for those sins. He also said that God loved
everyone so much that He sent Jesus, God in human form, to die
and take the punishment for their sin. Anyone who believed in
Him would be forgiven.
Ruth had heard about Jesus the few times that her mother
had taken her and her younger siblings to Easter and Christmas
services, but she had never heard that He had died for her sin. That
night after the service someone asked if she knew Jesus. “Uh .
. . uh, yes,” she replied, knowing that was a lie. She didn’t even

know what “knowing Jesus” meant.
For days Ruth thought about Jesus. If He really did die for
my sin, I should trust Him, but if I do, I might have to give up some
things I like to do.
One day her mother answered the telephone, and Ruth
could tell that something bad had happened. “That was an Air
Force officer,” her mother said as she hung up. “Pete died in an
airplane explosion.”
Pete died? Where is he? What happens when someone
dies? How can I live without him? Ruth agonized. She felt so
empty and alone.
Sometime later Mrs. Bowen invited Ruth to church again,
this time to hear evangelist Merv Rosell and the Claus Family
Singers. She loved hearing the Native American family sing and
was surprised to hear Mr. Rosell read from the same Book and say
the same things that Mr. Hamblen had.
The second night Mr. Claus, the Native American, spoke.
He also used the same Book and said nearly the same thing. It
must be true, Ruth thought.
“If you were to die tonight, where would you spend
eternity?” Mr. Claus asked. Ruth knew she deserved hell, but
she now believed that Jesus had paid for her sin by His death on
the cross and trusted Him to forgive her. Suddenly she felt clean
inside and full of peace and joy. She no longer felt empty and
lonely. Jesus was her Friend.
At once Ruth began telling others about Jesus. Her mother
didn’t want to hear it and told her she was too young to think
seriously about religion; she should wait until she was older.
How can I wait? Ruth thought. This is the best news
anyone could ever hear. She told family members, nursing homes
residents, people on the streets, and anyone else she met that Jesus
was the only One who could forgive sin. Her joy was boundless
when her younger sister and brother trusted Him.
Finally, in frustration, Ruth’s mother warned, “Ruth, if
you don’t stop telling everyone about that man, I’ll take you to the
Justice of the Peace and have you locked up.”
Ruth could not stop; people needed to know about Jesus.
Furious, her mother took her to the Justice of the Peace and
demanded that he do something.
“Why, ma’am? What has she done?”
“She’s disturbing the peace!”
“How?”
“She tells everyone she meets about this man called Jesus.”
“Ma’am, that’s not a crime. I can’t do anything to her for
that.”
On the way home Ruth’s mother snapped, “I’ll see how
much this Jesus means to you. Don’t expect any food from my
table.”
Ruth had no doubt that her mother meant what she said.
When she told Mrs. Bowen, Mrs. Bowen said, “Don’t worry, Ruth.
If your mother doesn’t feed you, I will.”
As high school graduation neared, Ruth considered
becoming a missionary, but she knew she needed to know more
about the Bible. One day her mother asked what she planned
to do. “Mom, I think God wants me to go to Bible school and
become a missionary.”
“Young lady, if you go to Bible school, just forget you ever
had a mother!”
Ruth’s heart ached. She wanted to obey her mother, but
Jesus had died for her. She loved Him and wanted to serve Him.
She determined to obey Him even if her mother disowned her.
With a heavy heart mixed with great anticipation she packed her
clothes and boarded the bus for Lancaster School of the Bible in
Pennsylvania.
Learning God’s Word and how to live a Christian life
was pure joy, and Ruth loved being with other Christians. At
Christmastime she took the bus home, eager to see her family.
When she knocked at the door, her mother opened it. “What are
you doing here?” she asked.
“I came to see you, Mom.”
“Well, I don’t want to see you!” her mother yelled and
slammed the door.
Heartbroken, Ruth plodded back to the bus station and
returned to Lancaster. She sat on her bed in the empty dormitory

wondering what to do when she heard someone walking down the
hall. She looked up to see one of her friends.
“Ruth,” her friend exclaimed, “I thought you went home!”
“I . . . I did, but Mom wouldn’t let me in.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m glad I forgot something and had to
come back for it. Come home with me. My family would love to
have you spend the holidays with us.” Gratefully, Ruth accepted.
Ruth continued to learn much and looked forward to
serving God as a missionary. The following year just before
Christmas her sister Hazel called to ask if she could spend
Christmas with her.
The time with Hazel was special. On Christmas Eve Ruth
asked Hazel if she would like to have the greatest Gift anyone
could ever have. Curious, Hazel asked what that was.
“Jesus and eternal life,” Ruth replied, quoting a Scripture
verse that Hazel had heard before.
After explaining what it meant, Ruth asked, “Do you
believe that you’re a sinner?”
“Of course,” Hazel nodded, her eyes downcast.
“Everyone is,” Ruth affirmed. “The Bible says that ‘. . . all
have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.’ Would you like to
trust Christ to forgive your sin?”
Hazel’s heart was receptive. She knelt on the kitchen floor
with Ruth and prayed to receive the greatest Gift ever. Ruth had a
new sister in Christ!
During Ruth’s senior year a group of Christian ladies
invited her to speak at one of their meetings. One thing she shared
was her burden for her mother’s spiritual welfare.
“Where does your mother live?” one lady asked. “I’d like
to go tell her about Jesus.”
Ruth gave the lady the information and prayed that she
would actually visit her mother.
Two weeks before graduation, Hazel called. “Ruth, Mom
is seriously ill and wants to see you.”
Hurriedly, Ruth arranged a trip home. As she walked into
her mother’s bedroom, her mother said, “Oh, Ruth, a lady from
Lebanon County, Pennsylvania, came to visit me and told me about
salvation in Jesus. I’ve trusted Him and He’s forgiven me. I’m so
very sorry for how I’ve treated you. Will you forgive me?”
“Of course, Mom! He’s forgiven me, too.”
A short time later Ruth’s mother died, but Ruth rejoiced
in the knowledge that she was with Jesus. Her prayers had been
answered.
In 1958 after graduation, Ruth moved to Arizona under
United Indian Missions (UIM), eager to tell Native Americans in
the Southwest about Jesus. She served among the Hualapais for a
while and then among the Havasupai people in the bottom of the
Grand Canyon. Later she joined a missionary couple developing a
church on the Navajo Reservation.
For years Ruth taught women, children, and youth about
Jesus through Bible studies and Bible clubs. She helped at Broken
Arrow Bible Ranch, UIM’s New Mexico camping facility for
Native people. With emergency medical training, she served as
camp nurse. During non-camping seasons she and coworkers
taught Bible classes at a Native American boarding school, visited
Native patients at Gallup Indian Medical Center, and taught Bible
studies at the home of a Zuni lady.
“The most important thing in the world is to know Jesus
Christ as Savior,” Ruth declared. “Living for Him isn’t always
easy, but it is worth the cost.”

17
Beyond a Father’s Warning
Helen Yazzie’s parents looked questioningly at the doctor.
“Your daughter has polio,” he said. “She needs to go to
the Shriner’s Children’s Hospital in Utah for surgery on
her hip, knee, and ankle.”
The days ahead developed into months of hospitalization
for this little eight-year-old Navajo girl. Following surgery, she
was placed in a waist-to-toe cast. Months later she was transferred
to the Indian Health Service Hospital in Winslow, Arizona.
One day Helen’s nurse came to her room and told her that
two missionaries had come to visit patients.
“Don’t bring them in here,” Helen grumbled. “My dad
warned me about missionaries. I don’t want to hear about the
White Man’s religion.”
It wasn’t that Helen had no interest in spiritual things. She
often wondered where human beings and other things like the
sun, the moon, the stars, and the animals came from. She had
asked such questions of Navajo hand-shakers and medicine men
and women. They had told her that the coyote helped to create
people and that people had come out of Mother Earth, but they
always added, “You’re too young to hear about such things.” That
only increased her curiosity. Could something bigger and more
powerful than a coyote have made everything?
Some weeks later Helen heard someone singing in Navajo.
“Who’s singing?” she asked the nurse.
“A missionary lady.”
“Bring her here,” Helen ordered.
Soon a white lady appeared at Helen’s door. “Hi, I’m Irene
Eskelson. You wanted me to come?”
“Yes,” Helen replied. “Would you sing that Navajo song
for me? I’ve never heard it before.”
“I’d be happy to,” Miss Eskelson said and began singing
in Navajo: “Amazing grace! how sweet the sound—That saved a
wretch like me! I once was lost but now am found, Was blind but
now I see.”
Long after Miss Eskelson left, Helen wondered what that
song meant.
The day the doctor removed Helen’s cast and examined her
hip, knee, and ankle, he shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry, Helen,
but you’ll probably never walk again. The surgeries didn’t do what
they were supposed to. You’ll likely have to wear braces or use a
wheelchair the rest of your life.”
Helen was crushed. What could she do? Navajo
ceremonies offered no help. Those her parents had planned for her
in the past had produced no positive benefits.
When Miss Eskelson came again, she brought Ruth Jack,
another missionary. “Would you sing that Navajo song for me
again?” Helen asked.
“We’d love to,” Miss Eskelson replied.
Afterward, Miss Eskelson asked Helen if she’d like to learn
that song. Helen nodded, so the two ladies sang it over and over
until Helen could sing it with them. “What does it mean?” she
asked.
“It means that God loved us so much that He did something
very special for us, something we didn’t deserve,” Miss Eskelson
explained. “He’s not like we are. He’s perfect; He’s never done
anything wrong. All of us think and do and say wrong things. We
disobey God, and that’s called ‘sin.’ God said that sin has to be
paid for by death. We deserve to die because of our sin, but He
loved us so much that He didn’t want us to die. Instead, He sent
Jesus, His Son, from heaven to earth to die in our place. Jesus died
a horrible death on a cross, but He came to life again. Everyone
who believes that He is God and that He died for them is forgiven.”
Nine-year-old Helen knew she was a sinner and needed
to be forgiven. She thought a lot about that for two whole weeks
until the missionaries came again.
During the next visit Miss Eskelson said, “Listen, Helen.
Here is what God’s Word says.” She opened her Bible to I
Corinthians 15:3-4. “. . . Christ died for our sins according to the
Scriptures, that he was buried, and that he was raised the third day

according to the Scriptures.” Then she flipped back a few pages.
“And here in John 3:16 it says: ‘For God so loved the world that
he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall
not perish but have eternal life.’ Helen, if you believe that Jesus
Christ died for your sin, He’ll be your Savior and forgive you.”
Helen believed and immediately knew that God had
forgiven her. She had never experienced such joy before. After
the ladies left, she continued to mull over what had happened.
Now I have a God I can talk to about my problems, she thought.
He’ll help me. I don’t care what the doctor says; I will walk again.
I’m the oldest child in our family, and I have to help out. Having
no feeling in my legs won’t stop me. I’ll prove the doctor wrong.
I’ll do whatever it takes to walk again.
When Helen’s parents came to visit her, she told them she
had become a Christian, that Jesus had died to pay for her sin. She
was afraid that her dad, a dancer in Navajo Yei Bi Chei ceremonies
that combine religious and medical observances, might be angry,
but neither he nor her mother seemed upset.
Helen noticed that her mother wasn’t wearing any of her
prized Navajo jewelry. “Mom, where’s your jewelry?”
“I pawned it to get money for your ceremonies.”
“Mom, I’m a Christian now. Please don’t have any more
ceremonies for me.”
At age ten Helen was transferred to the Gallup Indian
Medical Center in New Mexico for physical therapy. “God,” she
prayed, “if I’m to be in a wheelchair all my life, please let me
know; if not, help me to try hard to walk.”
Helen could not read very well yet, so she asked her Native
roommate to read to her from the English Bible the missionaries
had given her. After reading one day, her roommate said, “Helen,
you shouldn’t be reading this book. It’s not our Indian religion.”
But Helen wanted to know what that Book said.
Most of the roommates Helen had did not know the God
the Bible spoke of, but she asked every one of them to read it to
her. Sometimes they talked about what they had read. When she
was finally able to read it on her own, she found John 3:16, the
verse that Miss Eskelson had read to her and read it over and over.
She loved that verse. To think that Jesus, who had no sin of His
own, loved her enough to take the punishment for her sin! She just
could not imagine that kind of love.
Every day a physical therapist worked with and encouraged
Helen. Faithfully she exercised and made steady progress. Six
months after arriving at the Gallup hospital, she walked out on
crutches, certain that God had performed a miracle.
Back with her family at Gray Mountain on the Navajo
Reservation, Helen wanted to attend the small Navajo church a
half mile from their home. Though a missionary offered to provide
transportation, Helen was determined to walk. Every week she
walked on crutches the thirty minutes up Highway 89 to the
church. One of her sisters carried her Bible for her, and that sister
also became a Christian. Before long her other sister and two
younger brothers accompanied them to church. Whenever it was
cold or dark, a missionary or someone else from the church gave
them a ride.
Helen loved being at church. She went twice on Sundays,
once in the middle of the week, and sometimes even to the
Thursday night youth group. She just couldn’t get enough of
God’s Word. She wanted to know it and memorize it and read it
to her family. She and her sister were growing in their love for
Christ and longed for their whole family to know and love Him.
She believed that the God who had helped her to walk was able to
bring her family to Christ.
All of Helen’s siblings eventually trusted Christ. They
often told their parents Bible stories and verses and other things
they had learned. At first their parents weren’t interested, but their
mom started attending church with them about a year after all the
siblings had become Christians. It wasn’t long before she accepted
God’s forgiveness. Their dad remained uninterested, but he didn’t
oppose their mother’s decision. The family and people at church
prayed for him.
As a maintenance man at two nearby trading posts, Helen’s
dad was sometimes paid with liquor. He drank heavily and
bootlegged the rest. In order to have money for food, Helen and
her mom got up at four o’clock most mornings to weave rugs to

sell. Secretly at first but later in their dad’s presence, the family
prayed that the bar would burn down.
One summer evening just after Helen’s dad returned
from work and was washing up for supper, the family heard a
commotion in the distance. Racing to the top of the hill, they
looked down and saw the bar adjacent to the trading post burning.
Police cars and fire trucks filled the parking lot. People were
running here and there, hollering to each other.
Soon Helen’s dad began attending church occasionally with
the family. At the special Christmas service at Hidden Springs
Bible Church he heard the story of Jesus and believed in Him. He
never drank another drop of liquor and never attended another
traditional Navajo ceremony. Each time still-curious Helen
asked about traditional Navajo ways, he’d say, “Helen, you have
something better than that now. Don’t even ask about it.”
After high school Helen attended business school in Denver
and then paid off her school debt by working at the Gray Mountain
Trading Post. She then served as secretary and receptionist for
Flagstaff Mission to the Navajos in Flagstaff, Arizona, for eighteen
years. She also interpreted for English-speaking missionaries and
helped with vacation Bible schools, evangelistic meetings, and
Christmas meetings on the reservation. After learning how to teach
at Child Evangelism Fellowship camps, she sometimes taught
Bible classes for children and teens. She helped to train Navajo
ladies to be Sunday school teachers and assisted missionaries
with a Native student ministry at Northern Arizona University.
Sometimes she was asked to be the Navajo speaker at ladies’
retreats.
After her mother’s death, Helen moved home with her
father, intending to return to Flagstaff Mission to the Navajos when
her dad no longer needed her. God had another plan. “Helen,
we need a receptionist and a registrar at IBC,” Mike Calvin, the
Navajo business administrator at Flagstaff’s Indian Bible College,
said one day. “Why don’t you come and help us? You’d have to
raise your own support like the rest of the staff.”
“I have only two supporters and I don’t receive very
much,” Helen replied. Nevertheless, the Lord led her to fill the
need and provided for her. Later she became the school’s alumni
director until she retired, having served the Lord at IBC for twentythree
years.
God’s plan for Helen’s life brought Him glory. At the
mission, at the Bible college, and in her personal life she focused
on the spiritual welfare of her people, sharing the Gospel with
them at every opportunity. She herself had experienced God’s
“amazing grace.” She knew from personal experience the joyful
truth that “. . . God so loved the world that He gave His one and
only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have
eternal life.” And she rejoiced in the reality of Ephesians 2:4-5: “.
. . because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made
us alive with Christ . . . it is by grace you have been saved.” That
wonderful news was too good to keep to herself. She wanted her
people to know these joyous, eternal realities.
From a human perspective, the odds for Helen’s life were
not good, but God . . . !

18
Beyond Shame
Tara’s lips quivered; her eyes flooded with tears.
“What’s wrong?” Lorraine asked the Carrier Native with
whom she was having a Bible study.
“I’m . . . I’m . . . so ashamed,” Tara answered, her
shoulders heaving.
“What happened?” Lorraine asked.
“I lost my temper with my sister Dana and said some awful
things to her. I even told her to get out of my house. I can still see
her hunched shoulders and the hurt in her eyes as she walked out
the door. I’m so sorry for how I acted. I can’t stop thinking about
it. Dana is a new Christian, but I’ve been a Christian for a long
time. I shouldn’t have become angry, and I should have forgiven
her immediately.”
As UIM International missionaries in British Columbia,
Canada, Lorraine and Marvin Anderson were seeking to help
Carriers trust Christ and grow in Him. Lorraine laid her hand on
Tara’s shoulder. “Tara, asking for forgiveness is not easy, but it’s
God=s way.” She opened her Bible to Matthew 6:14-15 and read,
“If you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly
Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their
sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.”
“I know,” Tara replied, dabbing at her eyes with the sleeve
of her blouse. “I’ll go talk with Dana right now.” Silently Lorraine
committed her to the Lord as she hurried out the door.
If only I had followed God’s way, Tara thought. What if He
treated me like I’ve treated Dana? He loves me and has forgiven
me; how could I have treated her like that?
When she arrived at Dana’s home, a family member told
her that Dana had been very upset about something and had taken a
bus to Smithers.
“Do you have a phone number for her?”
“Yes, but every time we try it, we get a recording saying the
phone’s been disconnected.”
Tara wrote down the number and plodded home. I have to
talk with Dana, she thought. I have to ask forgiveness. I know I’ve
hurt her, and I’ve hurt God, too.
At home, she dialed the number. Dana answered on the
second ring! “Dana,” Tara cried, “your family said this number
didn’t work, but I just had to talk with you, so I dialed anyway.”
Dana did not respond. Tara continued, “I’ve been
miserable ever since I sent you out of my house. I’m so sorry for
what I said and did.”
“It really hurt,” Dana admitted.
“I know,” Tara replied regretfully. “That’s not the way a
Christian should talk and act. God tells us to love others. He has
shown me how wrong I was. Will you forgive me?”
Both of them were in tears. “I forgive you.” Dana
answered. “I say and do things I shouldn’t, too.”
When their conversation was finished, Tara hurried back to
Lorraine. “Dana went to Smithers. Her family gave me a phone
number, but they said the phone was disconnected. I had to talk
with Dana, so I tried anyway, and she answered! I really hurt her,
but she’s forgiven me.”
Awed by God’s miraculous intervention, the two women
thanked Him together, and Tara left with a light heart.
Immediately Lorraine called her daughter-in-law in
Smithers. “Sherrie, guess what just happened!” Joyfully she
related the story.
“But Mom,” Sherrie exclaimed, “Dana’s relatives
are friends of ours, and I’ve tried to call them several times
today. Every time I’ve gotten a recording saying the phone was
disconnected.”
“It may have been, Sherrie, but God connected it long
enough for Tara to obey.”

19
Beyond Hopelessness
United Indian Missions (UIM) missionary Marvin Anderson
and his associate, Dr. John Viss, were discouraged. They
had seen virtually no progress toward the mission’s goal of
planting a Carrier-led church that supported and reproduced itself.
“A First Nations church with First Nations leaders here in British
Columbia (B.C.) is only a slim possibility,” Marvin declared, and
Dr. Viss agreed.
Sometime later, in 1976, Marvin became UIM’s B.C.
field director. “I don’t think there will be indigenous churches
here for at least another 20 to 25 years,” he wrote. He and other
missionaries had formed friendships with Native people and
preached and taught biblical truth, but few had responded to the
Gospel. Past treatment by European settlers and the Canadian
government, plus a strong animistic belief system, contributed
to people’s lack of response to the message brought by white
outsiders.
In the early 1980s, however, Marvin began to see small
sparks of hope. With consistent Bible teaching and positive
interactions with missionaries who treated the Carriers with love,
more of them were trusting in Christ as Savior than before. Some
were even becoming leaders within the church.
Marvin was overjoyed when he learned that three Native
men were to preach at a Bible conference with more than a
hundred First Nations people in attendance. One of those men
was Francis Dennis, who had heard the Gospel from Dr. Viss in
1966 and been discipled by him. Later he had helped a Wycliffe
missionary translate Scripture into the Carrier language and
faithfully immersed himself in God’s Word. According to Marvin,
Francis had become a “powerful prayer warrior,” a leader “with a
real handle on God’s Word.”
Another conference speaker was Ray Prince, one source
of Marvin’s previous discouragement. Exposed to the Word and
discipled by a missionary, he had been transformed by God into a
godly man focused on the Scriptures. Marvin described him as one
who spoke “powerfully . . . using Scripture for everything he said.”
The Holy Spirit was at work. God was honoring the
missionaries’ love for the people, their sharing of the Truth, and
persistence in prayer. He was not only bringing Carriers to Christ,
He was moving some into places of church leadership.
As increasing numbers of Carrier Christians began to
expound God’s Word to their own people, more Carriers entered
the Family of God. The process was slow, but Christ was building
His Church.

20
Beyond Idolatry
Buddha is the light of the world!” Those words, in Chinese
characters, were engraved on a shelf of the Wong family’s
floor-to-ceiling mahogany display case. That was what
Amy Wong had believed. An array of idols and paper money filled
the shelves, for Buddhists believed that burning money guaranteed
adequate finances for deceased ancestors in the world to come.
Amy had worshiped her ancestors for years.
However, for some time now, Amy had been attending the
Chinese Baptist Church in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Pastor
Voon Min Liew always taught from the Bible, which he said was
God’s Word. He told about Jesus, God’s Son, coming to earth to
pay for everyone’s sin by dying on the cross. He said that those
who believed in Jesus had eternal life. She had come to believe in
Jesus and place her trust in Him alone. She no longer believed in
Buddha, and idols were no longer welcome. They could not give
her eternal life.
She had approached Pastor Liew and told him she wanted to
follow Jesus and asked if he would come to her home and help her
destroy her idols. “I want to invite some of the church members to
come, too,” she said.
Plans were made and Pastor Liew and fifteen church members
gathered at Amy’s home. Following a delectable Chinese meal,
the group listened carefully to Pastor Liew. “I’m reading from
Exodus 20:3-6,” he began. “You shall have no other gods before
me. You shall not make for yourselves an idol in the form of
anything in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the waters
below. You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for I, the
LORD your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the
sin of the fathers to the third and fourth generation of those who
hate me, but showing love to thousands who love me and keep my
commandments.”
Pastor Liew then read Leviticus 26:1: “Do not make idols or
set up an image or a sacred stone for yourselves, and do not place
a carved stone in your land to bow down before it. I am the LORD
your God.” Finally, he turned to I John 5:21: “Dear children, keep
yourselves from idols.”
God’s commands were clear. Stepping to the shelves, Amy
handed each of the dozen idols to men from the church. They
carried them to the driveway and smashed them to bits with a
sledge hammer. “Please dismantle the shelves and hack them to
pieces, too,” Amy requested.
Her face shone. A heavy burden was lifted. The group
encircled the shattered evidence of her past spiritual bondage and
committed her and her family and their church to God for His
protection. They were confident that “the one who is in you is
greater than the one who is in the world” (I John 4:4).
Amy’s courage in destroying her idols also brought joy and
encouragement to the church body. Some of those present silently
petitioned God to search their hearts for idols they may not have
recognized. No idol, in any form, was welcome.

21
Beyond Cultural Traditions
Sandra and Leon Friend longed for the Pueblo people on
the reservations near Albuquerque, New Mexico, to know
Christ, but tribal leadership prevented the Christian faith
from being taught publicly. “If only we could tell them about
Christ and His death, burial, and resurrection,” Leon lamented.
The Friends were missionaries with UIM International.
As chaplain at the Public Health Service hospital, Leon
visited patients from several tribal areas. One of them was Benina
Medina from the Zia Pueblo. He visited her three times each week
during her three- to four-week hospitalization. For the most part
her health was good, but a stroke had left her paralyzed on the left
side, making it necessary for her to use a wheelchair.
Benina’s part-Navajo husband, Rosendo, was usually
with her when Leon visited, and both of them listened closely
as he read from the Bible and explained the Gospel. Neither of
them questioned biblical truth concerning confession of sin and
repentance. They were well aware of their sinful state and knew
that they needed something to take care of their sin. Their Native
religions had not provided any peace with God.
Benina understood the truth about salvation more quickly
than Rosendo did and soon placed her trust in Christ as her Savior.
Rosendo’s Native teachings slowed his acceptance of the Gospel,
but the Holy Spirit brought him to faith in Christ before Benina left
the hospital.
Upon Benina’s release, she and Rosendo asked Leon if
he would come to their home and teach them more about being a
Christian. Rosendo had heard a little bit about Jesus previously,
but not everything he had heard was biblical. Both of them were
hungry to know the truth about the God who loved them enough
to send Jesus to take the punishment for their sin. They loved
learning God’s Word and frequently thanked the Friends for
introducing them to Christ and teaching them about Him.
Since private Bible studies were permitted in the Zia
Pueblo, Leon and Sandra consented to having Bible studies in the
Medinas’ home. The couple’s eagerness for these studies was in no
way lessened by the ridicule they endured from relatives for having
become Christians.
The kitchen in the Medinas’ humble adobe home had a
gas cook stove, a sink with running water, and a table with three
or four chairs. Two straight-back chairs and a twin-bed sofa sat
on the linoleum-covered dirt floor of the living room. On Bible
study days Rosendo tied the bottom of the thin window curtain in
a knot to let in more light. His and Benina’s warm welcome far
outweighed any material deficiencies.
For ten years or more the four of them met weekly for a
two-hour to three-hour Bible study. Each week Leon assigned
a specific section of a Bible lesson book, and during the week
the Medinas read the Bible portions and answered the questions.
At subsequent sessions, Rosendo read the questions and his and
Benina’s answers. Leon clarified questions, expounded on answers
as necessary, and led a discussion.
The sessions frequently included singing, since the
Medinas loved the hymns and choruses the Friends taught them.
The day the Friends took Benina to see a chiropractor for persistent
headaches, the four of them sang all the way to Albuquerque.
One session was about the sin of stealing. While Rosendo
was reading the questions and answers, he stopped abruptly and
turned to Leon. “You know, I almost made a sin this morning.
Our son, Orlando, went to feed the horse, and since our hay was
all gone, he asked me what he should feed him. Without thinking,
I said, ‘Oh, just take a bale off that guy’s stack; he won’t miss
it.’ Benina was still in bed, but she heard me and hollered that I
shouldn’t do that. She said that stealing is sin. If it hadn’t been for
her, I would have made a sin.”
One day during Leon and Sandra’s visit, Benina became
teary-eyed. “What’s wrong?” Sandra asked.
“I prayed that God would heal me, but He hasn’t,” Benina
responded. She never questioned her salvation, but she did
struggle with the fact that God had not restored her paralyzed arm

and hand.
She bemoaned her lack of healing on yet another day.
Rosendo told Leon, “One of my Navajo relatives gave me a King
James Bible and said that if we prayed Psalm 39:10, Benina would
be healed. That verse says, ‘Remove thy stroke from me . . . .’ Is
that how we should pray?”
Hiding amusement, Leon explained that verse’s meaning in
simple terms.
During another session, Benina again complained about her
lack of total healing. “Benina,” Sandra asked, “would you rather
be healed and go back to worshiping idols and tending ceremonial
masks like you used to do or be in your wheelchair with freedom
to worship God as you do now?”
Benina replied without hesitation, “I’d rather be in my
chair with Jesus in my heart!” Although she couldn’t walk, she
did maintain some use of her leg; however, she never regained the
use of her arm and hand. Little by little she became thankful that
the stroke had relieved her of caring for ceremonial masks and
participating in festivals and dances related to the spirit world.
Arriving at the couple’s home one day, the Friends sensed
that something special was about to happen. Rosendo offered them
chairs, filled a pitcher with warm water, and poured it into a basin.
Benina rolled her wheelchair close to Leon’s chair. “Take off your
shoes and socks,” she requested.
Curious, Leon complied. Rosendo placed the basin by his
feet and Benina moved closer. “I . . . I am so grateful the Lord sent
you to give us His Word. I want to wash your feet.”
She bent over and with great solemnity washed and dried
Leon’s feet. “I don’t have any nice-smelling ointment,” she
explained, “so I will use what I have, in Jesus’ name.” She picked
up a container of Vaseline, rubbed a small amount on his feet, and
sat back in her wheelchair. It was an act of love and gratitude, a
holy moment.
The four of them sat quietly for a few minutes, and then
Leon urged, “Let’s sing!” Together they joined their voices in
hymns of praise and worship to the God and Savior who had made
their salvation possible.
22
Beyond a Grudge
Pastor Venancio and other indigenous pastors were enjoying
the biblical instruction of UIM International missionaries in
Oaxaca, Mexico. “These family life seminars have meant a
lot to me,” he told his fellow pastors. “Because of the things I’ve
learned, God is blessing my marriage. I’m so grateful. My life
before Christ was not pretty, and I lived in ways I’m ashamed of
now. I fathered a daughter out of wedlock but didn’t marry her
mother. I later married Beti.
“About a year ago Rosa, my thirteen-year-old daughter,
came to our door selling nanches [a tropical fruit]. She looks so
much like me that Beti wondered if we were related, and someone
told her that she was my daughter.
“Beti could not forgive me and threatened to leave. I
started practicing what I’ve learned in these family seminars. I
told her that that was part of my before-Christ life and that God
had forgiven me when I repented and received Him as my Savior.
I truly love Beti and reminded her of the commitment I had made
when we were married five years ago. I assured her that I have
been faithful to her ever since. All the while I prayed that the Holy
Spirit would work in her heart.
“About a month ago I dreamed that Beti and I and our
three girls were walking down to the river for a picnic. Rosa was
following us in the distance, looking as though she wanted to join
us. Then I dreamed that Beti told me to call Rosa and ask her to
join our family. I awoke and chuckled, knowing that would never
happen.
“I didn’t mention my dream to Beti, but three days later
she said that she was sorry for the way she’d been treating me and
asked for my forgiveness. Of course, I gladly forgave her. Then
she told me to ask Rosa to join our family. I could hardly believe
my ears!
“Today Rosa is a part of our family. She eats with us, helps
Beti to care for the younger children, and does our laundry. Now
that she has become a Christian, we have even more in common.
I thank God for these family seminars and that Beti realized that

a soul is worth more than a grudge. I’m so glad she forgave me!
Her forgiveness has freed me to love my congregation more and
has helped both of us to grow in Christ and to love each other and
our family more.”
23
Beyond Timidity
Paco’s passionate sharing of God’s offer of eternal life
through Jesus Christ had been vital to the formation of a new
body of Christ in Los Minerales, Jalisco, Mexico. For two
years prior to starting the church plant, he had commuted an hour
by bus each weekday to attend the seminary at Getsemani Baptist
Church in Guadalajara. He took the Center for Establishing and
Developing Churches (CESI) course as well, learning how to study
the Bible, teach, evangelize, preach, build cell groups, and look
for a church plant area. Some courses had focused on spiritual
character and spiritual warfare; others had dealt with church
leadership and biblical family relationships.
After completing the course in 2000, Paco had returned to
his poverty-stricken village of Los Minerales on the outskirts of
Guadalajara. He lived with his mother and had Bible studies in
her home with a couple of family members. He invited others, but
initially only one couple responded.
Since Paco had been an unassertive student, CESI
instructor and UIM International missionary Tim Woodring
reasoned that his ministry would never yield more than a tiny
house church. God had a different perspective. He knew Paco’s
strong faith, his deep love for the Lord Jesus, and his intense
longing for his people to know Christ.
As part of the outreach team of the Getsemani church
under the leadership of mission pastor Constantino Varas, Tim
and his wife, Linda, participated in mountain village ministries
in Jalisco and Nayarit. Occasionally the Varases and Woodrings
visited Paco to encourage and help him. Two years after he
began the Bible studies, the team assisted him with a week-long
vacation Bible club for twenty children and youth who packed
into his mother’s home. Sometimes the team held medical clinics
and showed Christian movies in the streets. They had Saturday
morning children’s clubs and a Christmas club. To build deeper

elationships with families, Paco also tutored children with
learning difficulties. Little by little, people came to Christ, and a
church body formed.
Initially, Paco worked full time as a printer and received
some financial help from the Getsemani church. Later he cut back
to part time to allow more hours for pastoral work.
Bible club attendance climbed to nearly a hundred. To
have sufficient space, the club moved to an empty lot across the
street. “Paco,” Tim said, “that lot has a ‘For Sale’ sign on it. Why
doesn’t the church buy it?”
“We’ve been praying about it for some time,” Paco replied.
“How much does it cost?”
“Thirty-five thousand.”
“Not a bad deal! Thirty-five thousand pesos is only about
$3500.”
“Not pesos, Tim . . . $35,000.”
Tim’s eyes widened. “If it were only $3500, I’m sure I
could get churches to help. I don’t know if they’ll come up with
$35,000. How much have you saved?”
“We’ve been saving for about five years and have about
3000 pesos.”
“That’s about $300 U.S. Do you think God will provide
$35,000?”
“I think so.”
“Man, that’s too much money.”
“How big is your God?” Paco asked.
Tim promised to let his supporters know about the situation
and ask them to pray. A friend in Virginia responded promptly
with a check for $5000. The treasurer of Park Meadows Baptist
Church in Lethbridge, Alberta, Canada, e-mailed to ask how big
the lot was and if it were in a good location. Tim assured him
that the 63’ x 123’ lot was in a great location. When the treasurer
learned that he and Linda were planning to be in Lethbridge the
following month, he asked that they bring some pictures.
That August Tim and Linda met with the Park Meadows
board members and showed them pictures of the Los Minerales
ministry. “Paco envisions a church with 1000 members
eventually,” Tim explained. “He wants to build facilities for a
church and a school and to develop adult Bible classes. Even
though the $35,000 lot they hope to buy seems rather small, by
building up instead of out, it would accommodate all buildings.”
That evening a board member called to say that the board
had agreed unanimously to support the project with their October
Thanksgiving offering. The next day Pastor Barry met with
Tim and reiterated the church’s 100% support. “We’d like for
you and Linda and Pastor Constantino and his wife to attend our
Thanksgiving banquet. We’ll take an offering then.”
Two months later the Woodrings and Varases flew to
Lethbridge for Canada’s Thanksgiving weekend. Both Tim and
Constantino spoke Sunday morning and at the evening banquet.
Toward the end of the evening when Pastor Barry stood,
all eyes were riveted on him. “The offering for the work in
Los Minerales totaled $52,000,” Pastor Barry announced. The
Woodrings’ and Varases’ eyes filled with tears as they bowed their
heads in gratitude.
When the believers in Los Minerales heard what had
happened, they jumped for joy and cried and hugged each other.
“Why would a church in Canada do that for us?” they asked.
“They’re your brothers and sisters in Christ,” Tim said.
“They want people here to know Christ as their Savior.”
By 2008 the church consisted of approximately fifty adults
and children. With standing room only in Paco’s mother’s cement
block house, they moved onto the 12’ x 13’ patio. A large blue tarp
offered some protection from summer rains, but not everyone fit
under it. Amazingly, neither rain nor knee-deep mud kept anyone
home, and the growing group spilled out into the street.
The gift from the Canadian church covered the land, title,
and construction costs. On Saturday afternoons Getsemani church
members helped with construction. Within ten months, three
Sunday school rooms were providing temporary space for church
services. The community watched with interest. Curiosity brought
some people to the services; others, drawn by the genuine love and
joy of the congregation, began to attend regularly. Everyone was
eager for the completion of the building. The believers prayed

earnestly that God would bring hundreds of drug and alcohol
addicts, prostitutes, and gang members to Christ and into their
fellowship.
In 2010 the Park Meadows youth group assisted with
vacation Bible club, which was attended by 180 children and
youth. The walls weren’t plastered or painted and the bathroom
plumbing wasn’t finished, but the roof was on and the building was
useable.
By the spring of 2011, the church held a joyous two-hour
worship and preaching service followed by Sunday school, after
which members scattered into the community to distribute tracts
and tell people about Christ. The day ended with a youth meeting.
The building soon became the site of a baptism, seven
weekly Bible studies, Pastor Paco’s tutoring sessions, twice-weekly
guitar lessons, and medical and dental clinics. The community not
only heard of God’s love, they saw it in action.
The church has not yet reached the prayed-for 1000
members, but it has a wonderful testimony in the area and is
growing. Its vision to reach the area with the Gospel remains
unchanged. Prayer times, special classes for both new and
mature believers, and Bible studies at church and in homes
give opportunities for spiritual growth. Weekly house-to-house
visitations, church conferences, monthly leaders’ meetings,
pastoral counseling sessions, and evangelistic activities also occur.
And for the benefit of the children, the church provides both a
summer and a winter camp.
The Holy Spirit is at work. Not only is God being honored,
He is honoring the mustard-seed faith of an “unassertive student”
by blessing with vigorous, mustard-seed growth.
24
Beyond Overwhelming Needs
Swings hung motionless in the sunshine, awaiting the arrival
of enthusiastic Native American children. The basketball
court and cabins were also silent. Broken Arrow Bible
Ranch’s (BABR) staff gathered around the fireplace in the lodge
to plan and pray for the 2000 camping season. They envisioned
the impending hustle and bustle of campers headed to the chapel,
archery, riflery, go-carts, and horseback rides. They could almost
hear laughter throughout the campground and screams from the
dunk tank.
“Hey, gang, this place will soon be buzzing. Are we
ready?” camp director Steve Knox asked. Every week for eight
weeks each summer more than one hundred children or youth from
Arizona and New Mexico converged on UIM International’s camp
twenty miles south of Gallup, New Mexico.
Steve prayed for guidance and then stepped to the
whiteboard with a marker. “Okay, let=s make a list of things we
need. I can think of several off the top of my head. Do you have
any suggestions?”
“We need another nurse,” Ruth Douglas responded, aware
that she could no longer care for all the cuts, bruises, and sprained
ankles by herself. Ann Kontz mentioned a main cook and kitchen
helpers.
“That reminds me,” Steve commented. “We must get that
new walk-in cooler installed and buy the commercial freezer the
state health authorities mandated. I don’t know where the money
will come from, but the state could shut us down if we don’t follow
through.”
Sufficient water was the greatest concern of the
maintenance man. “What will we do if the well goes dry when we
have 125 campers and 50 or more workers? We also need a new
porch and a combination laundry/bathhouse.”
The group scrutinized the whiteboard thoughtfully. “Oh

yes, two more things,” Steve stated, adding them to the list,
“adequate counselors and enough wranglers to serve tables, wash
dishes, and clean toilets.” Taking a long look at the list, he laid
down the marker and shook his head slowly. “We’d better pray!”
One by one the staff members prayed, acknowledging that
God alone could meet all the needs. “Most of all, Lord,” someone
prayed, “help the Navajo, Hualapai, Havasupai, Zuni, Hopi, and
Apache kids to trust Jesus as their Savior and grow in Him.”
“Keep praying,” Steve encouraged as the staff began to
scatter.
Applications from prospective counselors and wranglers
began to arrive. Several church teams promised their assistance. A
Phoenix, Arizona, camp supporter approached a lady in his Sunday
school class. “You’d make a good camp cook. Why don’t you go
help out at Broken Arrow this summer?” he challenged. The lady
became the main cook, and God provided an older couple to help
her for an entire month. Each week’s work team “just happened”
to have a registered nurse among them, and the water supply
remained adequate all summer. The walk-in cooler was installed
and volunteers built a porch and a laundry/bath facility.
And the state-mandated commercial freezer? Hearing of
the need, a California couple promised to pay for one. Not a single
staff member knew anything about purchasing or installing such
a freezer, but, miraculously, one of the summer volunteers was a
cooling systems expert.
Miracles continued. Someone made an outdoor gas grill,
someone else installed it, and another volunteer built a pavilion to
shelter it.
Prayer and teamwork combined to provide adequate
personnel, ample water, and improved camp facilities. The
greatest miracle, however, resulted from the team’s sharing of
God’s Truth and His Spirit’s working in the hearts of the campers.
One hundred nine of them placed their faith in Christ that summer!
25
Beyond Governmental Roadblocks
The phone rang just as UIM International Aviation (UIMA)
personnel gathered at their Tucson, Arizona, hangar for a
church-planting training session. Aviation Director Bryon
Brock excused himself, returning a short time later.
“That was Don Burgess,” he announced. Don, a missionary
in Chihuahua, Mexico, utilized UIM’s air services. “An American
tourist wrecked his 1967 Cessna 182 in the Copper Canyon area.
Don told the pilot about us, thinking the plane may not be insured.
He thinks the pilot might be willing to donate it to us if we’d go get
it. I doubt it can be rebuilt, but we might be able to salvage parts,
unless the locals steal them. They’ve tried to steal the engine, but
all they’ve done so far is poke holes in the wing tanks and steal
gasoline.”
One of the staff members urged immediate action, but
Bryon assured, “If the Lord wants us to have it, He’ll work things
out. We’re committed now to three days of church-planting
training.”
During breaks over the next three days the staff discussed
salvage plans and guessed the value of various parts. The engine
alone would likely net about $5,000.
One staff member suggested that they ask Don to find a
man to guard the plane. “Good idea,” Bryon responded. “I’ll call
and ask him to hire a watchman.”
Phone calls continued to disrupt the training sessions; focus
on the mandated sessions was difficult. Conflict arose within
the staff as to the importance of the sessions versus a salvage
operation. Recognizing God-dishonoring attitudes, they paused
the training sessions and prayed for patience, loving attitudes, and
God’s solution to the situation.
Finally, Bryon received a call from the airplane’s owner.
He told Bryon that the plane was insured and now belonged to the
insurance company. “I don’t have the authority to give it to you,

ut I told the insurance company about you.”
Toward the end of the week the insurance company called.
“Would your group be willing to salvage the plane and deliver it to
Phoenix for $10,000?”
“Sure,” Bryon responded. UIMA had been accident-free
for thirty years. Salvaging this plane could help them develop a
sound contingency plan in case they ever needed to salvage one of
their own planes. Ten thousand dollars would help with an engine
overhaul.
Chief pilot Dave Wolf obtained permission to transport the
aircraft out of the country. The training sessions ended Friday,
and retrieval and transport permits would expire Wednesday
at midnight. Before setting out to gather equipment for
disassembling the plane, the staff committed the project to God.
On Monday the salvage team left Tucson for the crash site.
Dennis Joyner accompanied Andy Fasnacht in his Ford pickup.
Mark McCurdy, his Suburban loaded with tools, pulled a trailer
loaded with used carpet for cushioning airplane parts.
At the Douglas, Arizona, port of entry the team spent
two hours answering multitudinous questions. Border agents
confiscated their eight five-gallon containers of gasoline and
refused to let the carpet into Mexico, necessitating a detour to the
Walmart dumpster.
Finally, the men began their journey down the two-lane
road into Mexico. With no cell phone signals, they relied on twoway
radios; in lieu of a map, they asked directions along the way.
At 2:00 a.m. Tuesday they arrived in Cuauhtémoc at the home of
Kenny Vankirk, a medical missionary for whom they had provided
many years of air service.
After a few hours’ sleep and a hearty breakfast, they
continued on their way, uncertain of the plane’s location or
condition. Might it have rolled down a mountainside? Early
Tuesday afternoon they spotted the wreckage on flat ground next to
the Divisadero airstrip, readily accessible and in a beautiful setting
on the edge of Copper Canyon.
The badly damaged plane, which had crashed into a stand
of cedar trees along the runway, was partially suspended in a small
tree. Parts were scattered everywhere. The UIMA team learned
later that Mexican military personnel had closed the airstrip and
made ruts across it to prevent its use. Evidently the inexperienced
pilot had tried to avoid the ruts by using the edge of the runway on
take-off, and the plane’s left wing had caught in the trees.
Immediately the team began to dismantle and load the
pieces onto the trailer, finishing before dark. The elderly man
whom Don had hired to guard the wreckage lived next to the
airstrip, and his wife graciously invited the men to supper. Andy
was hesitant to leave tools and vehicles under the old man’s
surveillance, but Mark advised that turning down the invitation
would be culturally improper.
After a delicious meal, the men drove to the Burgess home
and helped Don to repair a solar panel while enjoying his stories
about thirty-plus years of ministry among tribal people.
Wednesday morning the men set out by way of Chihuahua
City for New Mexico’s Santa Teresa border crossing, twenty
miles west of El Paso, Texas. Mark led the way, taking the longer
route through Santa Teresa rather than the shorter one to Juarez/El
Paso. The latter would necessitate fifteen miles of heavy traffic
and a lengthy wait at customs. Either way, Mark was concerned,
knowing that it was six hours to Chihuahua City and another five
to the border. Their permits would expire at midnight.
Periodically the men stopped to check their load. As they
pulled back onto the highway after one stop, Andy saw something
tumble from Mark’s trailer. “Weird! Looks like one of our twoway
radios,” he said, checking his pockets. “That is our radio!” he
exclaimed. “I left it on the fender of the trailer.” It wasn’t worth
retrieving. They just couldn’t communicate with Mark until they
had cell phone signals again.
Andy and Dennis crossed the Santa Teresa border fifteen
minutes before it closed for the night and waited for Mark at the
U.S. checkpoint. Mark was less fortunate. The customs official
told him it was too late to process him and that he lacked some
paperwork. He’d have to cross the border in Juarez. It was 10:00
p.m., two hours before the permits would expire. If he didn’t
cross the border in time, he’d have to return to Chihuahua City and

epeat the whole permission process.
With cell phone signals available again, Mark called Andy
and Dennis and told them to find a hotel; he’d join them in a few
hours. Then he phoned Bryon in Tucson and told him it was too
late to get processed in Santa Teresa. “And they won’t let me
cross without more paperwork. I’m heading for the Juarez/El Paso
border and hope to get there before midnight. Pray I’ll make it.”
“Will do,” Bryon assured him.
As Mark prayed for God’s help, he remembered an incident
five years earlier while living in Chihuahua. He had made all of
the proper preparations to export building materials, but at the
Mexican Customs office in Juarez he had been told to go to a
different border crossing. He had tried to follow the directions,
given in Spanish, but had made a wrong turn onto a one-way street
with no exits. It had led directly to the bridge over the Rio Grande
River and the customs office on the U.S. side. He decided to try
that route again.
Near midnight he crossed the border and arrived in El Paso.
He phoned Bryon to thank him for praying and then joined Andy
and Dennis. The next morning they journeyed to Tucson, and the
following day Mark delivered the parts to the insurance company
in Phoenix.
God had directed the men through a difficult and uncertain
task, providing partial funds for an engine overhaul in the process.
His ways were beyond understanding.
26
Beyond the Visible
The ambulance sped toward Seattle from Marysville,
Washington. Inside, eleven-year-old Steven Brock was
doubled with pain. Jim, his missionary dad, sat beside him
pondering recent events. Steven’s cold had persisted for nearly a
month. The pain in his chest had become so severe the previous
night that Jim and his wife, Kathy, had taken him to a walk-in
clinic. X-rays had revealed nothing, so the doctor surmised that
the cold just needed to run its course.
During the night, however, the pain had become so intense
that Jim had called Craig, his physical therapist friend. Craig came
and showed him how to raise Steven’s arms over his head every
twenty minutes to assist breathing. “You’d better take him to the
pediatrician the first thing tomorrow morning,” he advised, which
Jim did.
After examining Steven and obtaining blood work and
another X-ray, the doctor had summoned the ambulance. Jim
called Kathy to tell her that he and Steven were on their way to
Seattle Children’s Hospital. “The doctor doesn’t know what’s
wrong but says the situation is critical.” Kathy promised to see if
her brother could drive her to Seattle.
The hospital’s emergency room personnel found that
Steven’s white cell count was 40,000, much above the normal
5,000 to 6,000 count. An MRI revealed that fluid had caused his
left lung to collapse and his trachea and spinal column to move.
The fluid was extracted and Steven was started on heavy doses of
antibiotic before being admitted to isolation.
In spite of the antibiotic, Steven’s fever continued to
spike for six days. The white count dropped, but only to 25,000.
The medical team agreed that the problem was streptococcusconstallotus.
The doctor asked Jim to tell him more about Steven’s
recent health history.
“Well,” Jim replied, “he’s had a cold and a cough for a

month. A few weeks ago we took him to a dentist because he bit
something hard and cracked a tooth.”
After discussing all available information, the doctors
shared their conclusion with the Brocks. “This havoc was likely
caused by germs entering Steven’s blood stream through his
cracked tooth. He could be here for as long as three months. Even
then his white blood cell count may never return to normal. Our
biggest concern is that constallotus can jump from organ to organ
and trigger other uncontrollable infections. It would be best if we
surgically removed all of the infection.”
The Brocks agreed and told Steven what the doctors were
going to do and why. They asked God for courage and peace and
stayed with him.
Every time a doctor or nurse touched Steven, he
whimpered, but each time he thanked them for helping him. Jim
taped II Corinthians 4:17-18 to the closet near his bed. “Let
me read it to you, son,” he said: “For our light and momentary
troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs
them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what
is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is
eternal.”
“What can you see, Stevie boy?” he asked. Steven named
several people and objects.
“What are some real things you can’t see?”
“Jesus.”
The day before the surgery the surgeon explained his plans
to Steven. The next morning as the nurses wheeled Steven to the
operating room, Jim walked beside him holding his hand. Tears
trickled down Steven’s cheeks. “Daddy, I’m going to fix my eyes
on what is not seen, not on what is seen.”
Jim leaned over. “What do you see, son?”
“The hospital, the doctors, the nurses.”
“What are you fixing your eyes on?”
“God, heaven, Jesus. I’m going to think about Jesus.”
In the waiting room the Brocks, Kathy’s parents, and Craig
and his wife talked and prayed together as they waited for the
surgeon. Finally he appeared. “Steven came through fine,” he
said. “No complications. We got all the infection and twenty-five
percent of his lung. He’ll have a drain tube from his lungs for a
few days. We’ll let you know when he’s back from recovery.”
Two hours later the nurses called Jim and Kathy to Steven’s
room. Before long, he opened his eyes and looked at the nurses.
“Thank you,” he mumbled groggily, “and please thank the doctor
who operated on me.”
He recovered quickly and was soon released from the
hospital, having learned a valuable lesson: fixing one’s eyes on
Jesus and God’s Word makes seeming impossibilities much easier.

27
Beyond a Dying Battery
Jim Brock could barely see the road. Are my tired eyes playing
tricks on me? he wondered, tapping the brake pedal of his
1983 Chevrolet Suburban. The brake light barely reflected off
the RV he was pulling. He glanced at the voltmeter. Below ten.
The alternator!
Jim and his family were returning to Washington State from
their UIM International staff conference in New Mexico. It was
nearly midnight, and they were weary from the long day of travel.
“Kathy,” Jim whispered so as not to awaken the children, “we’ve
got alternator problems. There’s no way we can make it to Boise.
That last sign said 60 miles.”
Kathy asked God to keep the battery working until they
could make it safely to some town. The Brocks had experienced
previous breakdowns but had never been stranded on a highway.
Tonight might be a first.
Jim pulled in behind a truck traveling 65 miles an hour
and shut off the lights. For nearly thirty miles they followed one
truck after another. Finally they spotted lights in the distance.
“There’s a sign!” Kathy said. “Mountain Home? That wasn’t on
any previous signs.” The town would likely not be very big, but it
offered hope.
By then the children were wide awake. Jim switched on
the lights, exited the freeway, and turned toward the town some
distance away. The headlights grew steadily dimmer.
“Look!” Jim exclaimed, as they reached the outskirts of
town. “There’s a Les Schwab Tire and Battery Center!” He pulled
into the parking lot and turned off the key. Before crawling into
bed, they thanked God for bringing them safely not to just any
place but to a center focused on electrical systems.
The next morning the shop employees were surprised to
find a family camping in their parking lot. Jim apologized and
explained. “Well, we’re glad you made it here instead of breaking
down on the highway in the middle of the night,” one of them said.
The mechanic charged the battery and tested the alternator.
“Mr. Brock, you’ll need to go to NAPA Auto Parts just a few
blocks down the street to get an alternator.”
While Jim was gone, Kathy and the children ate breakfast.
Once the new alternator was installed, the family went on their
way rejoicing. Mountain Home may have been a tiny out-of-the
way place, but their Father knew exactly what their need was and
where help could be found.

28
Beyond a Missing Document
shook her head in amazement. God had protected the document
and miraculously revealed its whereabouts, all for His glory and
the benefit of His people.
Oakview Navajo Bible Church members in New Mexico
gathered around their visitors. Gene Burton, a UIM
International administrator, and his wife, Carol, and a
short-term mission team had joined them for the 2008 Easter
service.
“We have an urgent problem,” the Navajo pastor said.
“What’s that?” Gene asked.
“Our church and parsonage have been without water for
six months. Some years ago the Bureau of Indian Affairs agreed
to pipe water from the school to the church and parsonage, but last
fall during construction at the school the line was cut. The school
won’t reconnect it unless we have proof of the tribal water rights
agreement. No one knows where that is.”
Gene’s brow wrinkled thoughtfully. “The missionaries who
made that agreement may have died years ago,” he said, “but we’ll
see if we can find it.”
The Burtons and their team prayed with the congregation
before driving the few miles to the Zuni Reservation for lunch
with a Zuni family. Later that day they drove on to UIM’s nearby
Broken Arrow Bible Ranch for the night.
At the Ranch UIM missionary Ann Kontz greeted them
and showed them their overnight accommodations. “We were
at Oakview Navajo Bible Church this morning,” Carol told her.
“They’re facing a real challenge.”
“Oh?” Ann responded.
“They haven’t had water for six months. Last fall the water
line from the school to the church and parsonage was cut, and the
school won’t reconnect it without proof of a tribal agreement. One
evidently exists, but no one knows where it is.”
“Oh, it’s in our camp file,” Ann replied. “My husband
signed it in 1980 and it’s been in the file ever since.”
Retrieving the contract, she handed it to Carol. Carol

29
Beyond Chance
The yellow leaves of the stately cottonwoods swayed in the
gentle breeze across the road from Navajo Bible Church
in Fort Defiance, Arizona. After the morning service,
United Indian Missions missionary Ruth Douglas walked out
into the crisp, invigorating air. “Great day for a drive around the
reservation,” she commented to her friends. “I think I’ll go take
some pictures of traditional and modern Navajo homes to show my
missionary supporters.”
Ruth drove toward the Arizona/New Mexico border praying
for guidance. Near Tsaile Lake, Arizona, she sensed the Lord’s
directing her down a dirt road toward a traditional hogan. She had
no idea who lived there.
As she pulled up to the hogan, a middle-aged woman
opened the door. “Are you a missionary?” she asked.
“Why, yes,” Ruth replied, surprised. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, this morning I asked God to send a missionary. I
have no food for my five children. My husband drives a school
bus, but he spends all our money on alcohol.”
Ruth asked her if she were a Christian. She was but
her husband wasn’t. After praying for her and the family, Ruth
suggested that the lady and the children go with her to the trading
post for groceries. On the way home, the grateful woman thanked
Ruth.
“Where do you go to church?” Ruth asked.
“Tsaile Lake Bible Church.”
“Tsaile Lake Bible Church! Did anyone ever tell you how
that church got started?” The lady shook her head no.
Ruth began the story. A Navajo couple living at Navajo
Community College in Tsaile had noticed that children of students
living on campus had little to do. The couple asked Ruth if she
would have a Bible club for them at their house. The first week
three children came, the second week ten, and soon forty-five were
coming. Many of them trusted in Christ as their Savior.
Since the only other church in the area was Catholic, Ruth
had prayed for a pastor to start a Bible church. A couple who had
been praying with her about that need told her one day that God
was leading them to start the church.
“That man was Mr. McNutt,” Ruth said. “He asked me to
go with him to see if the college president would let us use one of
the rooms for a church service. The president not only consented,
he even volunteered to furnish coffee. So many people came to
the services that soon the classroom was too small. We asked God
what to do, and He provided money to build Tsaile Lake Bible
Church.”
The Navajo lady was thrilled to hear how God had started
her church. “I’m so glad you’re the one He sent in answer to my
prayer,” she said. “You helped us to get food and then you told me
about the wonderful things God did to give us a church.”
Ruth was grateful, too, both for the Holy Spirit’s leading
in the planting of the church and in directing her to one of God’s
needy children.

30
Beyond an Empty Wallet
31
Beyond Exhausting Trials
My student exchange monthly allowance was a week past
due. I opened my dormitory closet and took out my
wallet. It yielded a mere 78 Pfennigs (20 cents). My
room and noon meals at the Pädagogische Akademie in Wuppertal,
Germany, had been paid for, but I needed groceries for morning
and evening meals. For the first time in my twenty years I
recognized my sole dependence on my heavenly Father.
It was the late fifties. Home seemed trillions of miles away,
my parents unreachable. “Please, God, stretch these 78 Pfennigs
until my allowance arrives.”
I believed that He was a loving Father; at least I said I did.
Did I really believe it? Could I trust Him and remain calm? He
had proven Himself faithful before. He had always provided for
my parents, my four brothers, and me. Didn’t His Word say that
He would supply all my needs according to His riches in glory by
Christ Jesus?
The next day a girl who lived two doors down the hall
knocked at my door. She worked for the professor overseeing
exchange students. “Guten Morgen (good morning), Nita,” she
greeted, handing me an envelope. “Professor Harder asked me to
give this to you.”
She left and I sat down on the edge of the bed, puzzled.
Professor Harder had never sent me anything before. I reached for
the letter opener and slowly slit open the envelope. Out fell a 20
DM bill ($5.00). Though I could not see them, I had no doubt that
the bill was covered with my Heavenly Father’s fingerprints!
Directing a nurse-midwifery program in an Indian Health
Service hospital in the Southwest was hardly child’s play.
I scheduled myself for the same amount of clinical time as
I did my colleagues, which meant that most administrative duties
had to be cared for during nights and on weekends. Our small
staff covered prenatal, postpartum, well-baby, and family planning
clinics Mondays through Fridays. We also provided around-theclock
in-hospital obstetric services seven days a week. The patient
load was heavy, on-call time often hectic.
One Friday evening after a full week in the clinics, I began
the 8:00 p.m. Friday to 8:00 a.m. Monday call time at a fast pace,
circulating among women in active labor. Friday disappeared into
Saturday, Saturday into Sunday, and Sunday into Monday with a
full slate of labor patients, deliveries, and postpartum care. At 5:00
a.m. Monday a delivering patient sustained a laceration requiring
an obstetrician’s attention. The obstetrician quickly responded
to the nurse’s call, sutured the part of the laceration that I had not
been trained to repair, removed his gloves and mask, and walked
out of the delivery room.
Why didn’t he suture the whole thing? I grumbled
inwardly. He could have done it in minutes. My eyes were so
tired I could barely focus. I moved back into place, picked up the
needle, and with great effort completed the repair. Then I shuffled
to the nurses’ station to update the patient’s chart. At 8:00 a.m.,
after sixty hours of call time with scarcely a break, my weary
brain could marshal only one thought, the insanity of the on-call
schedule. I dragged myself home determined to find another job as
soon as possible.
I soon scheduled a job interview in the Midwest. Until
then, I’d have to deal with the frazzling circumstances. A free
weekend finally rolled around, and I knew I had to get away. If
my phone rang one more time, I was certain that my body would

explode into a billion bits. But where could I go? A Christian
youth camp fifty miles away?
I called the camp. “Ruth,” I wearily asked one of the
staff members, “is there a place at the camp I could stay for the
weekend? I’ve got to get away.”
“There are plenty of places, Juanita, but we’ve had so much
rain that the road into the camp is pure mud, deep mud. There’s no
way you could make it in from the highway.”
“O God,” I prayed, “don’t let this phone ring again until
I can get out of here.” Whom else could I call? My newlywed
friends! They temporarily occupied our church’s parsonage in
a neighboring town. I couldn’t call most people on the spur of
the moment and ask to stay with them, but prior to my friends’
marriage, they had appeared unexpectedly at my doorstep several
times and stayed for the weekend.
I picked up the phone. “Nancy, could I stay with you two
this weekend? I have to get away. I don’t want to be entertained,
but I would eat with you if you’d invite me.”
“We’d love to have you, Juanita, but we don’t have a spare
bed.”
“Would it be alright with you if I threw my sleeping bag on
the floor?”
“Sure, fine with us.”
I drove the seven miles. After supper and a visit, I tossed
my sleeping bag onto the dining room floor and slipped in. My
thoughts tumbled like pebbles in a rock polisher as I watched
flames dancing in the wood-burning stove. The job interview
was only two weeks away. Would I be hired? Could I do the job?
Would the schedule be less hectic than the murderous one I had?
Eventually sleep came. The next morning the world looked
a smidgen brighter, but my body and mind remained exhausted.
The only enlivening thought was my soon escape from the current
work situation.
After breakfast my friends ran some errands. I stood in
the kitchen doorway and surveyed the living room, bare except
for a wall poster and an upside-down bicycle awaiting repair. The
poster captured my attention. Angry green ocean waves surged
through a coral arch toward the shoreline. I identified with that
foaming, restless sea. I knew how it felt to crash endlessly against
immovable rocks. Then my eyes dropped to the caption: “The
Best Way Is Always Through.”
“The best way is always through?” My heart was pierced.
God’s voice was unmistakable, personal.
The supervisory nurse-midwifery position was mine by
default; I had been the senior nurse-midwife when the director
had resigned. I had not wanted the director position; in fact, I
had adamantly refused it, but the Holy Spirit had convicted me of
making that decision without seeking God’s mind. Reluctantly I
had prayed, hoping God would see things from my point of view.
To my dismay, He had shown me that the wisest decision was to
take the position until someone else could be hired. A promise
from Isaiah 43:2-3b had accompanied His direction: “When you
pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire,
you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. For
I am the LORD, your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior
. . . .” On that promise I had accepted the position. He had
been faithful during the ensuing months full of “water and fire”
experiences.
During the present difficulties, however, I had failed to
remind myself of His promise, and I had made the interview
appointment without seeking His direction. I had been focused
only on escape and self-preservation. I stood before the poster and
before Him in shame. “Lord, forgive me,” I cried. “If Your best
for me is to persevere through the difficulties, I’ll cancel that job
interview the first thing Monday morning.” I became increasingly
certain that that was His desire, and submitted. The inner turmoil
ceased. His grace would be sufficient.
Monday morning I cancelled the interview. My workload
did not decrease nor did the accompanying stresses, but the
Faithful One revealed more effective ways to manage the
schedule and delegate responsibilities. He often strengthened me
by reminding me of His promises. The best way was through.
Finagling my way around the “storm” would have spelled certain

defeat. His way brought victory. 32
Beyond the Deadly Jungle
For two days the search continued. Missionary Alan Foster
and his New Tribes Mission (NTM) coworkers Steve and
Felix trudged through Central Bolivia’s thick Amazon jungle
at the base of the Andean mountains. They were looking for Yuqui
Indians. For a couple of years they had had frequent contact
with one Yuqui group. Now, October 1985, they sought further
opportunities to build relationships with more tribal people and tell
them about Christ.
The second afternoon the men encountered 23 Yuquis,
the same group of men, women, and children who had been at
their mission base numerous times. These were the survivors of
36 Yuquis who had been ambushed the year before by Bolivian
farmers whose crops they had raided. The missionaries had spent
hours hunting and fishing with them. Many times they had fed
them and traded items such as knives, kettles, clothing, fish lines,
axes, thread, and needles.
A son of missionaries in Bolivia, Alan was fluent in Yuqui.
One of the Yuquis asked him if he and his friends planned to go
hunting or fishing. He said that some of his group were going to
go find food the next day and that the three men could go with
them if they wanted.
“Why don’t you all go back to our camp with us?” Alan
suggested. “We’ll give you food and medical care and protect you
from the Bolivian loggers, hunters, trappers, and oilmen.”
The Yuquis did not respond. The missionaries left to set
up a simple camp out of sight not far away. After discussing the
Yuquis’ invitation, they decided to go with them.
The next morning the missionaries joined four Yuqui men,
each carrying an eight-foot bow and some arrows. Together they
set out on a hunting/fishing expedition . . . or so the missionaries
thought.
The nearly invisible trail was exceptionally slippery, made

even more dangerous by protruding roots and hanging vines. The
missionaries, however, soon realized that the challenge they faced
was far more serious than the trail. These naked men insisted that
the missionaries walk single file in front of them, and all attempts
at friendly dialog failed. The Yuquis’ mood was unlike any the
missionaries had experienced previously. They were puzzled. Did
the Yuquis intend to kill them? It was impossible to watch them
closely while navigating the hazardous trail with their backs to
them.
Not long into the trek Alan heard an arrow grate on a
bow. A sickening thud followed, and Steve cried out in pain and
slumped to the ground in a pool of blood. Air was escaping his
lungs. The arrow had pierced his back and protruded from his
chest under his right rib cage. Alan threw himself to the ground
and looked furtively up the trail just as another Yuqui drew his
bow. A bleeder-tip ripped through the air, grazing Felix’s shoulder
blade. Alan gripped his rifle and fired into the air. The Yuquis
screamed, dropped their bows and arrows, and fled into the jungle.
Alan had no time to spare. Trembling, he prayed with Felix
and Steve and made them as comfortable as possible. Then, alert
for signs of the four men, he headed back toward the campsite,
his only hope of getting help quickly. Would their backpacks and
radio equipment still be there or had the Yuquis stolen them?
Within twenty minutes he reached the site. Most of
their belongings had been stolen, including Felix’s and Steve’s
backpacks and machetes. Providentially, the radio equipment the
men had removed from their packs was still there. That included
a battery pack with 9 D-cell batteries, a microphone, a 116-foot
dipole antenna with 50 feet of coaxial cable, and a 5-pound Stoner
transceiver radio with 20 watts of output power. Alan’s pack with
the rest of the radio gear was also there. If that had been stolen,
getting to the base for help would have required at least a two-day
struggle over the difficult eight-mile trail without a machete to
clear underbrush.
Watching and listening for signs of an ambush, Alan
hurriedly assembled the radio equipment and called the mission
base. Within minutes a search-and-rescue operation was underway.
He put the equipment in his pack and headed back to his injured
companions. Once again he set up the equipment to keep in
contact with the base and the rescue aircraft.
Three hours later a small missionary airplane located them.
Later that day a helicopter, with radio guidance from Alan, dropped
off seven men on a beach two kilometers away.
The next morning those men hiked to Alan and their injured
coworkers. Steve’s condition was too critical for them to carry
him through the jungle by stretcher. He’d have to be evacuated by
helicopter, which meant clearing a landing site.
With chainsaws lowered from a helicopter through the
hundred-foot tree canopy, the eight men worked several hours to
clear an area large enough for the helicopter to land. It returned
for Steve and Felix and flew to the mission base while Alan and
the seven rescuers hiked back to the beach. Just before sunset the
helicopter picked them up.
The injured men were transferred to Santa Cruz by small
aircraft, arriving at the hospital more than thirty hours post-injury.
Felix was treated and released, but Steve was hospitalized for more
than two weeks. Thankfully, maggots had prevented gangrene by
devouring his decaying flesh.
The emotional toll on the Fosters was intense. They
had spent years in that difficult jungle environment and made
the enormous sacrifice of sending their first-grader and secondgrader
to boarding school, and for what? It seemed impossible
to reach the Yuquis for Christ. A few from another group had
become believers twenty years earlier, but none of this nomadic
group had trusted Christ, even after missionaries from their own
tribe had witnessed to them. Despite the fact that Yuqui and non-
Yuqui missionaries alike had befriended them, these Yuquis had
shot six missionaries in the previous five years. By God’s mercy
and thanks to radios, helicopters, and advanced medical care and
antibiotics, all six had survived.
The Fosters needed a get-away, and Alan’s parasite-infected
eye needed medical attention. Driving to Cochabamba was out
of the question; the nearest road was badly rutted and eight miles
from the base through the jungle. Such a trip would then require at

least two more days over poorly maintained roads.
Two months after the attack the Fosters flew the two
hundred air miles to Cochabamba. For Vickie, separation from
their children was the most difficult aspect of missionary life. The
highlight of their six-week break was time with their two children
at NTM’s boarding school.
Back at the base, neither the Fosters nor any of the other
missionaries expected the Yuquis to return for several months. The
Yuquis undoubtedly thought they had killed a missionary, and after
three previous violent incidents, they had not reappeared for three
to six months. The missionaries would simply have to wait for
further contact. Secretly, Vickie did not care how long they had to
wait. She would sooner be elsewhere.
In the meantime, loggers informed the missionary families
that some Yuquis were roaming another section of the jungle.
Recovered, Felix and Steve and two other men surveyed the
specified area while Alan and Steve’s eighteen-year-old son, Kerry,
remained at the camp with the women and children.
After the survey team left, Alan, Vickie, and five-year-old
Caleb sat down to a simple meal. “Caleb, would you like to pray?”
Alan asked.
Caleb folded his hands. “Dear Lord Jesus, thank You for
the food, and please help the Indians to come back out today.”
Whatever possessed him to pray that! Vickie wondered, her
heart beating wildly. Her prayer was, “Please, Lord, don’t bring
them back out today. I need at least six months to recover.”
Three times within the next two days Caleb prayed the
same prayer, the third time with great urgency. “Lord Jesus, thank
You for the food, and please bring the Indians back out today!”
War raged within. Vickie put Caleb down for his afternoon
nap and hurried into her small doorless bedroom, oblivious to the
rough wooden floor, the split palm-wood walls, and the screencovered
window openings. She grabbed her Bible, flipped it open,
and stabbed her finger randomly at a verse. Slowly she read that
the Lord “turned the captivity of Job,” making him prosperous
again after he prayed for his friends.
Inaudibly, but unmistakably, God spoke. “Vickie, you are
in captivity. You’re resisting My Spirit. Until you pray for these
people, I’m going to keep working on you.”
“Lord, I don’t know what You’re trying to do,” Vickie
cried, falling to her knees, “but if You want those Indians to come
back today, Your will be done.”
Early the next morning ten very hungry Yuquis appeared
at the edge of the jungle. Although they had always received
abundant food and helpful trade items from the missionaries, this
time they seemed uncertain of their reception. They sent two
women slaves and a man slave ahead of the rest of them; women
and slaves were expendable.
The remaining Yuquis waited, listening for shots or
other signs of retaliation. Hearing none, they emerged from the
jungle: three higher-class women, a couple of teens, and the two
remaining warriors, the same two who had shot Steve and Felix.
They were unarmed. On some previous occasions they had proven
themselves untrustworthy and been warned never to bring bows
and arrows into the camp without permission.
Alan went out to meet them, his legs trembling. “Your legs
are shaking,” one Yuqui commented.
“Your legs would shake too if your ‘friends’ shot at you like
you did us,” Alan remarked. It was providential that he, the only
one of the missionaries with a grasp of the Yuqui language, was
there to interact with them.
Aware of insufficient personnel to control the situation if
the group became demanding, Alan looked at the Yuquis and then
nodded toward Kerry, standing seventy-five yards behind him with
a rifle. “If you touch me,” Alan warned, “he has orders to shoot
you in the legs.”
“We need food,” the Yuquis begged.
“Come back tomorrow and we’ll have plenty of food for
you,” Alan replied.
Immediately the group disappeared into the jungle. They
had gained a healthy respect for the missionaries’ proficiency with
guns.
By the time the Yuquis returned the next day, the survey
team was home and accompanied Alan to meet them. “We won’t

put up with your shooting arrows at us,” Alan warned. “We did
not shoot at you; the Bolivian farmers did, and they’ll do it again
if they have a chance. We are your friends. We will be happy
to provide you with all the food you need at any time and at no
charge—bananas, manioc, sugarcane, rice, meat, fish. And we’ll
be happy to continue trading for your bows and arrows and bark
hammocks, but we don’t want to be shot.”
The Yuquis took the food and disappeared into the jungle,
returning for more food several times over the next few days.
Vickie usually went with the others to greet the Yuquis.
One afternoon, though, overtaken by emotional trauma, she
remained inside. Just as the Yuquis headed back toward the jungle,
she glanced out the window. The light of the setting sun had
transformed the dense jungle into a deeper green. Brown-skinned
Yuquis draped in red fabric disappeared into it single file carrying
food and bartered items. She wished for a movie camera.
While she was absorbed in the beauty, her heavenly Father
broke through her reverie. “Vickie, what would you do if one of
those Yuquis were your child?”
“I’d do anything to reach them for you, Lord, whatever the
cost.”
“Vickie,” He seemed to say, “some of those Yuquis are My
children, and there’s no cost too great to rescue them from eternal
separation from Me.”
Vickie’s heart broke. Her attitude had not been pleasing to
Him. She thought of the Scripture verse she and Alan had chosen
for their work among the Yuquis: “. . . the love of Christ compels
us” (2 Corinthians 5:14). God loved these people and persevered
in bringing them to Himself. She must do the same.
33
Beyond Biomedical Equipment Service
Difficulties
For nearly three years Jim Freer had coordinated UIM
International’s Technical Services Department. Its small
staff and many volunteers participated in God’s work by
meeting missionaries’ technical needs. A vehicle needing repair
could temporarily halt a missionary’s ministry, as could scarce
or inadequate physical facilities. Construction, remodeling,
automotive care, landscaping, road repair—assistance in any of
these areas and others could contribute to people’s coming to
Christ. Technical Services played a significant part in achieving
UIM’s goals of evangelism and the establishment and development
of indigenous churches among Native, Hispanic, and Mexican
people of North America.
One of Jim’s responsibilities was to match missionary
requests for assistance with volunteers seeking short-term mission
opportunities. Most requests were for construction, automotive
maintenance, and other kinds of repairs. Whatever the request, Jim
loved watching God bring needs and personnel together.
Near the end of the 1980s Jim opened a letter and found
an unusual request: “Is there a biomedical equipment service
technician who could help me?”
What in the world is a biomedical equipment service
technician? Jim wondered. He had never before received such a
request. Not only did he not know what a biomedical equipment
service technician was, he had no idea where to look for one.
The following day another letter arrived, this one from
a would-be volunteer. Jim tore it open. “Do you have a place
I could serve the Lord with my biomedical equipment service
technician skills?”
Jim could hardly believe his eyes. Did I read that
correctly? He read the letter again. Indeed, that’s what it said.
Yes, he had just the place for this volunteer with skills he’d never

heard of. Obviously, God knew what they were, and providing
them for one of His needy servants was no problem for Him.
34
Beyond Incapacitating Fever
Scott and Christine Hayden lay in bed, exhausted from
dengue fever. This was not how they’d planned their 2010
October holiday weekend in Thailand. Weekend meant
no household help, so, despite exhaustion, the care of their four
children lay squarely on their shoulders. Holiday meant that their
helper would not come Monday either, the day their daughter
Krista would turn nine. Birthday guests had been invited, but
neither Scott nor Christine was able to plan or execute a party.
Early that weekend after the family had retired for the
night, Scott felt an inner nudge to pray with Christine, but he lay
listlessly with his face to the wall feeling justifiably resistant.
“God, You are the last one I want to talk to right now. Do I really
need to be suffering with dengue fever?”
The next morning Scott posted a desperate plea on
Facebook: “Anybody out there who could help us with a birthday
party for Krista?”
Ruth and Rosalee (fictitious names), two young ladies
from the church the Haydens attended, responded to Scott’s plea.
Neither had ever been to the Hayden home nor did they know the
Haydens well, but they picked up supplies and, together with two
mothers of party guests, made the party happen.
About a year later, Scott, a church elder, interviewed
Ruth for baptism, listening carefully to her story of coming to
Jesus. Part way through her testimony, he commented to the other
baptismal candidates, “A year ago Ruth was a particular blessing
to our family. My wife and I spent the October holiday weekend
fatigued from dengue fever. We dreaded Monday because we
were unable to prepare for the birthday party we had promised our
daughter Krista. Ruth and her friend helped to make that party a
reality.”
“There’s more to that story,” Ruth said. “I’m single and
have lived here in Thailand away from my family for many years.

When I came to your home to help with Krista’s birthday party,
I saw Christian parents working together to make a memory for
their child. I saw love among family members. I mingled with
Christian mothers who were also helping with the party, and I
came away with my heart full of what it means to have a Christian
home.”
Scott had been unaware that he and Christine had been
a blessing. They had simply focused on the blessing of being
helped, too weak to think of setting an example. God had been at
work in Ruth’s heart and now, by sharing her story, she had blessed
them twice.
“Thank You, God,” Scott breathed silently. “When I lay
in bed whining about having to go through the effects of dengue
fever, You were thinking about blessing Ruth through our home
and our weakness. You never waste a drop of suffering.”
35
Beyond a Closed Reserve
Jerry and Cara Holm and their two young daughters had just
crossed the U.S./Canadian border into British Columbia.
They were on their way to Fort Saint James, where Marvin
Anderson, Canada field director of United Indian Missions (UIM),
lived. Some years earlier they had helped with a vacation Bible
school in the Carrier village of Stellakoh at the west end of Fraser
Lake. Now, as missionaries with UIM, they would be ministering
in Nadleh, a village at the east end of that lake.
“We’ll need a warm place soon,” Cara said, noting the
wintry November weather. A home was uppermost on her mind.
“I hope we can live on the reserve,” Jerry responded. “The
missionary training leaders said that that’s the best way to learn
culture and language and have witnessing opportunities.”
“Yes, but remember, Honey, they said that non-Natives
aren’t allowed to live on the reserves?”
“We’ll just pray. I’m sure God will provide the right
place.”
The day after they arrived at the Anderson home, Marvin
and Jerry drove to Nadleh to see the chief. Jerry wanted to tell
him about his family’s move to the area and to ask about housing.
At the tribal band office the chief greeted them amiably. Jerry
explained that he and his wife and their two young daughters were
moving there to establish a First Nations Bible church with First
Nations leadership. “If possible, we’d like to live in your village.”
“Well, there aren’t many houses available,” the chief
replied courteously. “Some houses already have two or three
families in them. One of those families will have priority if a
house becomes available.”
Though understandable, the chief’s reply was discouraging,
yet Jerry remained hopeful; the chief had not said they would not
be allowed to live on the reserve. Before returning to Fort Saint
James, the two men looked for housing possibilities.

A couple of days later they returned with Cara to inspect a
cabin on leased land. “Well, here it is,” Jerry announced, stepping
inside and glancing around. “Look! The only thing between
the wall studs is cardboard, and the outside is nothing more than
sheeting! We’d freeze. How could the owners even consider
renting this for the winter?” he chuckled.
About seven miles from the reserve they found another
rental, but the asking price was beyond their budget. Then, hearing
of a family in nearby Ft. Fraser that wanted someone to live with
them for a month to help care for the wife following her back
surgery, they volunteered. That would allow more time to seek
suitable housing.
One day Jerry saw men tearing down an old house in
Nadleh and went to ask the chief if they could rent it.
“No, it’s beyond being reclaimed,” the chief responded.
Cara did not share Jerry’s eagerness to live on the reserve.
She’d heard horror stories and was fearful of raising their family
there. Surely God had a house for them elsewhere. However, she
trusted Jerry’s judgment and committed the outcome to the Lord.
Jerry kept looking. On a cold, dreary day he discovered
another house about two blocks from the tribal band office, just
beyond the community hall. It was dilapidated and had been
unoccupied for years. It was slated for demolition. “Let’s go look
at it, Cara,” he suggested.
All but two of the 48 window squares were missing. The
roof leaked, and, due to an un-insulated attic, water pipes had
frozen and broken, leaving stained and falling ceiling tiles and
curled floor tile. All of the plumbing fixtures would have to be
replaced and the electrical wiring checked and re-certified. Jerry
also noted that the house slanted to the south.
After listing items needed to make it livable, he visited
the building supply store for a cost estimate. Back at the village
chief’s office he described the house. “Could we rent it if we fix it
up?” he asked.
“Talk with the owner and the village council members. Let
me know what you find out,” the chief replied.
Some council members weren’t home, others lived ten
miles away, but within two weeks all had approved Jerry’s
proposal. To avoid being denied the privilege of renting the house
after repairing it, Jerry presented a two-year contract for the chief
and council members to sign.
Aware that his family was the only non-Native family
seeking to live in an all-Native village, he waited anxiously for the
council’s decision. His pursuit felt awkward, but he determined to
keep on that course unless God closed the door.
The day of the council meeting, the Holms drove to the
band office. Cara stayed in the car with the children and prayed
while Jerry went in. A half hour later he strode out grinning,
official-looking papers in hand. “Here’s the contract, approved and
signed. If we fix up the house, it’s ours for two years, and then it
will become a village housing unit at no cost to the village.”
God was definitely in control, for, historically, the Nadleh
community distrusted white people, especially missionaries. Jerry
set to work on the monumental task, but when the month with
the Ft. Fraser family ended, the house was still far from finished.
Thankfully, the building supply store owner invited his family to
live in their basement until their own house could be occupied.
Every day on his way to and from the unfinished house,
Jerry noticed people watching from their windows. He wondered
if his family should be planning to live in the village, but he kept
working.
With occasional help from a fellow missionary, Jerry
finished the plumbing, wiring, ceiling insulation and sheet-rocking,
floor insulation, and laying of the linoleum. Once some inside
walls were removed, the interior was painted, cupboards were
added, and the porch was incorporated into the living area, the
house began to feel more like a home.
Sometimes Jerry had to shovel snow from the driveway
before he could move materials into the house. Lack of electricity
limited his work hours, since it was too dark to see pencil marks on
the lumber before 9:00 a.m. and after 4:00 p.m. Once the wiring
was inspected and approved, he could work longer hours.
Several weeks into the project a villager stopped by. “Why
do you want to live on the reserve?” he asked.

“I want to start a First Nations church with First Nations
leadership,” Jerry replied, aware that, to most villagers, that was
a foreign concept. From time to time other men stopped by, but
none offered to help.
Finally the remodeling was complete. The house,
located on a main thoroughfare, was a great location for building
relationships. Visitors came all hours of the day and night.
Jerry had made the contract for two years because neither
he nor the villagers knew what they were getting into. As time
passed, he and Cara sensed that God had given them favor with the
people. That became evident at Christmastime when, incredibly,
their children received gifts along with First Nations children and
the elderly at the community Christmas feast.
Near the end of the two years, the Holms sought God’s
guidance for their next move. No other village house was
available. Should they try to remain there or move away? “Do
you suppose the chief would allow us to move a trailer house into
the village?” Jerry said to Cara. He decided to propose that idea.
“Go find several places you like,” the chief responded.
“I’ll tell you which one you can move a trailer onto.”
The Holms were delighted. Their first choice was a place
away from the center of village activity. Since it had no access
to electricity and they had small children in diapers and a lot of
laundry to do, the chief vetoed that site.
The Holms’ next suggestion was a dusty location just off
a main road. “That’s not a good place for a family with small
children,” the chief declared. “We’re planning another road behind
that property, which will add even more dust and traffic in the
area.”
The Holms’ third choice was acceptable. “Except,” the
chief explained, “because of the size of that lot and the others we
plan to develop, you should settle farther back in the trees.”
This time the chief and council members signed a threeyear
contract, and the Holms moved into their new trailer. They
had fewer visitors, but they made themselves available to anyone
day or night. They busied themselves raising their children, now
numbering five, and learning more about the people and their
culture. They participated in many activities, grateful that God had
given them favor in the community.
When it was time to renew the three-year contract, Jerry
consulted Cara. “Honey, we’re trying to build trust with these
people. I’ve begun to think that having them sign a contract every
few years doesn’t show much trust. Why should we expect them
to trust us if we don’t trust them? They want us to accept their
word like we want them to accept ours. Let’s not have them sign
any more contracts.”
The Holms continued to befriend and help the people,
shining the Light of Christ into the spiritually dark community.
They had Bible studies with anyone interested, although attendance
was so inconsistent that the studies usually lasted only a week or
two. They began a Kids’ Klub in Nadleh and in Stellakoh and
encouraged the children and youth to attend Rock Nest Ranch,
UIM’s youth camp. The camp became so popular that as many as
thirty-five Nadleh youth attended each summer.
Jerry continues to help villagers with construction
and cutting firewood. He assists community members with
maintenance, plumbing, and welding. Sometimes he installs
washers and dryers for families transitioning from using
Laundromats to personally owned appliances. For many years he
has served as the village fire chief. Cara participates in women’s
gatherings and often serves as a cook or a cook’s helper for many
village functions.
Nadleh has become home to the Holm family. Though few
villagers have turned to Christ, an indigenous church under First
Nations leadership remains the Holms’ goal as they plant and water
the seed of the Gospel. Jerry and Cara are praying diligently. God
miraculously opened the Carrier village to them; they trust that in
time He will open the Carriers’ hearts to Himself.

36
Beyond a Chance Connection
Medical personnel chatted among themselves as they
walked out of the auditorium at Akron General Hospital
in Ohio. Heads reeled with the enormous amount of
information just presented in the 2009 training session. How could
anyone ever learn all the skills necessary to utilize the hospital’s
new computer system? It certainly had benefits, but learning to
use it effectively would involve much time, effort, and frustration.
On the way out of the auditorium Steve Holsenback
stopped to talk with the instructor, expressing his concern.
“It will take six months to learn this system well,” the
instructor stated.
“Six months?” Steve replied. “I’ll barely have it learned
before it’s time for my wife and me to leave.” He and Heather
were completing medical training in anticipation of serving the
Lord in a Christian and Missionary Alliance (C&MA) hospital in
Koutiala, Mali, Africa.
“Where are you going?” the workshop instructor asked.
“Africa.”
“Mali, by chance?”
“Yes,” Steve replied, surprised.
“You’d be interested to know that my partner who
developed this computer program just returned from there. I’m
sure he’d enjoy speaking with you. I’ll give him a call and let you
talk with him.”
He dialed the number and handed his phone to Steve.
Steve soon discovered that the program designer was a member of
the Nebraska C&MA church that had just donated a million dollars
to build three buildings at the hospital to which he and Heather
were headed. What incredible ties between God’s children!
“If you’ll give me your e-mail address, I’ll send you our
missionary prayer letter,” Steve said.
Not long after the missionary letter was sent, Steve
received an e-mail from the Nebraska man. “Hey, Steve, it was
nice chatting with you the other day. Thanks much for your letter.
My wife and I want to support you and Heather in your mission
work. How do we go about it?”
Steve marveled. All this from a chance connection at a
secular workshop? Those not acquainted with the God of the
universe might think so, but Steve knew differently.

37
Beyond a Missed Turn
Jim Brown wrestled with his thoughts as he drove toward his
office at Biblical Ministries Worldwide in Atlanta, Georgia.
He sensed that God wanted him to talk with someone
specifically, but with whom? where? If God were truly the Author
of that feeling, He would surely direct him.
Thus preoccupied, Jim missed the freeway entrance. At
that moment his cell phone rang. “Hello,” he answered.
“Hi, Jim.” Jim did not recognize the male voice. The man
gave his name and said, “I met and talked with you recently at the
university church. Could we hang out sometime?”
“Sure, when’s a good time?”
“Now, if you can; otherwise, we can meet later,” the young
man answered. He told Jim his location.
“Actually, I’m not very far away,” Jim replied. “I can meet
you at the coffee shop in about five minutes.”
“Great. I’ll be there.”
At the coffee shop Jim sat down at a table with the thirtythree-year-old
believer. His lifeless eyes were downcast, his
shoulders hunched. His recent unwanted divorce had left him
without purpose; life no longer made any sense.
“Tell me,” Jim urged, “what is your identity as a child of
God?”
The man struggled visibly, searching for an answer. “A . . .
a confused Christian.”
“Listen,” Jim said, laying his hand on the man’s arm.
“Satan’s telling you that you’re worthless, a failure, that God has
deserted you. Those are nothing but lies.”
The man hung his head. “Yeah,” he nodded, “I’m damaged
goods and extremely lonely. God seems pretty distant.”
Jim paused and then asked, “What does it mean to you to
live as a child of God?”
No one had asked him that before. His face was blank; he
had absolutely no clue as to who he was in Christ.
“God loves you and me passionately,” Jim continued,
“and His love never changes. His mercy and grace toward us
are unfathomable and limitless. He made you, and He makes no
mistakes. You are of great value to Him.”
The young man listened attentively, a sparkle gradually
entering his eyes. He sat up straight and leaned back, more
relaxed. Jim felt certain that transformation had begun.
After talking a while longer, the young man confessed,
“Jim, this afternoon while I was sitting on the couch in my
apartment wrapped in total despair, I had no idea what to do. I felt
sure I was to call you, but I didn’t want to. I’m so glad I did.”
“You know,” Jim admitted, “I, too, sensed that God wanted
me to talk with someone, but I didn’t know with whom. In fact, I
was so focused on that thought that I missed the freeway entrance
near here. At that very moment you called. He knew your need
and cared enough to put me at the right place at just the right time.”

38
Beyond Unwanted Adventures
Rain pounded the Toyota Dolphin camper all night. The
next morning the campground resembled a lake. Will the
camper, loaded with two month’s worth of necessities,
make it to the highway? UIM International missionary Ann Kontz
wondered. It did, but that experience was only the beginning of
the challenges the little camper and its occupants would face.
Ann, her mother, and her two younger children were on
their way to visit Ann’s support team in New Mexico, Florida,
New York, and Pennsylvania. Since her parents served with her at
Broken Arrow Bible Ranch near Gallup, New Mexico, her dad had
been able to inspect the camper and install dual back wheels prior
to the trip.
On an interstate in Tennessee they were startled by a loud
noise. Discovering that the muffler was dragging, Ann retrieved
a coat hanger from the camper closet, inched her way under the
vehicle, and made a temporary fix.
That night another storm rolled through, and the next
morning it was still raining. Fields on both sides of the highway
were flooded. “I feel as though I’m driving on a bridge between
two lakes,” Ann commented. “And look at that car over there at
the side of the road half buried in water. Scary!”
Before long another loud clatter alerted Ann to the fact
that the muffler had fallen off. As she contemplated options,
a policeman pulled up and picked up the muffler. “There’s a
reputable garage at the next exit,” he said, handing it to her. With
the muffler reinstalled, they were soon on their way again.
After visiting Ann’s Florida supporters and enjoying
Disney World, they turned northward. Enroute to Washington
D.C., New York City, and Philadelphia, Ann shared her mission
work with various church groups. The travelers also toured several
interesting sites. Things went well for a few weeks, although at
times Ann sensed something amiss when she shifted gears.
Near Albany, New York, Ann’s dad’s best friend, Slim,
graciously offered to dump the camper’s black water and change
the oil. Not long afterward, Ann noticed that the oil pressure
was dropping. “What next?” she said, pulling off the highway.
Leaving her mother and daughter in the camper, she and elevenyear-old
Paul walked through a field to a farmhouse and knocked.
An elderly gentleman cautiously opened the door. “We’re having
car trouble,” Ann explained. “May we use your telephone?”
The old gentleman hesitated, looking first at Paul and then
at Ann and back at Paul. Finally he let Paul in. From the doorway
Ann tried to guide Paul’s call to Slim, but he needed help, so the
gentleman finally let Ann in. She called and Slim offered to come
to their aid.
“Thank you so much,” Ann said to the gentleman as she
and Paul started out the door.
The elderly man pointed to the field they had just crossed
and warned, “Don’t go through that field. There are bulls in there.”
Mother and son glanced at each other knowingly and gladly took
the long way back to the highway.
When Slim arrived, he discovered that the old gasket had
not come off when he installed the new gasket and filter. Once
again he changed the oil and sent the weary travelers on their way,
rejoicing that their trouble had occurred while they were still in his
vicinity.
Most of Ann’s meetings were scheduled in western
Pennsylvania, since that’s where she had grown up. Shortly after
they crossed the Pennsylvania state line on their way there, the
transmission began to fail. Ann inched the camper down a narrow
winding road to the little town of Corry and pulled into the first
business, a restaurant with a phone booth. Four feet short of the
aimed-for parking space the transmission quit.
Ann called a cousin in Greenville, a couple of hours away,
and told her what had happened. “Oh, I know a mechanic in Corry
who attends our Bible study,” her cousin said. “I’ll call and ask
him to take your camper to his shop. Cousin Charlotte will come
and pick you up and loan you a car so you can continue your
meeting schedule.” While waiting, Ann pondered the fact that God

always seemed to be a jump ahead of them.
After their final meeting, the family wended their way to
a cousin reunion. As she drove, Ann noticed in the side mirror
that the rear wheel was wobbling. She stopped several times and
tightened the lug nuts before arriving at the reunion. When they
got there, her mechanic cousin checked things out. “That dual
wheel kit your dad installed was defective,” he announced. “Each
time you tightened the nuts, the axle pulled farther apart.” To think
that they had traveled 8,000 miles with that defect!
Once the repair and the cousin reunion were history, the
family headed west to New Mexico, extremely grateful for God’s
special protection and provision. Though the trip had been fraught
with numerous undesirable “adventures,” every mile of it had been
under His scrutiny and care.
39
Beyond Mere Guests
Could you two come to our home for lunch?” Barden Borst
asked Elaine Merrill after the morning service at the Niles,
Michigan, church.
“We’d love to,” Elaine responded. “I’ll see if Dar has any other
plans.”
After consulting her husband, a visiting evangelist who was
counseling several people, she returned. “Dar thinks it would be
great to have lunch with you. He’ll be finished in a minute.”
The Merrills followed Barden and Alyce to their home. As
Elaine walked through their front door, she remarked, “Your home
looks like a Bonanza Restaurant.”
“Well,” Barden said, “we started the Bonanza Restaurants
and decided to make our home look like one.”
“You look like Colonel Sanders,” Elaine teased. “I thought
you’d have a Kentucky Fried Chicken restaurant.”
Elaine and Alyce visited while preparing the meal. When
it was ready, Barden invited the guests to the table. “We’re so glad
you took time to come for dinner,” he said. “Guest speakers often
come to our church, but you’re the first to accept our invitation.
Most leave their coat near the front of the church and head out
through the back door as soon as the service is over. They seldom
visit with people, and they always stay in motels. You two had
time to look at us.”
“This is a real treat,” Elaine said. “So was our visit at the
church.” The Merrills loved fellowshipping with believers and
helping people with spiritual needs. They were pleased that they
had encouraged their hosts.
During the meal Dar asked Barden what kinds of things
he enjoyed doing. “Well, I like to play the trumpet. We used to
go to Florida for the winter, and I enjoyed playing for nursing
home residents there. I can’t play much here because Michigan’s
climate is bad for my arthritis. Now that our family is taking over

our business, we’ll have more free time and are thinking about
wintering in Florida again. What do you think of that idea?”
“Sounds great. The Lord can use you there,” Dar said
enthusiastically. “And that climate would certainly be good for
your arthritis.”
After lunch Barden mentioned that some family members
might show up during the afternoon. “We’d like for you to meet
them. They say they’re Christians, but they don’t attend church.”
Several did come and joined in an afternoon of
conversation, relaxation, and laughter. At every opportunity, Dar
and Elaine talked about the Lord, and when the family members
prepared to leave, Dar invited them to the evening service.
Both the Borsts and the Merrills were delighted that a
daughter of the Borsts and another family member did appear that
evening. Elaine even had opportunity to talk and pray with the
daughter.
That winter the Borsts went to Florida, and Barden again
played his trumpet in parks, churches, and nursing homes and led
Bible studies and shared the Gospel. They saw many people trust
Christ as Savior.
During subsequent visits with the Borsts, Dar and Elaine
had the joy of leading several of the Borsts’ family members to
Christ. Many times Barden mentioned that first visit. Not only
had the Merrills’ friendliness greatly encouraged him and his wife,
but it had contributed to their loved ones coming to salvation.
40
Beyond Normal Roadside Service
Dar and Elaine Merrill wended their way toward the church
where Dar, a traveling evangelist, was to speak. Their
relaxed enjoyment of Pennsylvania’s rolling hills, verdant
deciduous trees, and abundant colorful wildflowers suddenly
ceased when, without warning, their van sputtered and died. What
does God have in mind this time? Dar wondered, letting the van
coast to the side of the road.
It was nearly time for the service. Dar quickly packed his
Bible and some magic illustrations into his tote bag, slung it over
his shoulder, and prepared to walk the last half mile. Just then the
couple with whom they had just eaten breakfast drove up. “What’s
the matter?” the man asked.
“Don’t know,” Dar replied. “The engine just died.”
A quick glance under the hood revealed nothing. “I hope
it’s nothing serious,” Dar commented. “We have to be in Michigan
tomorrow. But God’s worked miracles many times in our annual
coast-to-coast travels and into Mexico. I’m sure He knows what’s
wrong and will take care of it somehow.”
The breakfast host invited the Merrills to ride with them,
promising to help check out the van’s problem after church.
At church the pastor prayed about the van and the Michigan
appointment. After the service, Dar and Elaine mingled with the
congregation. As they prepared to leave, a couple asked, “Is that
your blue and gray van we saw on our way to church?”
“Yes,” Dar answered. “It just stopped all of a sudden. I
have no idea what’s wrong.”
The man was a mechanic and offered to take a look at it.
He invited the Merrills to ride with them. Several men from the
church followed and all stood around talking while the mechanic
assessed the problem.
“It’s either a coil or the module,” the mechanic said. “I
think I have both at home. I’ll run home and see.”

“How far does your mechanic friend live from the church?”
someone asked Dar and Elaine after the man and his wife left.
“You mean . . . that couple that just went after parts?”
Elaine asked.
The man nodded.
“We don’t know them; we thought they were your friends.”
“Today’s the first time I’ve seen them. I don’t think
they’ve been at the church before.”
Soon the mechanic returned and began installing the
module. One of the men asked if he and his wife had ever been to
the church before.
“No, we’re new in the area. We’ve been looking for a
church home and saw your ad in the paper. We decided to visit this
morning. There,” he said, finishing the module installation, “let’s
try it.”
The van responded immediately to the turn of the ignition
switch. Dar shook his head in awe. “Thank you so much,” he
said, placing his hand on the mechanic’s shoulder. “The Lord used
you to do it again. He’s gotten us out of so many tough situations
in the past. This time He brought you to the church the very
Sunday we needed a mechanic and even had a module stored in
your garage. He never fails.”
41
Beyond Material Blessings
Having clothes frozen to the outside wall of their closet was
a bit perturbing, but Doug and Barb Nelson were certain
that the Lord had provided their uninsulated rental house.
As UIM International missionaries, they had been advised to live
in Old Town when they moved to the Gitanmaax Reserve in the
Hazeltons, British Columbia (B.C.), Canada. The Hazeltons is an
area inhabited by both Gitxsan and Wet’suwet’en First Nations.
Old Town was a perfect location for them, surrounded by
the reserve and close to the health unit and the human resources
facility. The Skeena River was their back yard. With all the foot
traffic, it was a great place to meet people.
At one time the rental house with a picket fence and
yellow roses had been used as a “motel” for sternwheeler riverboat
captains. Both the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and the
Provincial Police had utilized it as a jail. The Nelsons soon
transformed it into a cozy home.
High on the Nelsons’ list of priorities was meeting and
developing relationships with people. Prayer would be the key to
discovering how best to apply the knowledge they had learned in
their Missionary Development Program.
Previously the Nelsons had served at Rock Nest Ranch
(RNR), UIM’s summer camp in B.C. Upon their arrival in the
Hazeltons, children who had been to camp ran up and hugged
them, calling them by their camp names. They introduced them
to their families and invited them to birthday parties. The Nelsons
also became good friends with a couple to whom their field
director had introduced them.
In order to become better integrated into the community,
the Nelsons volunteered for various activities. As an RN, Barb
tested hearing and vision; Doug served on the library board. Little
by little they settled into their new environment. About a year
after they arrived, their cozy home and all their belongings burned.

That’s when they became very aware that the community had
accepted them, demonstrating their love in numerous ways. One
day, for example, when Doug and Barb were cleaning up debris
from the fire, a First Nations man drove up in his new pickup and
handed them the key. “Use my truck,” he said and then walked
home.
The following year the Nelsons needed to visit the churches
and individuals that supported them by prayer and finances, but
how that could be possible, only God knew. They hardly had
enough money to drive out of town. One night, unable to sleep,
Barb awakened Doug. “Doug, are we sure this is where God wants
us? Are the people seeing Christ in us? We aren’t seeing dozens
coming to Him.”
The next day a First Nations friend called. “Barb, my mom
is planning a coffee tonight and wants you two to come.”
At seven o’clock Doug and Barb arrived, totally unprepared
for shouts of “Surprise!” as they entered the house. Birthday
decorations adorned the room; the dining table was laden with
food. “You won’t be here on your birthdays,” someone explained,
“so we’re celebrating early.”
Everyone enjoyed talking and eating. After the meal, out
came some guitars and song books and everyone began singing
Christian songs. Finally, Barb was asked to come to the front of
the group. “Stand there,” she was told, “and when people come by
and hand you money, toss it into one of those guitar cases.”
The Nelsons weren’t familiar with this ceremony, but Barb
did what was requested. One by one the guests were called to the
front. Each came “Indian dancing” and handed Barb some money,
which she dutifully dropped into the guitar case.
After the last person, Barb sat down, and the money was
counted. The person in charge then called the Nelsons to the front
and said, “Here, this is for you.”
The Nelsons were overwhelmed. They had shared
their financial need with no one but God, yet He had just used
their friends to provide more than they needed for their trip to
supporters. Tearfully, Barb explained the difficulty they had been
facing and thanked them for their generous gift. Their friends
gathered around them, expressing appreciation and encouragement.
“Why don’t you pray, Doug?” someone finally suggested.
It was a perfect ending to an amazing day.
The Nelsons left the party feeling as though their feet were
scarcely touching the ground. They had been so blessed, felt so
loved. God had called them to minister to this community and
affirmed them in such special ways. Their extended First Nations
family had accepted them, taught them their language and culture,
and shared with them their heartaches, challenges, and hopes.
Their obedience to God’s leading had brought blessings far beyond
mere material provision.

42
Beyond Retirement
It didn’t matter to missionary Art Norris if someone had had
a formal education or not. “A desire to learn God’s Word
and share it with others is reason enough to admit someone
to a Bible school,” he declared. Most of the Navajo Bible
Institute (NBI) students in Cortez, Colorado, had had little formal
education, but their passion for sharing the Gospel was unmatched.
Ordinary, humble folk, Art and his wife, Emalou, had an
intense love for Native people. No situation was too difficult
and no inconvenience too great if through that difficulty or
inconvenience they could exalt Christ and advance His purposes.
In the late 1930s both Art and Emalou had served the Lord
on the Navajo Reservation. Married in 1943, they continued to
pursue the goals God laid before them, confident of His leading
and provision.
The primary burden of the Norrises’ hearts was the need for
indigenous pastors and church leaders. Emalou had dreamed of a
Bible school for Native Christians. One step toward that goal was
realized in the late 1940s when they moved to Cortez, Colorado,
and started a Bible camp. As the children in that ministry grew
older, the Norrises began the Navajo Bible Reading School, later
broadening it into a two- to three-month Bible course.
In 1960 God directed the Norrises and some other
missionaries to establish NBI. Art recruited students and staff,
raised funds, taught classes, oversaw maintenance, handled
discipline problems, and shouldered administrative responsibilities.
In addition to caring for their six children, Emalou cooked for the
students and managed innumerable other tasks. Seeing trained
Native Christians serving as leaders in reservation churches
brought them much joy.
By their mid-sixties, Emalou’s health required a change of
pace. Art needed to slow down, too, but retiring was easier to talk
about than to do. Where was a scriptural mandate to withdraw
from work at age 65 and take it easy? “The only Scripture that
God seems to lay on my heart about this matter,” Art told NBI’s
board of directors, “is Luke 5:4b: ‘Put out into deep water, and let
down the nets for a catch.’”
Eventually the Norrises did step back from the pressures
of the school, but in no way did that mean retirement. How could
it when the Gospel had not yet penetrated the ends of the earth?
Canadian-born Art longed to take the Good News to the First
Nations of Canada and involve Navajo Christians in the process.
Praying relentlessly, he challenged Navajos with that vision.
The God-originated dream moved toward reality when
Art visited the unreached Dogrib Tribe in Canada’s Northwest
Territories (NWT). In the early 1980s he began exposing the
Navajos to the Dogribs and their spiritual needs. When Navajos
themselves launched a mission organization and traveled to
minister to the Dogribs on their own, his joy knew no end.
Having served as catalysts for that movement, the Norrises
could have retired with clear consciences. They even set April
1, 1987, as their retirement date, but that date came and went,
and they turned vigorous attention to reaching unreached groups
in northern Alberta. Not until January 1988, at age 73, did they
“retire,” which simply meant that they would no longer report to or
receive funds from a mission organization. People’s need for Jesus
Christ had not ceased.
Retired Canadian friends Jim and Mildred Taylor partnered
with the Norrises, visiting First Nations villages, teaching Bible
truths to super-active children, and finding other practical ways
to spread the Gospel. The salvation of these people was their
compelling passion.
At times Art and Jim journeyed to Northern Alberta
without their spouses. On one such trip they prayerfully searched
for a half acre of land on which to develop a Bible camp. They
were convinced that Christian camping was an effective way
to evangelize and disciple Native youth. Despite seemingly
insurmountable obstacles, they persevered, even sharing their
vision with members of High Level Baptist Church in Alberta.
On the way back to Colorado, Art dropped Jim off at his

home in Three Hills, Alberta. “Jim,” he confided, “I may never see
a camping ministry materialize. I’m 77 and am facing radiation
therapy for prostate cancer.”
A short time after Art arrived home, Len Dueck, a
counselor in a Canadian government school, called. “Brother
Art,” he said, “I heard you and Jim speak at High Level, and
your proposed camping ministry gripped my heart. I’ve been
praying for someone to reach First Nations children for Christ,
and a camping ministry seems a good way for that to happen. My
wife and I want to give several acres of our 120-acre farm for the
development of a camp.”
Several acres! Art and Jim had asked God for a mere half
acre.
“The farm is about thirty miles east of High Level,” Len
continued. “It has a cabin, natural gas, water, electricity, and
telephone service.”
Art’s discouragement turned to euphoria. A Bible camp
was becoming a reality. As often as possible, he and Jim returned
to Alberta to assist in laying the groundwork. God could as easily
provide for the camp’s development as He had for its birth.
The donated facilities, later named Eagle’s Nest Bible
Camp, were useable but not modernized. The Shantymen, a
Canadian mission, held an abbreviated camping season there in
1994 followed by a full-fledged season in 1995. One evening,
sitting at the outer edge of the campfire circle, Art was overcome
with delight as Slavey, Cree, and Dogrib youth responded to God’s
Word.
Every summer until the Norrises were well into their
eighties, they drove the long, arduous miles between Cortez and
Northern Alberta’s spiritually needy First Nations communities.
Together with the Taylors they surveyed villages and interacted
with tribal elders and laypeople. They had vacation Bible schools
in their motor home and partnered with Navajo believers in
special Christmas services. Nothing stopped them: weary days,
unfriendly encounters, ravenous mosquitoes, even a vandalized
motor home.
Then God slipped another idea into Art’s mind. The
Aboriginals of Northern Alberta needed the benefits of Christian
radio. Persistently he sought ways to have the Gospel broadcast
into the area. One day he and Emalou slowly navigated a primitive
mountain road in their motor home to check out radio signals.
Their tires spun as they crept up the mountain. Finding no place to
turn around at the top, Art bravely backed the two miles down the
treacherous trail with Emalou directing from the rear window.
Art refused to let the vision of Christian radio for Northern
Canada’s First Nations people die. Not finding a solution when
he returned to the NWT with a Navajo Christian to check out
radio potential in Hay River, he went back with his son-in-law and
a young friend in the spring of 1998. Using a satellite receiver,
they hoped to “pull in Sky Angel,” a program providing fourteen
conservative TV stations and fourteen FM stations. Those attempts
also failed.
Art continually pondered ways to reach more people via
radio. The summer of 1999 he and a coworker discovered a
secular station broadcasting twenty-four hours a day seven days a
week via satellite to fifty-five FM stations scattered over Alberta.
He also found a Navajo Christian willing to provide a year’s worth
of taped Gospel messages for that station.
Not all of Art’s decades-old, God-sized dreams found
fulfillment before his death in October 2001, but many did. In
spite of deteriorating health, he continued to encourage Navajo
Christians to carry out the Great Commission and was elated
when they began supporting a missionary among the Dogribs.
A fledgling Dogrib church emerged, and several churches were
planted among some of Alberta’s First Nations as well.
Art’s God-inspired goal of seeing the Gospel ride the
air waves to the First Nations became a reality in January 2003
when CIAM (“See, I AM!”) Radio began broadcasting the Good
News in Alberta. Less than a decade after Art entered the Lord’s
presence, CIAM Radio’s outreach had expanded to 21 transmitters,
reaching First Nations people as far away as British Columbia and
Saskatchewan.
Eagle’s Nest Bible Camp ministries also expanded,
reaching a couple hundred children and youth each year, many of

whom placed their faith in Christ.
Within the hearts of the Norrises and the Taylors God
embedded special love for Native people of North America. He
kept them faithful and lovingly ruled over every aspect of their
lives. Not only did He entrust them with His ideas, but He
strengthened and empowered them and answered their prayers.
All praise to Him as He continues to provide personnel, funds,
and equipment to spread the story of eternal redemption among
Canada’s First Nations citizens.
43
Beyond an Empty Display Space
If something weren’t done, the Peters family would have
to leave their ministry with Northern Canada Evangelical
Mission. Rhonda’s constant asthma and severe skin irritation
were becoming unbearable. The only solution was to build a
new house, avoiding any materials that would contribute to the
problem.
Carefully she and her husband, Phil, designed a new home,
keeping in mind a display space for a nice print or other decorative
wall item behind the dining room table. That was something
Rhonda had dreamed of for years.
A year after the house was built, the display space remained
empty. They simply could not afford a nice print, even though
Rhonda had managed to save $150 toward one.
“Why don’t you find an old French door and paint it
black?” a friend suggested. “You could replace the glass with
mirrors. I have one like that hanging in my kitchen.”
“Where could I find a French door with no doorknob
holes?” Rhonda asked.
“Try the hardware store.”
Rhonda called a hardware store and asked if it were
possible to find a French-style door with no doorknob holes and if
it could have mirrors instead of glass.
“I’ll check on it,” the employee promised.
Four days later the employee called to say they had finally
found a door to her specifications and asked if he should order it.
“How much is it?”
“Three hundred sixty dollars.”
Rhonda gulped. She had only $150, but how could she say
no when he had searched for four days? “Go ahead and order it,”
she said. She’d pay the difference with her credit card.
Her stomach churned as she hung up. How could she
spend money they didn’t have? How could she go into debt for a

wall decoration? All day she justified her actions, but the next day
she was deeply convicted. “Lord, forgive me for such a foolish
decision just to avoid being embarrassed. We can’t afford that
door. Please stop the order somehow.”
A few days later the man at the hardware store called.
“Ma’am, your door is in. Unfortunately, it was broken during
shipping. Do you still want it?”
Praise God! Rhonda thought. I don’t have to buy it. Then
she had another thought. Might she get the damaged door for less
money? “We’ll decide after my husband comes in to look at it,”
she replied.
Later that day Phil visited the hardware store. Because of
the damage, the shipping company had bought the door. Since
Rhonda and Phil were friends with Dave, a co-owner of the
shipping company, Rhonda called him. “Dave, we ordered a door
through the hardware store, but it was damaged during shipping.
The store said your company had to buy it back. What will you do
with it? Could we buy it at a reduced cost?”
“Just a minute. Let me check.” Finally, Dave returned to
the phone. He couldn’t find the door but said he’d keep looking.
He asked Rhonda to call him again in a few days.
About a week later Rhonda called again. “Did you find the
door, Dave?”
“Yeah, finally.”
“Can we buy it?”
“It’s still wrapped in plastic, so I don’t know what shape
it’s in, but if you want it, you can have it for nothing. The guys
need to make a delivery in your area and I’ll have them deliver it.”
A French door . . . for free? Rhonda hoped the damage
was minimal. When she returned from shopping the next day, the
packaged door was leaning against the front porch. That evening
when she and Phil carefully removed the plastic wrap, she could
not believe her eyes. Both sides of the door had mirrors. Only one
side was cracked; the other side was perfect for a wall hanging.
They painted the door black and hung it on the wall behind
their dining room set. Each time a guest complimented them on
their mirrored decoration, Rhonda was quick to respond. “We
take no credit. God hand-delivered that double-sided blessing
absolutely free.”

44
Beyond Nine Ears
Rhonda Peters quickly washed the bedding and cleaned the
house after her family’s weekend guests left. Her next task
was planning meals and buying groceries for three more
guests. Her hospitality ministry was often tiring, but she loved it.
As missionaries with Northern Canada Evangelical Mission, she
and Phil and their four young children hosted guests frequently.
The day the guests were to arrive, Rhonda’s work appeared
unending, but God strengthened her as she recalled Galatians
5:13b: “Serve one another in love.” Cooking the evening meal
for nine people was a bit mechanical, but she did it with a cheerful
heart.
Rhonda had purchased nine ears of corn, one for each
person. As mealtime neared, Phil called from the radio station.
“Honey, I forgot to tell you that I invited our volunteer to join us
for dinner.”
Ten people, nine ears of corn! Prayer followed momentary
panic. Rhonda decided that she and Phil could share an ear.
Everything didn’t have to be perfect; she just needed to maintain a
servant attitude and a willing heart.
“Children,” she called, “would you please husk the corn
that’s on the front porch?” They loved to husk corn and set to
work immediately. She soon had it on the stove to cook.
As she was setting the table, Phil arrived with all the
guests. He and the volunteer had been training the other guests at
the Christian radio station. “Where did all the corn on the porch
come from?” he asked.
“The grocery store,” Rhonda replied, embarrassed. “I just
forgot to have the kids clean up the mess.”
“No, I mean, where did all the corn come from?” Phil
insisted.
“They’re just husks,” Rhonda said, a bit impatiently. “The
corn’s on the stove cooking.” Caring for last-minute dinner details
was taxing enough without this conversation.
“Come and see for yourself.” Phil motioned Rhonda to the
porch. Reluctantly she followed.
“Where did all this corn come from?” There sat a fivegallon
bucket filled with ears of corn. None of the family knew
its source, but the Lord knew, just as He knew that Rhonda needed
one more ear. She had chosen to serve Him with a cheerful heart,
and He had rewarded her abundantly.

45
Beyond Pain
Could this be the short-term mission project I’ve been
looking for? Alice Shaver wondered as she read Broken
Arrow Bible Ranch’s 2010 spring newsletter. She had
known about UIM International’s camp in New Mexico for years;
now the need for kitchen helpers seemed to jump off the page.
Prayerfully she called the camp for more information and hung up
certain that this indeed was the perfect opportunity for her.
A couple of months before the beginning of the camping
season, Alice began to experience pain in her left hip. It gradually
worsened, radiating down her leg and into her ankle. Being on
her feet in an extremely busy kitchen day after day for nine weeks
would be impossible.
Neither chiropractic treatments nor electro-acupuncture
helped. In early May spinal X-rays indicated degenerative
disease. The cartilage between the vertebrae in Alice’s lower back
was compressed, affecting nerves to her left leg. One vertebra
was skewed to the right. The chiropractor encouraged lengthy
rehabilitative therapy and gave muscle-strengthening exercises.
Discouraged, Alice stopped by her home church in Salem,
Missouri, one Tuesday where two ladies were quilting. “I really
want to help at Broken Arrow this summer,” she told them, “but
with my pain, it would be impossible.”
Compassionately, the two ladies placed their hands on
Alice’s shoulders and prayed. “Please, God, remove Alice’s pain
and make it possible for her to serve You this summer at Broken
Arrow.”
The following Monday morning Alice got out of bed with
absolutely no pain. “Lord,” she exclaimed, “I think this means that
You want me at Broken Arrow!”
Despite the absence of pain, she kept her chiropractic
appointment that week. After examining her, the chiropractor
announced, “You don’t need an adjustment today.”
Joyously Alice shared the exhilarating news with the
quilting ladies and other friends. She thanked and praised God
daily for a pain-free body and for His faithfulness and mercy and
guidance regarding her summer ministry.
When the time arrived, she drove to New Mexico and
began the demanding nine-week kitchen schedule—five to seven
hours a day five days a week. She made salads and prepared fresh
fruit. She filled a multitude of containers: salad dressing, salsa,
pancake syrup, catsup, mustard, peanut butter, and jelly. Every
task was accomplished essentially without pain, a miracle from the
hand of the Great Physician.

46
Beyond Control of Authorities
UIM International pilot Dave Wolf landed his plane on
the blacktopped airstrip at Huatabampo, a Mayo Indian
community along the coastal plains of Northern Mexico.
Minutes later Len, a fellow missionary pilot, cleared the electric
lines and touched down. Black pebbles scattered as the planes
rolled to a stop. Stepping off the planes, the pilots and several
mission administrators found themselves surrounded by policemen
and soldiers.
Dave turned questioningly toward the police. “You landed
illegally!” one of them barked. “This airstrip is closed.”
“There was no notice of its closure,” Dave said calmly.
“Well, it’s closed,” the same policeman insisted. He and
his colleagues proceeded to search the airplanes and inspect the
baggage.
“We’re in a tough spot, Len,” Dave said quietly. “They
could jail us and confiscate our planes.”
“Even if they let us go, my plane has a problem that has to
be fixed before I can leave,” Len said. Silently the men prayed for
God’s help.
Missionary Eldon Miner was waiting to transport the
administrators to a Mayo village to visit pastors. After their bags
were inspected, the administrators made their way to his vehicle,
stopping long enough to give a Bible or tract to each of the
policeman and soldiers.
Dave turned to the officials and nodded toward Len’s
airplane. “That plane has a mechanical problem that has to be
repaired before we can leave.”
He and Len leaned over the engine looking for the problem.
A truck came and picked up the soldiers, but three policemen
continued to watch the pilots’ every move.
“A bolt’s missing,” Len groaned. “It must have dropped
out.”
“If so, we’re in real trouble. The alternator is loose. We
have to have the bolt to hold it in place,” Dave said, squinting into
the cowling. “There it is!” he exclaimed. Using a magnet and
pliers, he finally retrieved it with great effort.
Challenge number two was inserting the bolt into the
proper hole with only enough space to accommodate two fingers.
Try after try, the bolt missed the hole and dropped inside the
engine compartment. Desperate, Dave pawed through the tool
box. “Maybe this lock washer will help,” he said, attempting to
insert the bolt through the washer, but the washer dropped and
disappeared below the engine.
Just then another policeman roared up in a truck and strode
to the plane. “I need your papers and I want both of you in my
office.”
“We’re fixing a mechanical problem,” Dave explained, “but
here are our papers.”
The officer drove off with them. Dave glanced at Len.
“It’ll be bad news if we don’t get those back. We’ll just have to
trust God.”
Another load of soldiers arrived in a cloud of dust. Dave
looked up. “The other group wasn’t armed,” he murmured.
The troop carrier came to a halt, and an officer marched
over to the airplane. Questions rolled from his lips. “Who are
you? Why are you here? Where did you come from?”
Dave and Len answered while continuing to work. Finally
the bolt dropped into the proper hole. Dave tightened it and
adjusted the alternator. As he finished, another policeman drove
in, handed the men’s papers to the army officer, and then stepped
back, scowling.
The officer handed Dave the papers. “Here, you may
leave.”
“Thanks,” Dave said.
Under unfriendly stares, he and Len boarded their planes
and quickly became airborne. The soldiers and police had thought
they were in control; Dave and Len knew otherwise.

47
Beyond Hunger
Tim Woodring couldn’t get his former student off his mind.
“Let’s go over to the Baptist seminary and visit Feliciano
and Urema,” he suggested to his wife, Linda.
Missionaries with UIM International in Guadalajara, Mexico, the
Woodrings had shown the Jesus film and ministered in other ways
with Feliciano and his family through Getsemani Baptist Church’s
mission program. While a student in the two-year Center for
Establishing and Developing Churches (CESI)) program, Feliciano
had pastored a little church in Ixtahuacan, a village of fifteen
hundred people. Each Sunday the Woodrings had transported
him and his family to the village about ninety minutes from
Guadalajara and helped him however they could. After graduation,
Feliciano continued that ministry.
As the Woodrings pulled up in front of Feliciano’s oneroom
cement-block house, Linda remarked, “Look, Tim. There’s
no glass in those window frames, and the only thing covering the
doorway is a curtain.”
Feliciano’s family welcomed them warmly. During the
visit, Linda noted other evidences of severe poverty. When they
were back in their SUV, she asked, “Tim, did you notice that they
have no food? Their shelves, those boards lying across cement
blocks, were empty. We should go buy them some food.”
Across the yard from Feliciano’s house stood an identical
house, where Adalberto, a new CESI and seminary student, and
his family lived. The two families shared a bathroom. “I’ll bet
Adalberto’s family doesn’t have any food either. They probably
need some, too,” Linda said.
The Woodrings were certain that God had prompted their
visit. They had had no idea that these families were in need. They
drove at once to the grocery store and purchased food for both
families.
Feliciano was overwhelmed when the Woodrings
reappeared at his door with bags of groceries. “An answer to
prayer!” he exclaimed, which brought the whole family running to
see what he meant. Seeing the food, they cried and hugged Tim
and Linda.
“The gift is from God,” Tim responded. “He just gave us
the privilege of delivering it.”
The Woodrings then walked across the yard to Adalberto’s
house. They had never visited him before or met his wife, Ester, or
their two little boys. Ester answered their knock. “I’m sorry,” she
said, “but Adalberto is at a meeting.”
“That’s okay. We just wanted to bring you some
groceries,” Tim replied, handing her several sacks.
“Porque? [Why?]” she asked with wrinkled brow. She
couldn’t imagine why total strangers would bring them food.
“We felt that God wanted us to help you, and we wanted
to welcome you to Guadalajara. We’re glad to have you in the
seminary and the CESI classes.”
Ester was wordless. Tears flowed as she hugged them both
tightly.
Adalberto and Ester gradually became involved in
Getsemani’s mission program. After he graduated, they moved to
Tequila, Jalisco, to plant a church and minister in the prison. Tim
and Linda visited them often and joined them for prayer walks and
home visitation. They helped to distribute tracts, show the Jesus
film and other Christian movies on the streets, and assist with
home Bible studies, medical clinics, and prison ministries. They
loved seeing growth in the Christians of that area.
Five years after their first visit to Adalberto’s home, the
Woodrings attended the special Father’s Day service in Tequila.
Each father took turns sitting in the middle of the room while his
wife and children told of ways he was special.
Eventually Ester turned to Tim. “Tim, it’s your turn. Come
on up.”
“My family members are in Canada and Virginia,” Tim
protested.
“We’re your family!” Ester insisted.
Reluctantly Tim took the designated seat. He was moved

and humbled as one person after another thanked him and Linda
for their godly impact upon their lives. In a real sense, they had
become a part of these brothers’ and sisters’ families.
When it was Ester’s turn, she said, “Tim, do you remember
when you first met me? You and Linda brought groceries to our
family. We had absolutely no money or food in the house and
had not eaten for three days. I had begged God to meet our need.
That very morning I had gone out on the streets to look for cans or
anything that would sell so we could buy food. Then here you two
came with big bags of groceries, a specific answer to my prayer.”
Adalberto nodded. “And you’ve been such an
encouragement in helping us to start this church.”
Both givers and receivers had been abundantly blessed.
48
Beyond Unworthy Feelings
Cheryl hung up the telephone. “Please, God, don’t let
them disconnect the respirator until I get there,” she
prayed, sobbing. Her sister, Alice, had been in a horrible
automobile accident and was not expected to live.
She and Alice had talked often by phone through the years,
even while Cheryl was a missionary with UIM International in
Mexico. In recent months, however, Alice had quit calling and had
not returned Cheryl’s calls. Cheryl was puzzled, concerned.
The middle child, Alice had always seemed to be a magnet
for trouble. Cheryl regretted their childhood quarrels, but they had
loved each other in spite of disagreements. Tenderhearted Alice
would do anything for anyone. As a young child, her habit of
changing clothes several times a day had so frustrated her mother
that her mother had yelled, “I wish you had never been born!”
Though Alice had never mentioned it, Cheryl was sure those words
had created a deep wound.
Cheryl’s mind raced as she packed for her trip to Georgia
to be with family. In their teens both Alice and her brother,
Sonny, had believed in Christ as their Savior after seeing a Billy
Graham film. Cheryl had become a Christian seven years earlier
at the age of twelve, but neither she nor her siblings had had any
encouragement to grow in Christ. Cheryl had turned to alcohol,
but after an auto accident at age twenty-two, she began to grow
spiritually under the mentorship of her pastor and his wife.
Alice had also begun using alcohol, and she and Sonny had
quit regular church attendance. In 1969 when Alice was twenty,
her pastor had approached her about her relationship with Christ
and, unsure of her salvation, she once again professed faith in Him.
Several times before going to Mexico as a missionary,
Cheryl had talked with each of her family members about a
relationship with Christ, and Alice had reaffirmed her trust. Later,
after marrying a physically and verbally abusive alcoholic, she

had begun frequent and frantic calls to Cheryl, often at one or two
o’clock in the morning. At times she became suicidal.
“God loves you, Alice,” Cheryl would assure her. “He
created you, and He doesn’t make junk. You are valuable to Him .
. . and to me.”
Alice always said she felt better whenever Cheryl
encouraged her with Scripture. “God is the One soothing your
heart,” Cheryl reminded her.
In the mid-1980s Alice had hungered for a closer
relationship with God and wanted her young son to know Him.
She began reading the Bible and attending church more often and
rejoiced when her son became a Christian. Sometimes she called
to ask Cheryl which verses she could share with a hospital patient
who was dying of cancer or suffering from another illness. She
wanted others to know the Savior.
Occasional bouts of drinking and other questionable
behavior caused some people to doubt Alice’s salvation, but Cheryl
believed that her faith in Christ was genuine. She had encouraged
Alice to get biblical counseling, but Alice had resisted opening her
soul to a stranger.
In 1994 Alice had been jubilant when her husband became
a Christian and began to become the husband she had always
wanted. Three months later he died of a heart attack, leaving her
devastated and depressed. She had called Cheryl. “I have a loaded
gun, and I’m going to blow my brains out.”
Prayerfully, calmly, Cheryl had replied, “Alice, your
feelings are telling you that that’s the answer, but you know that’s
not what God wants.”
Alice had hung up abruptly, and Cheryl had pled for God
to protect her. Fifteen minutes later the phone rang again; Alice’s
voice was noticeably changed. “I picked up my Bible and found
those verses in the Psalms that tell about God’s knowing our grief
and pain. I also read in Isaiah that we won’t drown when we go
through deep waters or get burned when we walk through fire,
because the LORD is with us. He will get us through.”
God had wonderfully intervened, but Alice had continued
to grieve deeply. Cheryl had counseled and encouraged her
frequently by phone, and in person when she returned to the States
a couple of years later.
With a good job at The Medical College of Georgia, Alice
could have afforded professional counseling, but she continued to
resist. Cheryl had asked God to surround her with Christians and,
before long, learned that all of Alice’s coworkers were Christians.
Nevertheless, Alice had seemed unable to overcome feelings of
being unworthy of God’s acceptance.
Now Alice lay in the hospital near death. Cheryl was so
grateful that she had visited her two months earlier. If only she
could be with her this very moment.
Cheryl landed in Georgia on Sunday and went straight to
the hospital. Alice was unconscious, breathing with the help of a
respirator. When Cheryl stepped to her bedside and softly called
her name, a tear slipped down Alice’s cheek. Cheryl felt sure that
Alice knew she was there. She took her Bible from her purse,
read some Scripture aloud, and then talked to and prayed aloud for
Alice.
On Tuesday Alice’s organs began to shut down, and she
became totally dependent on the respirator. The family agreed to
have it disconnected, and she died shortly thereafter.
Cheryl learned that Alice had begun dating an old school
friend, a hard-core alcoholic, near the end of the previous year.
Embarrassment about that relationship likely had caused her to quit
calling Cheryl or returning Cheryl’s calls. She and her boyfriend
had been celebrating her birthday when the tragic accident had
occurred.
Back home after the funeral, Cheryl begged, “Please, God,
give me assurance that Alice is safe with You.” Once again she
fingered through the Bible she had given Alice nearly thirty years
earlier, noting underlined verses. She found a letter containing
Bible verses that she had sent Alice to encourage her in difficult
times, and tucked away in the middle of Ephesians was a note.
Slowly she unfolded it and read, “In the summer of 1969, I asked
Jesus to come into my heart and He did! Thank You, Lord Jesus,
for saving my soul, for forgiving all my sins, and that one day I’ll
be with You in Heaven. I love You, Lord Jesus, and I truly want to

please You by everything I do and say and think the rest of my life.
Alice Chilton.”
Tears flowed, but Cheryl was comforted. Alice had placed
her faith in Christ as her Savior and had been born again; she could
never be unborn. Cheryl would see her in Heaven.
49
Beyond Broken Relationships
(Some names fictitious)
Eight-year-old Helen Fang’s first visit with her new friend to
the Sunday school at Albuquerque, New Mexico’s Chinese
Baptist Church was her last. Her father, who had just
moved his family from Inner Mongolia, was opposed to Christian
teaching. Amazingly, though, he let Helen participate in the Good
News Club at the public school taught by church members Ralph
and Linda Dawson. He also allowed her to study Mailbox Club
Bible lessons with retired UIM International missionary Thurley
McAdams. When she was twelve, he gave her permission to
attend the Dawsons’ two-week vacation Bible school (VBS) class.
One day after taking Helen home from VBS, Linda asked if
she had ever believed in Jesus. “No,” Helen replied.
“Would you like to?”
“Yes.”
Linda reached for her Bible and shared Scriptures about
God’s love and Jesus’ sacrificial death to pay for people’s sin. She
told about Jesus’ resurrection and God’s forgiveness for those who
believe what Jesus did. Then she asked if Helen would like to talk
with God about her sin and tell Him she was trusting in Jesus.
Helen nodded and bowed her head. When she finished
admitting her sin and thanking God for sending Jesus to pay for
it, her face beamed. “This is the happiest day of my life!” she
exclaimed.
Helen graduated from high school and attended Cornell
University. After failing two years, she enrolled at the University
of New Mexico (UNM) and lived at home. Her father was not
happy about these developments, and the two of them engaged in
frequent heated interactions. Three years into that difficult time, he
moved to Phoenix, Arizona.
Helen’s mother, Darlene, thought surely things would

improve, but they didn’t. Helen knew God’s Word well but turned
against it and against God. Obsessive hatred for her father burned
within her, and she insisted that her mother divorce him.
The situation became so intense that Darlene was on the
verge of emotional collapse. She had had weekly Bible lessons
with Linda throughout Helen’s middle and high school years and
knew the way of salvation, but she had never trusted Christ. One
day, deeply distressed, she dropped to her knees in the kitchen and
told Jesus that she trusted Him as her Savior and that her life was
His. A few weeks later she told Linda about her decision.
Following her graduation from UNM with a bachelor’s
degree, Helen attended the University of California in San
Diego for a short time and then switched to Carnegie Mellon in
Pittsburgh. She didn’t tell her family in case she failed. Her every
attitude and action continued to be driven by hatred for her father.
Financially she depended on her mother, who provided whatever
funds she requested and ran to her side every time her stress level
skyrocketed.
Finally, Helen graduated with a Masters degree in
Computer Science and landed a well-paying job with a big Los
Angeles company. She soon established an unhealthy relationship
with Amanda, one of the company’s summer interns. After
Amanda returned to New York, Helen paid her way back to L.A.
for visits.
Deeply disapproving of the relationship, Darlene
confronted Amanda, which angered both Amanda and Helen. One
day Amanda called Darlene and screamed, “Get out of Helen’s
life!”
Darlene was shocked, angry. How could Helen have a
relationship like this and turn against her own mother after she’d
paid many of her bills and visited her in her times of stress?
Distraught, Darlene called Linda. “I thought things would improve
once Helen got her master’s degree and a job, but they haven’t.
Amanda is an evil influence.”
“True,” Linda agreed, “but fighting with her on the phone
won’t help. Anger only makes things worse. God alone can
dissolve that relationship, and we need to pray for them.”
Later, in Phoenix for a meeting, the Dawsons took Mr.
Fang out to dinner. They learned that he had lost his job and that
he and Helen were still not on speaking terms. However, his and
Darlene’s mutual disgust over their daughter’s relationship had
served to renew communication between them. Toward the end
of the evening, Ralph again shared the Gospel with him, as he had
done several times previously.
Not long afterward, Mr. Fang returned to Albuquerque.
Darlene called to tell Linda that he was back. “He told me about
your and Ralph’s visit, and he was greatly touched by your care
and prayers. He’s different now, and we’re praying together. He
and Helen even talk to each other on the phone.
“Great!” Linda replied.
“Your visit was the turning point in his attitude towards
the Bible and prayer. We’re going to start coming to the English
Fellowship at the Chinese Baptist Church. I can’t change anybody,
but God can.”
Linda marveled at the change God had brought in Darlene’s
life and prayed that she would grow in her ability to focus on the
Lord and leave her husband and daughter in His hands. She and
Ralph were confident that God had brought the Fang family all the
way from Inner Mongolia to hear the Gospel. They rejoiced at the
Holy Spirit’s work and asked Him to bring Helen and her father
into a vital relationship with Christ and unite the family in His
love. They were confident that God was “able to do exceedingly
abundantly” above all they could ask or think, and they looked
expectantly to Him.

50
Beyond Repulsion
She boarded the plane and sauntered toward my aisle seat in
Row 5. The red paper flower nestled in her jet-black hair
matched her spiked heels. A suggestive black satin dress
and black leather jacket completed her attire. She plopped into
the window seat beside me, fastened her seatbelt, and pulled out a
lewd-looking book with a repugnant title.
Repulsed by, yet strangely drawn to, this young woman, I
greeted her with a friendly smile. I was on my way to Wyoming to
represent UIM International at Frontier School of the Bible. Was
she God’s answer to my prayer for Him to use me however He
chose on this trip?
The door of the airplane slammed shut. “We have quite a
few empty seats,” the stewardess announced. “Feel free to move.”
“Would you like to sit by yourself?” I asked the young
woman, hoping she might prefer that. It didn’t matter to her one
way or the other.
After everyone had settled, the two seats across the aisle in
Row 4 remained empty. Gathering my things, I suppressed pangs
of conscience and moved. I had barely settled into the seat when
the drone of the stewardess’ memorized lines alerted me—Row 4
was an exit row. No exit row responsibilities for me. I promptly
returned to my seat in Row 5, convinced that that was my Godassigned
seat.
The short flight from Flagstaff to Phoenix, Arizona, went
smoothly. My seatmate read her book and I caught up on a
WORLD magazine. Wondering what God had in mind, I retrieved
a tract from my purse and stuffed it into my pocket in case He
opened a door for its use. At the stewardess’ request to prepare
for landing, my seatmate closed her book and I put my magazine
away. This was my chance. No brilliant opening entered my
mind. I might as well jump in with both feet.
I pulled out the tract and turned to my seatmate with a
smile. “I thought you might be interested in this brochure,” I
began. “I’m a Christian and this contains information that is very
special to me.” She looked on as I flipped through the tract. I told
her in my own words about the bad news, that all of us are sinners,
and that the bad news gets worse, the penalty for that sin is death.
Then I flipped to the good news about Jesus Christ’s payment of
that penalty for us and the forgiveness of our sin if we trust in Him.
“If you’d like, you may take this and read it on your own
sometime,” I said cheerfully, uncertain of her reception. Silently
she reached for the tract and dropped it into her book.
As we stood to get off the airplane, she seemed anxious.
“I’m going to Houston for a surprise 30 th birthday party for a
friend,” she said. “This is the first time I’ve traveled alone. How
do I know where to go for my next flight?”
“Are you continuing on U. S. Airways?”
“Yes.”
“It should be fairly close then. The U. S. Airways terminal
isn’t very big. I’ll help you.”
Inside the terminal, I located and quickly scanned the
departure screens. “Your flight is at Gate A12; I depart from A30.”
Then I spotted the sign: “To all A gates.” “We both need to go
up there,” I said, pointing up the concourse. “We can walk there
together.”
“I’d . . . I’d like to get a cup of coffee before I go to the
gate,” she replied.
“Well,” I looked around, “it looks as though coffee might
be back that way. I hope you have a safe trip and enjoy the party
with your friends.”
The young lady extended her hand. “What is your name?”
she asked.
“Juanita. What’s yours?”
“Becka.”
She hesitated, as though she wanted to hug me. I opened
my arms wide and we embraced. She turned and headed down the
concourse for coffee. I began the trek to Gate A30, reliving the
events and emotions of the past hour and a quarter and marveling
at God’s unfathomable ways. I might well see Becka again in

eternity. “Lord, please bring her to Yourself.” 51
Beyond Chocolate Pie
Chocolate cream pie was not on Rhonda Peters’ strict allergy
diet, but she was at a family reunion. How could she not
succumb to her aunts’ request that she eat the last piece?
As Rhonda savored the rich chocolaty flavor and creamy texture,
Gordon, a teenage relative whom she had not met before this
reunion, sat down beside her. “Where did you get that?” he asked,
staring at the luscious-looking treat.
With pangs of guilt, Rhonda replied, “My aunts gave it to
me. It’s the last piece of your grandma’s pie. Would you like a
bite?”
“Oh, no,” he replied politely.
Rhonda apologized. “Sorry I took the last piece.
“Have you ever been to a holy roller church?” Gordon
asked abruptly.
Rhonda, a missionary with Northern Canada Evangelical
Mission, could have said “No” and avoided the topic, but the Holy
Spirit prompted her to pursue the conversation. Ignoring aunts and
uncles who were milling around, she asked, “What’s a holy roller
church?”
“My family and I went to one once. Some of the people
danced around and some lay down and went to sleep in the aisles.
It was ‘freaky.’ We left. One of my relatives walked out without
his jacket, but there was no way he was going to go back for it.”
“I’ve never been to a church like that. You know, Jesus
doesn’t like religion, but He does want to be your Friend and
Savior.”
“You can know Jesus? How?” Gordon seemed surprised.
Rhonda told Gordon how Jesus, the sinless Son of God,
came to earth to suffer the death penalty for everyone’s sin and
then arose from the grave. “When we trust in the sacrifice He
made for us, He forgives our sin and gives us life forever with
God, even after our bodies die.”

Rhonda felt inadequate to explain that vital Truth, and
having people interrupt made things more difficult. They had no
idea of the seriousness of her conversation with Gordon. It finally
dawned on her that the interruptions were satanically instigated.
Gordon suddenly changed the subject again. “My parents
were separated seven times,” he said. His tone was subdued; his
eyes reflected pain. “Nobody cares what happens to me, not even
my own brothers.”
Rhonda’s heart ached. She laid her hand on his. “I’m
sorry,” she said. “You know, Jesus’ brothers and a close friend
rejected Him, too. And, even though he was totally innocent of
any wrong, He was sentenced to death and nailed to a cross, for
our sin. He knows what it’s like to be mistreated. He loves you
and can help you through painful times. He wants to be your best
Friend.”
“I’ll ask Him tonight to be my best Friend,” Gordon
responded.
“You do that.” Rhonda believed he was sincere. She
wanted to ask him to pray right then and there, but she didn’t
want him to do it for her sake. “Get a Bible and read it,” she said.
“When you make your decision to trust and follow Christ, be sure
to tell your grandma.”
Rhonda was so excited. She had at least planted the Seed.
That was far better than any chocolate pie. She sought out her
mom and told her about the conversation.
Her mom nodded. “I noticed what was happening and did
my best to distract anyone I thought might not let the conversation
continue.”
Rhonda began praying for Gordon and decided to send
him a Bible. She picked out one designed especially for teens and
wrote a letter to go with it. She intended to mail them before she,
Phil, and the children left for the weekend to visit family, but she
failed to do so. She took them with her, planning to mail them
Monday morning before starting the next leg of their journey.
Monday morning Rhonda remembered that it was a holiday
and, most likely, the post office would be closed. If only she’d
sent the Bible before they left for vacation. She had wanted it to
be a prompt follow-up to her verbal witness. “Phil,” she urged,
“pray with me that God will work out something if He wants me to
send the Bible today.” The two of them immediately stopped what
they were doing and prayed.
“We need to get gas before we begin the next five-hour
stretch,” Phil commented. They packed the van and headed to the
nearest gas station. As they pulled up to the pump, Phil nodded
toward the convenience store. “Honey, there’s a post office sign
over there.”
“At a gas station? Probably not open today,” Rhonda
said. Nevertheless, she grabbed Gordon’s Bible and went in. Sure
enough, there was a post office, and, for whatever reason, it was
open. Gordon’s Bible was on its way.
If God put a post office at a gas station and had it open
on a holiday, Rhonda reasoned, He would do an amazing work in
Gordon’s life. That piece of forbidden chocolate pie might lead to
Living Bread for a needy young man.

52
Beyond Turbulent Winds
The journey from Durango, Mexico, to the isolated village of
El Valle was rigorous but well worth it. The Kevin Beach
family welcomed every opportunity to build relationships
with the Tepehuan people. They piled into their F-250 crew cab
for the ten-hour drive. Each month for the past five years they had
visited the village, learning the language and culture and praying
for permission to live there.
In a couple of days the Beaches’ New Tribes Mission
(NTM) partners, the Steve Tibbert family, planned to join
the Beaches for three days. Both families were eager for the
Tepehuans to know God and His creative and redemptive power
and hoped to translate His Word into the Tepehuan language.
Based on the tribe’s fears and taboos related to stars, the
missionaries were well aware that teaching them the Creation story
would be an immense challenge.
On Monday morning UIM International (UIM) pilot Joe
Swanson flew the Tibbert family to El Valle. As he approached
the less-than-1200-foot El Valle airstrip, he prepared for its unique
demand of landing in one direction only, regardless of wind
direction. Once landed, the aircraft required full power to reach
the top of the eight percent slope. The family left the airplane and
he returned to Durango.
Thursday morning Joe was up early again and flew to El
Valle for the Tibberts before mid-morning winds picked up. By
noon he was safely home.
A mere two hours later, Kevin Beach called: could Joe
make an emergency flight back to the village? A ten-year-old boy,
helping to fight a ridge fire, had fallen down a 600-foot ravine. A
thirteen-hour truck ride would jeopardize his chances of survival.
Joe requested a few more details and then called Jerry,
his fellow missionary who usually drove him to the airport. He
explained the situation and Kevin’s request.
Immediately Jerry thought of the frequent turbulent
afternoon winds, which often prevented take-offs and landings. “I
may not be able to land when I get there,” Joe continued, “but I’ve
got to try. We’ll just have to pray and trust for the best.”
Jerry took Joe to the airport and helped to prepare for the
emergency flight. By 3:30 p.m. Joe was wheels up and headed into
turbulence at maximum cruising power. He fought wind the whole
way. As he descended through the canyon and circled El Valle, he
saw the raging fire. The tailwind was manageable, and with God’s
help he set the Cessna down at 6200’ and ascended the airstrip.
Within minutes the tailwind began gusting to twenty knots, a speed
that would have prevented landing had it occurred five minutes
earlier.
Grateful for a safe landing, Joe exited the plane and waited.
Smoky haze covered the mountains. Forty-five minutes later
several men in cowboy hats and sandals appeared at the far end
of the airstrip carrying ten-year-old Bernardino on a makeshift
stretcher. His skull was deeply dented, his hair matted with blood.
One leg was broken and bleeding. They immobilized his neck and
placed him in the airplane. Frightened brown eyes peered from
under his head wrappings.
Joe strapped the stretcher to the floor and buckled in
Bernardino’s parents and younger brother, and then he surveyed
his checklist and taxied into the twenty-knot headwind. He
called Jerry to let him know they were on their way and headed
northward, racing against time.
The normal thirty-five-minute flight took less than twenty
minutes. Nearing the airport, Joe radioed the tower and requested
an ambulance. Jerry and his language helper pulled up just as Joe
landed, and the ambulance arrived immediately after Jerry opened
the plane doors.
Bernardino was conscious and responsive, but a long
recovery awaited him. The Tibberts visited the family frequently,
providing food and bandages. Many people prayed that all the
demonstrations of love would open the hearts of the Tepehuans to
the missionaries and to the Savior.
Later that year Bernardino was discharged from the

hospital in a half-body cast. He and his family stayed in Durango
with his married sister while he received physical therapy. Local
churches and several missionaries provided the family with rice,
beans, tortillas, and clothing.
At the end of six months Bernardino’s parents returned to
the village. When Bernardino was medically released, the Tibberts
accompanied him back to El Valle. He still limped but could walk
without crutches. Eventually he was able to work in the fields with
his father.
Then things began to take a negative turn for the
missionaries. Because of past oppression and abuse, the tribal
people had been suspicious of outsiders and protective of their
land. Now the drug-dealing tribal leader threatened to harm
the Tibbert and Beach children if the families didn’t leave.
Missionaries were no longer allowed in the village, and non-
Tepehuans could not live there without an invitation. Villagers
who had been positively impacted by the missionaries did not want
them to leave, but they, like the missionaries, feared the drug lord’s
threat.
God’s people continued to pray that the Christ-like love
lavished on Bernardino’s family would be used by God to draw El
Valle’s inhabitants to Christ. Bernardino’s accident had opened a
window into the village. His family and many others had heard of
Jesus and seen His love in action. The Holy Spirit could yet work
a miracle.
53
Beyond a Landslide
Two ex-patriot missionaries with Far East Broadcasting
Company urged their motorcycles up the winding mountain
road in northern Laos. Through occasional openings in the
dense emerald forest, they enjoyed the breath-taking vistas below.
Sixty kilometers into their delightful journey, they came
upon a jumbled mass of dirt and tree branches across the road.
To one side sat a white Isuzu, pushed off by a landslide. Several
Laotians were surveying the situation and discussing the damage.
Aware of resistance to the Gospel in that area, the
foreigners began asking God for opportunities to share Christ.
As they helped to clear the road, they heard two Hmong men
discussing radio broadcasts in their language. The men were
puzzled by things they had heard.
Finally one of the men turned to the foreigners. “Do you
know anything about a man called Jesus? We heard people talk
about him on the radio and sent some people from our village to
the capital to see if what we heard is true.”
“What did the people on the radio say about Him?” one of
the foreigners asked.
“That he’s God but that he came to earth as a man to die
and pay for the bad things we think and do.”
“That’s true,” the foreigners affirmed. “Jesus is God, and
He did come to earth as a Man to show us the way to God the
Father. God is holy; neither God the Father nor Jesus His Son
ever think or do bad things like we do. We deserve to die for our
badness, but because God loves us so much, He sent Jesus to earth
to take our punishment, to die in our place. Three days later He
came back to life. Some day everyone who believes in Him and
what He did for them will be with Him forever.”
“That’s what they said on the Far East Broadcasting
programs,” the men exclaimed.
“We’re the ones you heard,” the foreigners revealed.

Tears trickled down the men’s faces. A landslide had
brought them into direct contact with the very ones who could
answer their pressing question.
54
Beyond Animosity
It was late afternoon when Leonardo heard someone call.
Opening the door, he found two officials from his village of
Lachao Viejo in the state of Oaxaca, Mexico. Their faces were
strained with worry. “May I help you?” Leonardo asked.
“Francisco was in a hunting accident, and he’s badly
injured. He needs to go to the hospital,” one of them said.
Francisco was the village president.
As Christians, Leonardo and his wife had graciously
allowed UIM International missionaries Tom and Beth Munnerlyn
to live in their upstairs apartment. The Munnerlyns were adapting
the newly translated Lowland Chatino New Testament into Lachao
Viejo’s Highland Chatino dialect.
Upstairs, Tom and his family and Leonardo’s family were
celebrating Tom’s birthday. Tom overheard the official’s request
and called, “I’ll be down in a minute.” His Dodge Ramcharger
SUV was one of the few vehicles in the village. He told his family
and guests what had happened and that he needed to take Francisco
to the hospital. Having been warmly welcomed by many of the
villagers, the Munnerlyns were unaware that Francisco and a few
others were unhappy with their presence and had vowed to force
them out of the village.
Tom collected a few things and went downstairs to assist
the men in loading Francisco into his SUV. Francisco was
strapped to a homemade stretcher. Could he withstand the rugged
eight-hour mountain journey to Oaxaca City? He seemed alert and
didn’t appear to be bleeding much, but he had multiple gunshot
wounds.
Driving safely but quickly over the precipitous road
would be difficult. Tom prayed for God’s help as he put the SUV
into gear. Town officials held Francisco’s stretcher steady and
Leonardo kept Tom apprised of his condition.
Tom negotiated the rugged, winding road with greater

speed than usual, carefully watching for vehicles, especially
buses. About half way to the city, he stopped at a little village that
had a telephone and tried to call Dave Nellis, his brother-in-law
and fellow missionary, to ask him to notify the hospital. Dave
didn’t answer, so he called Dan, Dave’s brother-in-law, another
missionary. “Dan, would you please alert the government hospital
that we’re bringing in a man who was shot multiple times in a
hunting accident?”
“Will do,” Dan replied, “and I’ll be praying for your
safety.”
As soon as the makeshift “ambulance” arrived at the
emergency room (in three and one-half hours instead of the usual
eight), Francisco was rushed into surgery. Since it was late and
there was no place to wait, Tom invited the men to his and Beth’s
house in town.
The next day they returned to the hospital and found
Francisco ready for release. “He’s temporarily paralyzed from his
waist down and needs complete bed rest, but he should recover
completely,” the doctor said. The men began the trip back to
Lachao Viejo, encouraged that Francisco would likely recover
fully.
Unfortunately, Francisco remained a paraplegic, but
the church body took care of his personal needs. His uncle,
Frumencio, the pastor of the little church, and other church
members visited him often. Francisco asked all of them many
questions about life, the Bible, and the church and listened
carefully to their answers. His animosity toward the Munnerlyns
gradually disappeared. “They’re different from other foreigners I
know,” he commented to his friends. “I wonder what makes them
different.”
The more Francisco learned about the Bible and the more
he observed the lives of the Chatino Christians, the more he saw
the difference that Jesus Christ makes. Within a year, he and his
family turned to Christ. He was grateful that his Christian brothers
helped him to church in his wheelchair and taught him how to read
Chatino. He became involved in the church, and at the dedication
service for the Highland Chatino New Testament, he expressed
gratitude to the Munnerlyns and others who had worked so hard to
put it into his dialect. God’s Word had transformed his life.

55
Beyond the Known Story
Dale Beverly rushed to the window. “That sounded like
metal against metal!” he exclaimed to his wife, SuZann.
“I heard a vehicle, but I don’t see anything.”
He returned to the dining table of their Kenyan home to continue
morning teatime, Bible reading, and prayer with his wife and two
young sons.
They were soon interrupted by a knock. Dale opened the
door to find two Italian men. “Hello,” the younger man greeted.
“My name is Christian and this is my father, Claudio.”
“Come in,” Dale invited. “Join us for a cup of tea. How
can we help you?”
The men were on a trip from Italy to South Africa for
pleasure as well as to participate in Kiwanis International’s search
for people needing better access to water. They had covered more
than 3,000 miles and had another couple thousand to go, but the
universal joint on their big Iveco camping truck had just broken.
The Beverlys, missionaries with Africa Inland Mission,
lived in Kurungu, a valley community of about 650 people. Their
home was a short distance from the main road, better known as a
dirt track. It wasn’t unusual for tourists going to and from Nairobi,
about 350 miles away, to stop by.
After tea the men took Dale’s Land Rover to tow the truck
to the Beverlys’ home. Dale tried, unsuccessfully, to repair it with
parts from his Ford pickup. “Let’s go have lunch,” he invited.
Over lunch Dale had opportunity to share the Gospel. The
three men also talked about how best to proceed with the vehicle
problem. It was obvious that Christian would have to go to
Nairobi for parts. “Let’s pray about it,” Dale said. “We’ll ask God
to give you a safe trip and help you find the part you need.”
Afterward, Christian pushed back from the table. “Could
my father set up camp at your place while I’m gone?” he asked.
“Sure,” Dale responded, anticipating interesting days
ahead, since Claudio, a university professor, spoke no English.
“How do I get to Nairobi?” Christian asked.
“There are no busses or taxis in these parts,” Dale replied.
“We’ll just have to walk out to the main road and wait until
someone comes by and can give you a ride. Tourist vehicles come
now and then. Sometimes they even stop at our house. I know
some of the drivers; in fact, I once repaired one of their vehicles.”
Christian collected a few things from his truck and the three
men walked the short distance to the main road. In about a half
hour a tourist vehicle with six or seven people pulled up. “Do you
have room for one more?” Dale asked the driver.
“Yes, we have one vacant seat.”
While Christian was gone, Claudio stayed in the truck
but ate meals with the Beverlys. He enjoyed reading and
accompanying Dale various places. Communication via gestures
and body language usually sufficed, but occasionally they visited
the Catholic mission about five miles away to get the assistance
of a nurse who knew English. She translated information Claudio
wanted to know about the area and about Dale’s work. She tried
to help him get a message to Christian, but that failed, since they
didn’t know exactly where Christian was.
After nine days, Christian still had not returned. Dale was
concerned, which caused Claudio to be concerned. “Let’s go look
for him,” Dale suggested. They stopped by the Catholic mission
for assistance in discussing the trip.
The 25-mile drive over rough road to the nearest town
would take about two and a half hours. A few miles down
the dusty road, Dale spotted someone walking in the distance.
Bandits often took advantage of lonely travelers, so he got out
his binoculars to look. It was a white man, Christian perhaps?
Claudio looked and confirmed that it was Christian carrying the
universal joint. When they got close enough, Claudio jumped out
and embraced his son.
Christian told them that he had caught a ride from Nairobi
to the little town to which Dale and Claudio were headed and
waited there two days for a ride. When none came, he started on
foot the twenty-five miles to the Beverlys.

Dale got out his welding equipment and helped to repair the
truck. Eager to get on their way, Christian and Claudio planned to
leave the next morning.
After breakfast Christian wanted to pay for some satellite
phone calls he had made. As the three men headed to the living
room, Dale stopped by his office to pick up an English NIV Study
Bible that a friend had given him to give away.
Once the debt was settled, Christian stood and extended
his hand. “Mr. Beverly, thanks so much. You’ve helped us a great
deal. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Yes,” Dale answered, picking up the Bible. “A friend of
mine wanted me to find homes for several of these. I’d like for
you to have one.” He opened it and showed Christian the Gospel
of John. “Be sure to read this book.”
Christian laughed and turned to his father, rattling off
something in Italian. His father also laughed. Seeing Dale’s
puzzled look, Christian explained. “A week ago while we were
traveling I told Dad I wished I had an English Bible. He asked
me where in the world I thought I could find one in the middle of
nowhere.”
Now it was Dale’s turn to laugh. He was keenly aware that
God had masterminded this whole scenario. He wrote Christian’s
name in the Bible and handed it to him. “You should have lots of
time to read on your trip to South Africa and back.”
“Thanks so much. I really appreciate it, and I won’t stop
with the Book of John; I’ll read it all.”
A couple of months later Dale received a note from
Christian saying that he and his dad had arrived safely in South
Africa. He didn’t mention the Bible. Had he read it? What did he
think of it? If only Dale had a way to contact him. He decided to
type “Dale Beverly” and the word “Kurungu” into his computer
to see what would come up. Up came an advertisement of a
book that Christian and his dad had written, in Italian, of course.
Scanning the one translatable page, Dale saw his own name.
Discovering Christian’s e-mail address, he sent him a note.
Christian responded, wondering how Dale had located him,
and promised to send him a copy of the book.
Dale wrote again, asking Christian what he thought of the
Bible. Years have passed and Dale has heard nothing. Though
disappointed, he is certain that neither the vehicle problem, the
opportunity to share the Gospel, Christian’s wish for a Bible, nor
the provision of a Bible were mere coincidences. God’s Word
reached the ears and eyes of a young Italian and will accomplish
what He sent it to do. The “rest of the story” is up to Him.

56
Beyond Self
Daniel Koster awoke. It was 2:00 a.m. Geneva, his First
Nations bride, who had grown up on a reserve near
Houston, British Columbia (B.C.), lay asleep beside him
in their truck. The Kosters, a young missionary couple serving
at Rock Nest Ranch, UIM International’s Bible camp for First
Nations youth, had been married only a few months. They were
returning to the camp from a visit to Michigan, Daniel’s home area
from where they received much of their missionary support. While
in the States, they had travelled to Disney for their honeymoon
and then back to Michigan to pick up the rest of Daniel’s personal
belongings to complete his move to Canada.
It was the end of October when they began the 48-hour
drive from Michigan. Crossing into Canada from the U.S., they
had encountered light snow in the mountains. At midnight,
exhausted from driving through the mountains all day and part of
the night, they stopped in the town of McBride for a short nap.
They chose to sleep in their Chevrolet Silverado extended cab
pickup truck instead of paying for a hotel.
Now awake, Daniel was eager to get back to Houston, still
eight hours away. The night was clear and the road appeared dry
and ice-free. Before long, however, a light snow began to fall. As
Daniel headed into a straight stretch, he felt the back of the truck
slip ever so slightly. Ice! Fear gripped him. He took his foot off
the gas pedal, shifted into four-wheel drive, and stretched his arm
protectively across Geneva, still asleep. That was the last thing he
remembered.
Geneva awoke to find Daniel’s arm around her. She
could see only the night sky and the dash board. The truck turned
sharply and gravity seemed altered. She felt herself pulled this
way and that, and objects from the back seat flew over her head.
There was a deafening bang and the truck landed, forcefully
thrusting both of them into the seat. Total darkness and silence
ensued.
Pinned beneath debris from the back seat and in great pain,
Geneva stared up at the smashed windshield, unable to move. She
called to Daniel. He was only inches away, but he wasn’t moving
nor could she see him. “Daniel!” she called again, her voice filled
with fear.
Daniel also had been staring at the smashed windshield,
feeling lost and confused. Geneva’s scream brought him back to
reality. He reached for her hand and enclosed her fingers in his.
“Oh, Daniel,” she cried. “I thought you had died!” She
kept bracing herself, trying to keep from sliding under the steering
wheel. “I hurt so bad; I can’t move.”
“Stay still. I’ll help you,” Daniel said, unbuckling his seat
belt. He discovered that the truck lay at a 45-degree angle on
its left side in a ditch. Dirt obstructed the driver’s window. The
passenger’s window was smashed out and the door was buckled
and slightly ajar. The roof on the passenger’s side was so crushed
that there was little space for escape, but the passenger window
was Daniel’s only option out. With difficulty he moved the cases
of soda pop and other items that had slammed forward, pinning his
feet to the floor. Then, with great effort, he crawled over Geneva
and exited into the frigid air.
Hearing a shout, he looked up. Two men stood on the
highway more than forty feet above him. “Are you okay?” one of
them called.
“I am,” Daniel yelled, “but my wife is badly hurt. She
needs an ambulance.” He saw the men trying to flag down a
vehicle. Shivering in only jeans and a thin T-shirt, he crawled back
into the truck.
“Dan, my back hurts,” Geneva said in tears. “I can’t move
my foot, and I keep sliding under the steering wheel.”
Daniel knew he shouldn’t move her if her neck or back
were broken, but he had no idea what to do. He held her head still
and attempted to keep her from sliding, agonizingly aware that
their lives were changing forever. He had never questioned God’s
love, and he deeply loved Him, although he knew that his actions

had not always demonstrated that. He kept asking himself why
God had allowed this.
One of the men from the highway appeared at the window
and handed him a blanket for Geneva. “We saw you go off the
road, and then we hit black ice and rolled off the other side. Help’s
on the way. How’s your wife?”
“I don’t know,” Daniel replied, covering Geneva. “She
can’t move.” Flashing lights on the highway signaled the arrival
of the police and paramedics. He watched the paramedics traverse
the steep hill, grateful for their anticipated help.
The man who had brought the blanket walked away.
Daniel got out of the truck to allow the medics access to Geneva.
He discovered the stranger and his buddy sitting beside the truck in
his and Geneva’s fold-out chairs that had been so carefully packed
into the back of the truck. One of them offered him a smoke,
which he politely declined.
The Kosters’ earthly possessions were scattered in the dirt
and snow. Spying his camera, Daniel took a few pictures in case
they might need them later.
When a husband/wife paramedic team arrived, the wife
crawled through the window into the truck to brace Geneva’s neck;
the husband stopped to ask Daniel what had happened.
“I don’t know,” Daniel replied, which alerted the
paramedic to check for a concussion. “I’m fine, really,” Daniel
said, ignoring the pain in his ankle. “Just help my wife.” He
followed the paramedic to the truck.
“We need to get this door off so we can move the lady,” the
female paramedic said.
“I have a bolt cutter in my car,” one of the bystanders
announced and started up the steep embankment to get it.
Daniel felt helpless. He desperately wanted to assist.
“Maybe we can pry the door open with my new axe,” he suggested.
He found it and began prying. By the time the man returned with
the bolt cutter, the door’s locking mechanism was visible.
“You fellows really don’t need to be doing this,” the male
paramedic said. “The fire department is on its way.”
“I need to help,” Daniel said. “What else am I going to
do?” They cut the lock and opened the bent door. Then, numb
from the cold and losing feeling in his feet, Daniel asked if it
would be alright for him to go up and sit in the ambulance.
“Sure, go ahead. We’ll take care of your wife,” the male
paramedic assured him.
“And we’ll stay until she is safely out,” promised the man
who had cut the lock.
The fire truck arrived while Daniel was climbing the
embankment. When he reached the top, a police officer asked for
his driver’s license. “What did you hit?” the policeman asked.
“We didn’t hit anything,” Daniel replied. “The back end
of the truck slipped on ice, and we slid off the highway. Those
two men down there said they watched us and then hit black ice
themselves and slid off the other side.”
“Yeah, I offered them a ride to town,” the officer
commented, “but they didn’t want to leave until your wife was out
safely.”
Such concern from strangers! Daniel thought. He climbed
into the ambulance, grateful for warmth. In shocked silence he
rubbed his wet, numb feet, pondering what the future might hold.
For three weeks he had been obsessed with his truck: getting
perfect tires, upgrading this, improving that. He had asked God
to change his heart and help him to focus on Him instead of on
things. God certainly seemed to be answering.
“Thank You, Lord, for taking that stupid truck,” he said
aloud, “and thank You for taking care of me and keeping Geneva
alive. I don’t know why this happened, but I trust You and know
that it’s for our good. Your Word says that all things work together
for good for those who love You and are the called according to
Your purpose.”
Feeling gradually returned to Daniel’s feet. When the
ambulance driver arrived and opened the back doors, Daniel could
see the rescue workers carrying Geneva on a stretcher up the steep
embankment. She was wrapped in blankets and strapped down
securely. As they put her into the ambulance, she gazed up, tearyeyed.
“It’s going to be okay, isn’t it?”
“Yes, God’s in control,” Daniel assured her. “It will be

hard, but He has a plan.” As the ambulance headed the 20 minutes
to the small McBride hospital, he thanked God for Geneva’s full
medical coverage.
Geneva couldn’t move anything without help, and her pain
was excruciating. While she was being X-rayed, Daniel paced the
halls of the antiquated hospital. Later, back in the examination
room, the staff assured them that Geneva was just very bruised and
sore. They moved her to a hospital bed and waited for the pain to
subside. A couple of hours later the pain still had not subsided. At
8:00 a.m. a hospital worker brought in a wheelchair and crutches.
“You need to leave,” the head nurse said kindly.
Daniel looked at him questioningly. “Where do we go and
how do we get there?”
“The Sandman Hotel is just down the road. You can take
my car,” he said, handing Daniel the keys. “It’s the gray wagon
out back.”
He’s giving me the keys to his car? “You know I was just
in a car wreck, right?” Daniel asked.
“It’s alright. Just bring the car back,” he replied, patting
Daniel’s shoulder. “I’m sorry we have to ask you to leave, but
we need the bed.” People from another ice-related accident were
being admitted.
“Thanks much,” Daniel responded, amazed at the nurse’s
generosity. He helped Geneva to a sitting position, thankful for
a strong body. With great effort she stood on her left foot, but a
torn ligament prevented the use of her right foot. Nor would her
bruising and underarm pain allow her to use crutches. Daniel
helped her into a wheelchair and to the car. For Geneva, the
process was incredibly painful and humiliating.
At the hotel Daniel struggled to get Geneva from the
station wagon to the front door. Noticing his difficulty, the desk
attendant hollered, “Wait, I have a wheelie chair!” He brought
them an office chair with wheels, for which the Kosters were
grateful.
As Daniel got Geneva into the chair, the two men whose
vehicle had slid off the opposite side of the highway emerged from
the hotel restaurant. They helped him to get Geneva to the room
and into bed.
Daniel drove the car back to the hospital but forgot to take
the crutches they’d given him for Geneva. The crutches could
have helped with the ankle injury he had sustained prior to the
accident. As it was, the walk back to the hotel was slow and
painful. Half way to the hotel, the paramedics who had been at the
accident scene drove by and gave him a ride.
Daniel called Wendell Garrison, the director of Rock
Nest Ranch, where Daniel and Geneva had volunteered for years.
“Wendell, Geneva and I had an accident near McBride, and she’s
in a lot of pain. We’re in the Sandman Hotel near the hospital.
Could you come and get us and bring my trailer to haul our stuff?”
“I’ll be there this evening,” Wendell promised.
In the meantime, the newly-weds thanked God that they
were still alive and asked for His help with whatever lay ahead.
That evening Daniel appreciated Wendell’s help. Since Geneva
was still unable to stand or sit up on her own, assisting her had
been hard on his injured ankle. Sleep was scarce that night.
Geneva’s body hurt so much that she needed help even to roll over
in bed.
The next morning the men managed to get Geneva into
Wendell’s truck and drove to the towing company. The office
personnel informed Daniel that he’d have to pay the entire bill
before he could even see his vehicle or belongings.
“How much is it?” Daniel asked.
“Two thousand six hundred dollars Canadian.” A
staggering amount, but the process of recovering the vehicle
and all of their belongings had required three tow trucks, hired
flaggers, and four hours of hard work. The truck and its contents
were worth more than $4,000. Daniel paid the bill, though
somewhat reluctantly. He had always lived frugally. Now he had
lost an $8,000 truck and paid a big towing bill, but having Geneva
still alive was worth any expense.
He and Wendell loaded the Kosters’ belongings onto
the trailer and drove to the home of Geneva’s older brother in
Smithers, an hour from Houston. They had planned to stay there
a couple of weeks while looking for a place to rent or purchase in

Houston.
Geneva’s pain was constant. She still could not sit up or
walk independently. Noting that her back pain was in odd places,
her family physician ordered more X-rays, which revealed little.
He decided to schedule a CT scan in Prince George, three hours
away.
Three weeks after the accident, Geneva was able to walk
and sit up on her own. With the help of the Baptist church, the
Kosters moved into the mobile home they had rented in the
Houston trailer park.
A week later Geneva had her CT scan. Despite significant
pain, the doctor in Prince George determined that she was fine;
they could go home. The Kosters were puzzled. Why the pain?
They weren’t in a big city very often, so they took
advantage of the opportunity to shop a bit before driving home.
Once they headed for home, they noticed that they’d missed
numerous calls and text messages while shopping. Some of the
calls urged them to call their family physician as soon as possible.
While they were checking the messages, the Prince George doctor
called and told them to return to the hospital immediately. They
thought they must have left something behind.
Upon their arrival at the emergency room, hospital
personnel immediately put Geneva on a gurney and placed her in a
neck brace. “Don’t move for any reason!” they said. “Your neck
is broken.” The doctor, who had consulted with the physician at
the Vancouver spine clinic, told them that Geneva needed to fly
to Vancouver that day for surgery. Without providing any further
information, he left. Geneva burst into tears and Daniel tried to
comfort her.
Within minutes the doctor returned. “When was your neck
was injured?” he asked.
“October 26,” Geneva answered.
“A month ago?” The doctor’s eyes widened and his
jaw dropped. “That changes everything. I’ll have to call the
Vancouver surgeon again.” Once more he left with no explanation.
Finally he reappeared to announce that Geneva had an appointment
with a Vancouver spine specialist in a week. “And don’t take off
your neck brace for any reason,” he warned.
The Kosters left the hospital with more questions than
answers, knowing only that Geneva’s neck was broken and that she
had to be in a brace. She’d have to fly to Vancouver; there was no
way she could endure a 12-hour road trip.
The Vancouver physician showed Daniel and Geneva the
X-rays. “You have two mid-back compression fractures,” he
explained. “They’ll likely cause you pain the rest of your life.”
Then, pointing to one of the neck vertebrae, he continued. “The
good news is that when this particular vertebra was crushed into
a triangular wedge, which normally causes paralysis or death, a
small bump formed that kept the vertebra from slipping out of
place. Had the vertebra slipped, you would have been instantly
paralyzed. I’m amazed at how well you’re doing.”
The Kosters were equally amazed. Not only had Geneva
survived a fall on the ice since the accident, she also had held her
young nephews with no disastrous effects. God’s grace was the
only reasonable explanation.
Other trials followed. Their cell phones and computers
ceased to function. Moving into their new home and sorting
through debris in the truck were difficult tasks. Insurance benefits
were minimal, with no vehicle coverage at all. Besides being
bedridden for a month, Geneva endured physical therapy and wore
a neck brace for three months. Her recovery was slow and painful.
Because she couldn’t be on her feet more than a few hours at a
time, she couldn’t look for a job either.
Despite the difficulties, God had provided comfort,
strength, and helpful friends. Both Daniel and Geneva were
certain that He had allowed the accident and the injuries for His
glory, caring for them throughout the difficult journey and teaching
them unconditional love for each other. He had taught them to
hold loosely to possessions and to live each day as if it were their
last. They praised Him for life and for strength through pain
suffered and pain spared. Initially, they simply trusted that “all
things work together for good for those who love God and are the
called according to His purpose.” Ultimately, they experienced the
reality of that divine promise.
Geneva focused frequently on her life verses, I
Thessalonians 5:16-18. “I thought I knew what ‘giving thanks in

all circumstances’ meant,” she said. “After the accident, however,
I was challenged to seek out opportunities to give thanks and to
rejoice despite where I was in life. The months after the accident
showed me the value of living out my faith . . . .
“To be joyful and thankful while the doctor is telling you
that your life will never be the same is a testament to the God
we serve. To be able to talk to people about how God carried us,
provided for us, and comforted us is one of the most beautiful gifts
I have to share. I can’t say that I wouldn’t change it for the world,
but I can say that our God is beautiful, and He works all things for
the good of those who love Him.”
Daniel, too, had profited from the grueling experience.
“Whether we live or die,” he declared, “we will serve the Lord,
and we will trust in Him. God is good, but He is not safe. It is
in this unsafe state that we learn how to love.” God had changed
the focus of his heart. Both he and Geneva are confident that the
accident was His best for them.
58
Beyond Racing Flames
Seventy missionary trainees and their children exited the
Timber Bay Bible Centre chapel into heavy smoke and
falling ash. Prior to the chapel service they’d seen an orange
glow in the sky, but there had been no fire or smoke.
Immediately UIM International missionary John Cosby,
director of the Ministry Development Program (MDP) which was
being held in Saskatchewan, Canada, consulted with Doug Nelson,
the on-site administrator. Doug called the government firemonitoring
agency. “What’s happening? Where’s the fire?”
“We’re not sure yet, but stay on the alert.”
Despite uncertainties, the MDP families from three
countries and five mission organizations proceeded to the dining
hall for lunch. They were just beginning their sixth week of an
eight-week program; having to leave now would be unfortunate,
but staying might be deadly.
Every 15-20 minutes Doug contacted the authorities.
Estimated time until evacuation, should it be required, dropped
quickly—90 minutes, 40, 30. The call came as the group was
eating: “Evacuate within 20 minutes!”
Calmly but with urgency, everyone scattered to collect
children and belongings. UIMers Ernie and Roxie Geeting
retrieved numerous supplies for the missionary children’s “Fully
Rely on God” course. They even remembered to take a mini
TV/VCR but later realized that they had forgotten their birth
certificates. One family forgot toothbrushes; another, an air
mattress; and yet another, a pillow.
Genuine caring and teamwork were evident. Some of the
group helped an older couple gather their belongings; families with
vehicles offered rides to those without. One family packed a set of
clothes for each member of a family that was on an outing to an ice
cream shop.
With no cell phone coverage, John e-mailed Philip Knight,

the director of Northern Canada Evangelical Mission (NCEM) in
Prince Albert, the organization connected with the Bible Centre.
“Hey, Philip, we have approximately 125 people involved in the
MDP program at Timber Bay. We’re being evacuated due to a
large fire. Pray for us, and can you provide a place for us?”
Philip was happy to assist in any way possible and assured
John of the prayers of his staff. John promised to send him an e-
mail list of names to assist with their preparations.
While John made arrangements and helped to oversee
the evacuation process, others offered to help his wife, Marge.
Unfortunately, since John had the pickup, their trailer could not be
hooked up; they would have to leave most of their belongings.
Everyone soon gathered in the parking lot and prayed
together. The Bible Centre staff was busily hosing down roofs.
“Father, please keep the fire from burning the Bible Centre
buildings,” someone prayed. “And Father,” pled another, “make it
evident to everyone—firefighters, community, everyone—that You
alone stopped the fire.”
Several walkie-talkies were distributed as the group
scrambled to their cars. Seeing the children’s excitement, an
onlooker could have thought they were going on a picnic.
As Doug and his wife pulled to the head of the convoy, a
fire truck raced by. “Get outta here; you got no time!” the driver
yelled.
The shorter route southwest to Prince Albert was blocked
by the fire. The fleeing missionaries were forced northeast along
Highway 969, a longer route on the east side of Montreal Lake. It
was graveled, rough, and dusty.
Having accounted for the thirty vehicles and a sport bike,
John and Marge pulled in at the end of the line. “I’m concerned
about the family that went for ice cream,” John remarked. He
had no way of knowing that two Mounties at the ice cream shop
had told the family of Timber Bay’s evacuation to Prince Albert.
“We need to pray for them and the safety of the Bible Centre
staff. It must be scary for the ones staying here. They said they’d
seek protection in that large storage building if the fire swept the
campground.”
Dust mushroomed around the slow-moving vehicles,
necessitating some distance between them. Wolfgang, one of the
trainees, noticed that James, the single fellow with the sport bike,
was struggling. “Maybe I should ask if he wants to switch places,”
Wolfgang said to Kelly, his wife. “I’ve ridden that kind of bike all
over the U.S. and Latin America.”
Stopping the car, Wolfgang hollered, “Having trouble?”
“Yeah, I just bought this bike not long ago and haven’t had
a lot of experience. It’s not built for this slow pace.”
“You’re right about that,” Wolfgang said. “I’ve ridden
sport bikes a lot and would be happy to trade places with you.”
James eagerly handed his helmet to Wolfgang and slid into
Wolfgang and Kelly’s tightly packed two-door Saturn. Donning
the helmet, Wolfgang took off, delighted to be free of a slowly
moving car. He quickly maneuvered to the front of the convoy and
rode at a comfortable speed, stopping occasionally to wait for the
others. Any towns, gas stations, or houses that may have existed
along the route were obscured by smoke and dust.
John was grateful that everyone was out safely, but his
thoughts were on the coming days. The interpersonal skills
workshop instructors had arrived just as the group was packing to
leave. Could the training program continue? Would NCEM have
adequate housing and meeting facilities? Only God knew what lay
ahead.
In about ninety minutes the lead cars reached the junction
of Highways 969 and 2 and waited for the rest to arrive. Two rows
of vehicles formed, extending quite a distance back from the stop
sign. The nearby forest beckoned restroom seekers. Adults milled
about sharing snacks while children played in the warm sunshine.
When Don Nellis, UIM’s Mexico field director, took out his guitar,
the adults gathered around and sang lustily. A party atmosphere
reigned.
As soon as the Cosbys arrived, the caravan pulled
southward onto Highway 2 for the two-hour drive to NCEM
headquarters in Prince Albert. From the west side of Montreal
Lake, the fire’s magnitude was more visible. Smoke towered
into the sky; the fire’s heat and the lake’s humidity combined to

form immense thunderheads. The sky blazed with color, vividly
outlining enormous clouds. “Reminds me of the Shekinah
glory the Israelites saw in the desert,” Don Nellis commented.
“Wherever that cloud went, God was working; He was the One
who caused it to move. It’s comforting to know that He’s working
here, too.”
John drove mechanically, his thoughts still on the hours
and days just ahead. About ten miles north of Prince Albert, cell
phone coverage was restored. Many of the travelers called family
members and acquaintances. John called Philip to let him know
the group was safe and not far from Prince Albert.
About a half hour after the first vehicle arrived, John and
Marge pulled into the NCEM parking lot, relieved to learn that the
family that had gone for ice cream had reconnected with the group.
Everyone assembled to thank God for safety and to commit the
days ahead to Him.
The efficient organization and genuine hospitality of
NCEM were soon in evidence. Dinner, housing assignments, and
directions to host homes were awaiting the guests. Two facilities
were available for the training program, and not a day of training
would be missed. The MDPers were overwhelmed by the staff’s
obvious joy in caring for their every need, including breakfasts and
evening meals in host homes. “Their openness was like that of
first century Christians,” one trainee said later, “sharing food and
caring for other believers from all over.”
God worked a special miracle for the family that had
been at the ice cream shop. The day before the fire, the lady
who, unknown to her, would become their hostess the next day,
had purchased, for no special reason, extra toothbrushes, extra
toothpaste, and even diapers. “She had everything we needed!” the
wife of the guest family exclaimed.
The next day the adults began the interesting and helpful
interpersonal skills workshops, but concentration was difficult.
How close would the fire get to the Timber Bay camp? Would
God protect it and the surrounding homes? Only a miracle could
spare the area from total destruction. They wondered and talked
and prayed between sessions and at mealtimes.
The church provided four classrooms for the forty-two
children, its members practicing what they had learned about
hospitality during recent sermons. The two-room nursery was
perfect for the fourteen children from infancy to two years old. A
single missionary lady taught preschoolers in a third room, and the
Geetings kept a dozen first-graders to eighth-graders profitably
occupied in another room. Supplies, copies, play equipment—
whatever was needed, the church generously provided.
Morning and afternoon classes kept the trainees busy. They
heard little news via public media since the fire was no threat to
Prince Albert. Via a telephone land line, John kept in contact with
the Bible Centre’s missionary pastor, Tom Cnossen. The camp had
become a base for firefighters and helicopters.
On Tuesday when John called, Tom exclaimed, “Believe
it or not, John, about a half hour ago the wind turned 180˚ and it
started to rain harder than it has rained for a long while. The fire
came very close to the Centre and stopped.”
The group applauded that announcement.
One radio report did reach the group: “Wind and the lack
of rain for two years made the fire unstoppable. Water bombers
and helicopters were grounded because of high winds. The fire
burned within a hundred yards of Timber Bay Bible Centre and
came even closer to six of the nearby homes, surrounding one of
them. The firefighters thought they might lose the community, but
they fought hard! Then suddenly the wind shifted 180 degrees!
Black clouds rolled in and poured two inches of rain on the fire in
less than an hour! The fire was extinguished, its demise the result
of an extremely unusual weather phenomenon!” the newscaster
concluded.
Unusual weather phenomenon! The trainees had seen the
height of those flames and felt the hot wind driving them toward
the camp. They were grateful for brave firefighters who had risked
their lives to fight the fire, but nothing less than Almighty God’s
miraculous intervention had stopped it.
By Thursday the Centre’s electric power was restored and
the all-clear signal was given. Families began the return trip via
the shorter, more direct route, some stopping to walk through the

lackened forest, minus the beautiful pussy willows, ferns, and
other foliage. A few firefighters still worked hot spots.
Tractor trailers, helicopters, and other fire-fighting
equipment remained at the Bible Centre; firefighters’ tents lined
the bank of Montreal Lake. Not one burned area could be seen at
the Centre. The grass in the yard around the house just south of
the camp was charred, but the house was untouched. Reportedly,
water dumped from a helicopter had saved it, but credit was due
the same sovereign God who had spared the Bible camp.
Dishes from the last meal still soaked in the kitchen’s
water-filled sinks. A hardened cinnamon roll lay on the counter,
abandoned in the rushed exodus. Rotting fish and other previously
frozen and refrigerated foods demanded attention.
The trainees soon began their wilderness trails activity
some distance north of the burned area. That activity revealed
a tight-knit group, amazing since development of “community”
normally takes three to four months. Due to the fire and, according
to John, to the quality of the people involved, this group had
bonded in five weeks.
The fire had provided the framework for many important
lessons: flexibility, dealing with situations without rigid
expectations, positive interactions with people who are not
necessarily close friends, and the realization that possessions do
not equal happiness.
The missionaries’ prayer for God to stop the fire and to
reveal to everyone that He alone had stopped it yielded even
greater blessings. A member of the community remarked to a
Timber Bay staff member, “We’re lucky you guys were here during
that fire.”
“Why?” the staff member asked.
“God stopped it because of this place.”
The not-particularly-friendly chief of the nearby Woodland
Cree people also noticed and made his first-ever visit to Tom
Cnossen. Tom invited him in for coffee. Typical of First Nations
people, the chief viewed life’s events through a spiritual lens. He
expressed the certainty that Tom’s Creator God had intervened and
stopped the fire from consuming both the Bible Centre and the
homes of his people.
The sudden wind change and torrential rain were indeed
unusual, but both came from the hand of the Almighty One who
created them. He alone authored the “unusual phenomenon.”

“Great is our Lord and mighty in power;
his understanding has no limit” (Psalm 147:5).
“Do you not know? Have you not heard?
The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the
earth.
He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can
fathom.
He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the
weak”
(Isaiah 40:28-29).
“In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of
sins,
in accordance with the riches of God’s grace that he lavished on us
with all wisdom and understanding” (Ephesians 1:7).
“. . . because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy,
made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in
transgressions—
it is by grace you have been saved” (Ephesians 2:4-5).

Job referred to God’s incredibly powerful creative acts as mere
“fringes” of His ways. The stories in Beyond the Fringes of
God’s Ways reveal even greater power, the power of the Gospel
to transform lives, enabling them to benefit not only from eternal
salvation but from His provision and guidance as well.
Michael Hodgin, editor of Zondervan’s Humorous Illustrations
series:
“Mark 9:24 expresses the frustrated faith of a man who asks Jesus
to heal his afflicted son. His response to Jesus is: ‘Lord, I believe;
help my unbelief!’ This wonderful book takes us beyond God’s
“fringes” and allows us a little peek at the heart of God in everyday
circumstances. Sure we believe, but this book gets us beyond
our lingering unbelief. These simple stories help us see God’s
workings in every situation, big or small, short or long, joyous or
sorrowful.”
About the Author:
For thirty years Juanita Fike has served with UIM International,
the first fourteen as Executive Secretary. She has edited a book
of UIM missionaries’ stories of answered prayers (Beyond What
We Asked) and written three devotional booklets for Native people
and booklets about several tribal groups. She’s also written a
missionary biography (The Hand of the Ancient One) and UIM’s
50-year history (Fifty Years of God’s Faithfulness: An Adventure
of Faith). Juanita continues as UIM’s proofreader and editor,
teaches Native American girls’ Bible clubs, makes occasional visits
to Native people in the hospital or nursing home, and enjoys an
active hospitality ministry in Flagstaff, AZ.