Category Archives: Books

31 Days of Missionary Stories: Dallas and Kay Washer, Candles in the Darkness

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The names of Dallas and Kay washer were legend when I was in college. At that time I only knew they were missionaries in Togo, West Africa. I never had the opportunity to meet Dallas or hear him speak, but I was privileged to meet Kay several years later when my family lived in SC and two of her grandsons (Mike Washer of National Hoops and Jonathan Washer of National Goals, for those of you who know them) were youth pastors at our church. Kay became “Grandma Washer” to our ministry, speaking to the youth group a number of times and to the ladies once or twice. one-candle-lg.jpg

One saying Dal is known for is, “I have but one candle of life to burn and would rather burn it out where people are dying in darkness than in a land which is flooded with light.” (I had thought this saying was original with him, but it was a quote from John Keith Falconer.) So a few years ago when I saw Kay’s daughter-in-law at church with a stack of books with the title One Candle To Burn, I immediately went to her and asked if Kay had written a book. And she had! I bought one on the spot.

It was pure joy to read. It begins with Dallas and Kay’s childhood and call to the ministry, how the Lord led them together (she at first thought her sister was just right for him), a year of learning the language and Muslim customs in Algiers, then ministry first in Niger and then in Togo. There are many stories of open doors of ministry, people turning from darkness to light, and answers to prayer such as provision of land and finding a source of water for land for a hospital during the last attempt to drill for it. Compassion for the blind, who could only provide for themselves by begging, led Kay to take courses in Braille during one family vacation, then to teaching a few blind boys how to read, then eventually to the establishment of blind school where students get a regular academic education plus learn certain crafts or skills. She was surprised to be honored with the civilian medal of honor by Togo’s President Eyadema.

You get some idea of where the Washer adventurousness comes from when you read of Kay lying on her stomach strapped to the floor of a small plane with the door removed so she could film the maiden voyage of boat used as a floating mission station.

When people asked about her children’s safety and exposure to disease, she told them about an lawn mower accident resulting in the loss of toes of one of her sons — in America.

My heart was especially touched by the chapters dealing with Dallas’s death and later Kay’s serious fall which resulted in a broken arm and two broken bones in her leg and the long, complicated recovery period. At first she chafed under what felt like imprisonment, but later came to accept that this was God’s will for her at the time and to allow Him to work in and through her for a different kind of ministry.

There are many remarkable stories tracing God’s hand at work, laced with good humor and touching moments and lessons learned — all the more remarkable because the events are true. Love for God, for family, and for the people of Africa shines throughout.

I have been so glad to see this book. As much as I love the missionary classics, I believe it is incredibly important for missionaries of our time to record what the Lord has done. The same God who worked through Hudson Taylor and Amy Carmichael is still at work today!

You can read a bit more about Kay Washer here.

(You can see other posts in the 31 Days of Missionary Stories here.)

(This will also be linked to Semicolon‘s Saturday Review of Books.)

31 Days of Missionary Stories: J. O. Fraser: Pianist and Engineer Turned Missionary

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I first came across the name of J. O. Fraser in writings of Isobel Kuhn, whom I have mentioned here many times. The Lord used him to call Isobel to the mission field, and in later years he was her superintendent in China. Two good biographies of him are Behind the Ranges by Geraldine Taylor and a later one, Mountain Rain, by his daughter, Eileen Crossman. Both books contain many of Fraser’s letters and journal entries. They both appear to be out of print, but thankfully used copies and Kindle editions are available. His name is not as well known as Hudson Taylor and Amy Carmichael, but his remarkable life and character are well worth reading.

FraserJames Outram Fraser was born to a prominent English family in London in 1886. He was trained as both an engineer and a classical pianist. As a young man he came across a tract written to Christians urging them to give their lives to reach the lost in China. Something in it touched a heart prepared, and he at that time gave Christ “not the latch key, but the master key” of his life. He looked on that moment as his conversion.

After applying to the China Inland Mission and training, he went to China as a missionary. One market day in his village, he met some men from a tribe called the Lisu. His heart went out to them. They lived in the mountains of the area, six days journey northward. “I was very much led out in prayer for these people, right from the beginning. Something seemed to draw me to them; and the desire in my heart grew til it became a burden that God would give us hundreds of converts among the Lisu.” Workers were scarce in China: to go to the Lisu meant that James would have to go alone as an itinerant pioneer missionary traveling out to them from time to time as he could, and the Lisu villages were so spread out that he could not stay for long at one place. Other areas were more promising, but James felt led to the Lisu.

So he traveled to them and visited them. They were greatly open, friendly, cheerful, hospitable though living in poverty and squalor. James dressed as they dressed, ate as they ate, traveling on foot or by donkey up and down steep mountain ranges (and, by his description, thoroughly enjoying it!) He told them about the one true God. They listened well. Some were interested, but they lived in great fear. They did not worship idols. They worshiped demons themselves. They didn’t particularly want to or enjoy doing so, but they were trapped. The demons could quite literally make their lives miserable.

He learned much over time and with experience about how to work with the Lisu and about dealing with unseen principalities and powers. One article that came to him just when needed showed him “that deliverance from the power of the evil one comes through definite resistance on the grounds of the cross. I am an engineer and believe in things working. I want to see them work. I had found that much of the spiritual teaching one hears does not seem to work…The passive side of leaving everything to the Lord Jesus as our life, while blessedly true, was not all that was needed just then. Definite resistance on the ground of the cross was what brought me light….’Resist the devil’ is also Scripture (James 4:7). And I found that it worked. That cloud of depression dispersed. I found that I could have the victory in the spiritual realm whenever I wanted it. The Lord Himself resisted the devil vocally: ‘Get thee behind me, Satan!’ I, in humble dependence on Him, did the same. I talked to Satan at that time, using the promises of Scripture as weapons. And they worked. Right then, the terrible oppression began to pass away.”

He also leaned much on the intercessory prayer of others. He asked his mother to gather some prayer helpers, folks who would definitely undertake for his ministry in prayer. He began to correspond with them about what he was learning about prayer.

Little by little the seed of the Word was planted and the ground of hearts tilled. Little by little battles were fought for spiritual territory the evil one had claimed for himself; little by little ground was won. Just when James was ready to conceded that God’s time was not now for the Lisu, he made one “last” trip through all the villages, and then it was that the Lord of the harvest brought forth a bumper crop.

He found that even with as little teaching as he was able to give them before having to travel on to the next village, they taught others all they knew. The Lord eventually raised up more workers, and the church grew in numbers and in grace.

James wrote to his prayer helpers,

They [the Lisu] have not yet grown to military age in this spiritual warfare; they are babes in God’s nursery, not warriors in God’s army. But you have centuries of Christianity behind you, you have had Christian education, Christian influence, an open Bible, devotional helps, and many other things to help you in your growth to spiritual maturity. So now you belong to those of full stature in Christ, who are able to ‘help with power against the enemy.’ The vast difference between you and them is that you are ‘grown up’ in Christ, while they are babes and sucklings; and the work of pulling down Satan’s strongholds requires strong men, not infants.

He was asking his supporters to treat their prayer as more than a sideline. “I am trying to roll the main responsibility of this prayer-warfare on you,” he told them. “I want you to take the BURDEN of these people upon your shoulders, I want you to wrestle with God for them.”

 I feel like a businessman who perceives that a certain line of goods pays better than any other in his store, and who purposes making it his chief investment; who, in fact, sees an inexhaustible supply and an almost unlimited demand for a profitable article and intends to go in for it more than anything else.

The DEMAND is the lost state of these tens of thousands of Lisu and Kachin — their ignorance, their superstitions, their sinfulness; their bodies, their minds, their soul; the SUPPLY is the grace of God to meet his need — to be brought down to them by the persevering prayers of a considerable company of God’s people. All I want to do is, as a kind of middleman, to bring the supply and demand together.

The Lisu language had not been reduced to writing, so James developed a script which later became known as the Fraser alphabet and eventually translated the New Testament and other aids into Lisu.

One unique mark of his ministry was that the work was indigenous from the beginning. According to Wikipedia:

Fraser maintained a consistent policy of training the Lisu converts (usually whole households and whole villages at a time) to be self-supporting and to pay for their own books and church buildings. They raised their own funds for the support of pastors, of wives and children of their travelling evangelists and of festivals and other occasions. Unlike other missionaries of his generation, Fraser would not pay local preachers to go out, or for building local church structures, and this was something that put the Lisu in good stead for the years of Japanese occupation and the Communist persecution, particularly during the Chinese cultural revolution. Nevertheless tens of thousands of them fled during this era to neighboring Burma and Thailand. Fraser also left church government in the hands of Lisu elders; very little imprint was made on them that had a home church character, other than the tremendous prayer support the Fraser organised back in England for the Lisu and his work.

He also established the Rainy Season Bible Schools (Isobel Kuhn writes much about these),  systematic Bible study during the times when they could not work at their farming.

When James returned from furlough, he was needed in a different area of China: those in charge felt his experience would be best suited to the needs of that region. He was greatly disappointed. F.B. Meyer prayed, “I can’t say I’m willing, Lord, but I’m willing to be made willing,”  and James seemed to know that kind of prayer as well. He “knew the barrenness of obeying reluctantly. Recognition that God’s will was ‘perfect and acceptable’ would be costly, but it was always fruitful.”

He had not planned to be married, but the Lord definitely led in his marriage at the age of 42. He was drawn more into the administrative side of the work as God raised up more laborers in the field, and they counted his help and guidance as greatly valuable. All were stunned at his death at the age of 52 from malignant cerebral malaria.

In character he was known as a godly man with a quick mind, “ahead of his time” in missionary work and methods, kindly, humorous.  One traveling with him once said, “Mr. Fraser is a gentleman to his fingertips. There was nothing of lightness or flippancy. Wisdom governed him and every propriety was observed…He was the perfect gentleman in the dirtiest and dingiest Chinese inns…Every courtesy was observed. Every kindness was done. The depth of his inward life in Christ was never more manifest than in his attention to those hundred and one little things which make comfort for others.”

I discovered a DVD called Breakthrough: The Story of James O. Fraser and the Lisu People, but I have not seen it. Here is a trailer for it:

You can read more about Fraser online here:

About James O. Fraser (Overseas Missionary Fellowship site, formerly the China Inland Mission)
Quotes of J. O. Fraser
J. O. Fraser: Biographical Sketch
The Prayer of Faith

(You can see other posts in the 31 Days of Missionary Stories here.)

31 Days of Missionary Stories: Rosalind Goforth, a Woman “of Like Passions” As We Are

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ClimbingI mentioned Rosalind Goforth in the second post of this series and the unique ways God answered her very human and what we might consider mundane but serious needs for clothes for her children. After she had written Goforth of China, a biography of her husband, and How I Know God Answers Prayer (all or most of the text of this book is here, and it is free for the Kindle for a time here), she was asked to write something about her own perspectives and struggles after nearly a lifetime on the mission field. The result of that request is Climbing, her own story of answered prayer and personal struggles, one of my top three favorite missionary books. Being of like passions as we are, she very honestly and transparently writes of such things as overhearing two Chinese women talking about her quick temper and impatience and wishing she would live more as she preached. At first she was angry, but then realized it was all too true. She struggled with this for years, until much later the Chinese servants who had wanted to avoid her now wanted to be around her and serve her, wondering what had caused the change in her.

She tells of the work of God in many a life, of many funny experiences as well as trying ones, of multitudes of direct answers to prayer for helpers, for monetary and health needs, for protection, for grace and strength, even for everyday practical things like help to find a proper hat (after being criticized, sadly, by probably well-meaning women when she came home on furlough.)

Like any mother with young children, she struggled to have time alone with the Lord. She writes:

A devoted Christian missionary, Mrs. S, was holding a series of special meetings for our Christian women at Changte. On one occasion, this dear woman, who had no children, told me that I could never have the peace and joy I longed for unless I rose early and spent from one to two hours with the Lord in prayer and Bible study.

I longed intensely for God’s best — for all He could give me, not only to help me live the true Christian life but also for peace and rest of soul. So I determined to do what Mrs. S. had advised.

The following morning, about half-past five o’clock, I slipped as noiselessly as possible out of bed. (My husband had already gone to his study.) I had taken only a step or two when first one and then another little head bobbed up; then came calls of, “Mother is it time to get up?”

“Hush, hush, no, no,” I whispered as I went back, but too late; the baby had wakened! So, of course, the morning circus began an hour too soon.

But I did not give up easily. Morning after morning I tried rising early for the morning watch, but always with the same result. So I went back to the old way of just praying quietly — too often just sleeping! Oh, how I envied my husband, who could have an hour or more of uninterrupted Bible study while I could not. This led me to form the habit of memorizing Scripture, which became an untold blessing to me. I took advantage of odd opportunities on cart, train, or when dressing, always to have a Bible or Testament at hand so that in the early mornings I could recall precious promises and passages of Scripture (pp. 75-76).

One day when she was especially busy, she received a note from another missionary lady who was supposed to take a women’s meeting but found out she couldn’t and asked Rosalind to at nearly the last minute. She needed to nurse her baby, and she set her Bible up where she could see it. Her husband came in just then and said, “It puzzles me how you can address a meeting with so little preparation.” She responded, “Jonathan, if I had time like you, I could not expect to get a message in so short a time, but the fact is the Lord suits His help to me as a mother!” (p. 112). I’ve benefited from her studies on what God does with our sin and conditions for receiving strength.

I’ve been convicted along with her as she shares. During most of the time the Goforths ministered, the Chinese were quite suspicious of and disdainful toward “foreign devils.” To try to alleviate those feelings and establish relationships with the Chinese, the Goforths would allow crowds of the curious into their home to look around and to talk with them. This resulted in some agitation and disruption as well as theft of some of their belongings, but over all they felt it was worth it. Of one particular day, Rosalind writes:

The day had been an unusually strenuous one, and I was really very tired. Toward evening, a crowd of women burst through the living room door and came trooping in before I had time to meet them outside. One woman set herself out to make things unpleasant. She was rough and repulsive and– well, just indescribably filthy. I paid no attention to her except to treat her as courteously as the rest. But when she put both hands to her nose, saying loudly, “Oh, these foreign devils, the smell of their home is unbearable!”, my temper rose in a flash and, turning on her with anger, I said, “How dare you speak like that? Leave the room!” The crowd, sensing a “storm,” fled. I heard one say, “That foreign devil woman has a temper just like ours!”

Now, I had not noticed that the door of my husband’s study was ajar, not did I know that he was inside, until, as the last woman disappeared, the door opened and he came forward, looking solemn and stern. “Rose, how could you so forget yourself?” he said. “Do you realize that just one such incident may undo months of self-sacrificing, loving service?”

“But Jonathan” I returned, “you don’t know how she — “

But he interrupted. “Yes, I do; I heard all. You certainly had reason to be annoyed; but were you justified, with all that is hanging in the balance and God’s grace to keep you patient?”

As he turned to re-enter his study, he said, “All I can say is I am disappointed!“

Oh, how that last word cut me! I deserved it, yes, but, oh, I did so want to reach up to the high ideals he had. A tempestuous time followed alone in our inner room with my Lord. as I look back now, it was all just one farther step up the rocky hillside of life — just climbing! (pp. 45-46).

GoforthsThough the Goforths faced many personal hardships and losses, “Sometimes when letters would reach us from the homeland expressing pity for us, how my husband would laugh as I read them to him. ‘Pity,’ he would say, ‘why this is the most glorious life possible!’ Yes, it was indeed!” (p. 69).

(You can see a list of other posts in the 31 Days of Missionary Stories here.)

 

(This will also be linked to Semicolon‘s Saturday Review of Books.)

What’s On Your Nightstand: October 2013

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What's On Your NightstandThe folks at 5 Minutes For Books host What’s On Your Nightstand? the fourth Tuesday of each month in which we can share about the books we have been reading and/or plan to read.

I just realized Monday that the monthly nightstand post was scheduled for today rather than next week, since this is the fourth Tuesday of the month. My initial reaction: “Drat!” 🙂 Don’t get me wrong, this is one of my favorite monthly events, but I just finished two books and am almost done with another, and had planned to review them this week in anticipation of the Nightstand posts I thought were coming next week. It’s months like these that make me wish the Nightstand meme came at the end of the month instead of the fourth Tuesday….but, oh well. I’ll adapt. 🙂

Since last time I have completed:

The Mysterious Benedict Society and the Perilous Journey by Trenton Lee Stewart, audiobook, not reviewed. The children come together for a reunion with each other and Mr. Benedict a year after their adventure in the last book, only to find that Mr. B. is missing. They each have to employ their special skills to help find him and learn the best times and ways to use those skills. Still a fun book though I didn’t like it quite as well as the first. The audiobook was read by an older man (maybe supposed to sound like a grandpa or Mr. B. telling the story? I don’t know). But since most of the dialogue occurs between the children, it seemed odd to hear them in an older voice which didn’t vary or try to sound differently from person to person, so that may have affected my perception.

The Chance by Karen Kingsbury, audiobook, review coming soon.

Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy by Eric Metaxas, also hope to review this soon, but I marked a lot of places in it, so it may take me a while.

Her Husband’s Crown by Sara Leone, a reader who graciously sent me a copy, not reviewed. Sara writes as a missionary and pastor’s wife to other pastor’s wives, but much of the 48-page booklet is applicable to any Christian wife. A great resource.

I’m currently reading:

A Severe Mercy by Sheldon Vanauken. Almost done with it. It’s mainly about his relationship with his wife, how they went from atheism to Christianity, her illness and death (no spoiler – this information is related up front), how he dealt with it, and his letters with his friend, C. S. Lewis, through much of it.

The Healer’s Apprentice by Melanie Dickerson, a sort-of retelling of Cinderella. Not enjoying it quite as much so far as the Beauty-and-the-Beast-inspired The Merchant’s Daughter (linked to my thoughts), but we’ll see how it ends up.

Next up:

Lost and Found by Ginny Yttrup

Jennifer: An O’Malley Love Story by Dee Henderson

Granny Brand, Her Story by Dorothy Clarke Wilson. I read this years ago but had borrowed it through our ladies’ group library at another town and church, so when I wanted to reread it I found some used copies online. Evelyn Brand is the mother of Paul Brand, author of The Gift of Pain, which I’ve not read, but I have read a biography of his  called Ten Fingers For God by the same author, which I also ordered and want to read again some time.

Little Women for Carrie’s Reading to Know Book Club for November, one I’ve reread many times and love every time.

That looks like the least I’ve read in any given month in a long time, though Bonhoeffer was a very long book, so that took up quite a bit of time, and I’ve been spending time this month going through 31 Days of Missionary Stories. Most of the books I’ve referenced in that series I’ve read long ago, so I didn’t list them here, but I invite you to take a look. Missionary biographies have been a major influence on my own life and faith over the years.

Have you read any good books lately?

31 Days of Missionary Stories: William Carey: “Attempt great things for God. Expect great things from God.”

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CareyNo series like this would be complete without mention of William Carey, who is known as the “Father of Modern Missions.” In reading of his life, one cannot help but be struck by the providence of God in preparing and directing him and the perseverance of William Carey in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds.

He was born near Northampton, England in 1761 to a poor weaver. When he was six, his father was appointed a clerk for the Church of England. William loved to read, and in that day most books were only owned by rich people and clergymen; so with his father’s new appointment came many opportunities to borrow books. William was fascinated by tales of explorers and other lands. He was also very quick with languages. He taught himself Latin from an old book of his uncle’s that he found along with an old dusty Latin grammar book his father had found. Later on as a teenager, after finding a book of Greek, he found someone to teach it to him, and quickly picked it up as well.

William completed the schooling available to him at the age of 12 (only those who could afford to continued their formal education beyond that; William’s family could not.) William loved the outdoors and went to work on a farm; however, he got a painful rash on his hands and face whenever he was out in the sun. He tried to continue the work for two years, but finally had to give it up. It is likely that if he had continued on in that labor, he would have remained a poor farmer all his life. Instead, his father apprenticed him to a shoemaker. William was able to work with a book propped up nearby and continued to learn. The other apprentice was a “dissenter” — one who disagreed with much in the Church of England. They had some lively arguments, but in the end William became a dissenter, too, eventually becoming one of their preachers. After a few years, a congregation called him to be their pastor.

William was also able to teach school. His geography lessons spurred not only his love of learning, but his compassion for people in other lands who did not know Christ. His interest grew into a passion which compelled him to action.

Churches didn’t send out missionaries in the late 1700s — at least not Dissenting English churches. Many felt that the “Great Commission” was given to 11 disciples in the New Testament and wasn’t applicable in modern times. At a minister’s meeting, William tried to share his burden and vision for reaching the lost in other lands. He was told by an older pastor, “Young man, sit down! If God wants to convert the heathen, He will do it without consulting you — or me!” He was soundly rebuked as a “miserable enthusiast.” This drove William to study to see if the minister was right, but he became more convinced than ever that they had a responsibility to the heathen. The more he studied about other countries, the more he felt burdened for souls lost in darkness: the more He studied Scripture, the more he saw evidence that the church was indeed called to spread the gospel.

Since the subject caused such dissension in public meetings, he began to talk with other pastors individually. He was urged to write a pamphlet and eventually was able to so, only the “pamphlet” turned into an eighty-seven-page book with a forty-two-word title. It became known as the Enquiry. In it, William addressed some common misconceptions:

Objection: How do we know that this command is still valid? Not even divine injunctions abide forever. They have their periods and pass, like the Levitical law.

Reply: Nay, divine injunctions abide till they have fulfilled their function. Who can think this command exhausted, with the majority of mankind not yet acquainted with Christ’s name?

Objection: But Christ’s command could scarcely have been absolute, seeing they never heard of vast parts of the globe — the South Seas, for example — nor could these be reached. Neither can we think it absolute today, with very large regions still unknown and unopened.

Reply: As they (the apostles) were responsible for going according to their strength into all their accessible world, we are in duty bound to speed into our much enlarged world. Indeed, we ought to be keen to go everywhere for Christ, till all closed doors are open.

Other sections of the book listed the history of missions in the world, the facts as they knew them about the world at the time (including the fact that an estimated 76% or 557 million souls were lost), practical considerations, and the duty of every Christian (to pray, to plod, and to plan).

Soon after his book was published, there was a ministers’ meeting. William brought his book and gave copies to those who were interested. At his opportunity to preach, he chose the text from Isaiah 54:2: “Enlarge the place of thy tent, and let them stretch forth the curtains of thine habitations: spare not, lengthen thy cords, and strengthen thy stakes.” He urged the obligation of missions, concluding with the phrase famous to us now, “Brothers, attempt great things for God. Expect great things from God.” Some of the ministers were shaken. Yet later on, in the business meeting, there were no resolutions and no discussion about missions. When the meeting was adjourned, “William leaped to his feet. ‘Is nothing going to be done again?’” He compared them to the ten scouts of Moses. One man moved to reopen for business, and a majority agreed. Within minutes they passed a resolution: “Resolved, that a plan be prepared against the next ministers meeting at Kettering, for forming a Baptist Society for propagating the gospel among the Heathens.”

Opposition still abounded.  Some felt the church could not afford such a thing. Only two dozen of the congregations in their Association approved.

In the next months, William was led to offer himself as their first appointee. His wife flatly refused to go (though she eventually relented, a depression that began when her first baby died continued to grow. She was mentally unstable a good portion of her adult life.) His father was bitterly opposed. The East India Company feared missionaries would interfere with their trade and opposed them; in fact, William could have been arrested and deported except that a Dutch settlement in India took him in.

Though he had many hearers, there were no converts for seven long years. The first convert was bitterly persecuted, but his family and others to turned to Christ instead of away from Him.

William’s facility with languages led to translating the gospel into several. Other missionaries eventually followed, with churches and a school established. Thanks to one man’s perseverance and God’s grace to him, many were saved and a great work was done that not only impacted Carey’s world for God, but continues to have influence on believers today.

William Carey was a shining example of his own motto, “Attempt great things for God. Expect great things from God,” but near the end of his life, when another missionary came to visit him and discuss his work, William said, “You have been speaking about William Carey. When I am gone, say nothing about William Carey — speak only about William Carey’s Savior.”

William died on June 9, 1834. The epitaph on his tombstone reads:

“A wretched, poor, and helpless worm
on Thy kind arms I fall.”

(Some information taken from William Carey, Father of Modern Missions by Sam Wellman.)

(You can see a list of other posts in the 31 Days of Missionary Stories here.)

(This will also be linked to Semicolon‘s Saturday Review of Books.)

31 Days of Missionary Stories: Eric Liddell: Olympian and Missionary

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liddell The world knows the name Eric Liddell as the winner of the gold medal for the 400 meter race in the 1924 Olympics (portrayed in the film Chariots of Fire). Many know, further, that he did not originally train for that race: he had trained for the 100 meter race, but, dismayed to find that the race was to be held on Sunday, the Lord’s day, he refused to run it and was allowed to switch to the 400 meter. Perhaps fewer still know that he was born to missionary parents and went back to China as a missionary himself.

The biography Eric Liddell by Catherine Swift (Men of Faith Eric Liddell(series, Bethany House Publishers) details his parents’ testimony and early experiences in China. (Incidentally, this book includes the best concise exposition that I have ever read of the famed Chinese Boxer Rebellion, in which many missionaries were killed or driven from China.) Eric was born Jan. 16, 1902, in Tientsin in North China. His parents were originally from Scotland: Eric’s first visit there occurred during his parents’ first furlough when Eric was five.

At this time missionary children were usually educated in boarding schools, so Eric and his older brother Robbie stayed behind at the London Missionary School when their parents went back to China. Eric was thin, in frail health, and very shy at first, but flourished under the headmaster’s practice of his motto, “Healthy minds in healthy bodies.” Although gaining confidence and overcoming much of his shyness, he remained a relatively quiet personality. He began attending voluntary Bible classes in his teens, never taking part in the discussions, but thinking over them when he was alone.

He played cricket and rugby well and especially enjoyed running (interesting since there was concern during an early childhood illness that he might never run), winning many athletic honors: yet he was known for his humility and his not letting any of it go to his head.
Eric had a rather odd running style: “He had a habit of running with his head rested back on his shoulders, gazing up at the heavens instead of where he was going. His knees came right up as though he was trying to hit his own chin, and he lifted his feet far too high off the ground. His arms waved about sporadically and his fists punched at the air, making him look more like a boxer than a runner.”

During Eric’s college years he became well known for his running. At one point some students began evangelistic work in the area and had a particularly hard time reaching the men. One student thought of asking Eric to speak, thinking what fame he had would attract the men. Though he hated “the limelight,” Eric agreed to go. He very quietly and humbly spoke of God and his love for Him and trust in Him. That experience awakened in him a desire to more openly share His Lord with others and began a public ministry.

When Eric began training for the 1924 Olympics in Paris, it never occurred to him that the match would be held on Sunday, as well as two relays he could have competed in. When he saw the schedule, long before the event, he simply felt he could not participate and violate his convictions and dishonor the Lord and His Day. He did not make a big fuss about it — but others did. He received much criticism and was even accused of being a traitor to his country. The authorities tried to get the schedule changed, to no avail, then they asked Eric to compete in the 200 and 400 meter races instead. On Wednesday of the Olympic Games, Eric ran in the 200 meter race, winning a bronze medal, which no Scotsman had even done. Then on Friday, as he was leaving his hotel for the 400 meter race, his regular masseur handed him a slip of paper. Later in a quiet moment, Eric unfolded the paper to read, “In the old book it says, ‘He that honors me I will honor.’ Wishing you the best of success always.” This reinforced to Eric the word he had been resting on, “Whosoever believeth in me shall not be ashamed,” and encouraged him. To everyone’s surprise, he not only won the gold medal in that race, but set a new world record.

Just a few weeks later he publicly announced his plans to be a missionary in China, teaching at a college in the city in which he was born. He spent another year in England, holding campaigns and studying theology.

Eric ministered in China for several years, married, had two daughters and was expecting a third while unrest brewed: nationalists and Communists were fighting each other while the Japanese were creeping in. Eventually the Japanese gained control of their area and were talking about sending all missionaries to internment camps. Eric sent his wife and daughters to Canada. The Christians who were left found creative ways to get around the ban on church services, such as inviting each other to “tea” on Sundays. Just a few weeks before Eric expected to leave, all British and American missionaries were sent to an internment camp several miles away. Eric quietly ministered there in many ways. In another book, A Boy’s War, David Michell, who was a boy in the internment camps at the time, tells of his memories of “Uncle Eric,” as he was known to the children. Eric fell ill and gradually grew worse: eventually he and others knew from his symptoms that he had a brain tumor. His last words were, “It’s complete surrender,” a phrase he had used often in his life and ministry.

The world was stunned to learn of Eric’s death at the age of 43 just a few weeks before World War II ended. Memorial services were held in many places. His life still reaches out even now, nearly 60 years after his death, as an example of quiet, humble servitude and a life that honors God.

Here is a video of Eric Liddell’s and Harold Abraham’s races in the 1924 Olympics:

And this is pretty neat: Day of Discovery took Liddell’s three grown daughters back to China for the first time since their father had sent them to safety in 1941:

One quote of Liddell’s that I have in my files is “Circumstances may appear to wreck our lives and God’s plans, but God is not helpless among the ruins.” I don’t remember the context in which he said these words, but they are a fitting epitaph to his life.

(You can see a list of other posts in the 31 Days of Missionary Stories here.)

(This will also be linked to Semicolon‘s Saturday Review of Books.)

31 Days of Missionary Stories: Spirit of the Rainforest: A Yanomamo Shaman’s Story

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I reviewed this book a few years ago, but I felt that I must include it in this series. This is a current missionary story published in 2000.

rainforest.jpgJungle Mom (who now blogs at Livin’ la Rita Loca) is a missionary that our church in SC supported, and she recommended to me the book Spirit of the Rainforest: A Yanomamo Shaman’s Story by Mark Ritchie. If I understand correctly, the Yanomamo territory bordered the Yekwana Indians that the she and her husband worked with, and the they knew many Yanomamo and their ways and some of the people in this book.

This book is not for the faint of heart, however. It is not gratuitous, but it is graphic and very frank in its dealings with demonism, violence, and the treatment of women. It is told through the eyes of “Jungleman,” a powerful shaman. It is interesting to see things through his perspective (told by him to the author, who wrote them down and confirmed the incidents with others).

He tells first of all of the Yanomamo policy of revenge. Any incident calls for revenge from the family or village sinned against, which usually involves a raid on the offending village, clubbings, and capture and group rape of women. The extent of the raid can vary — in some cases two opposing warriors take turns clubbing each other over the head or across the chest. In more serious offenses every male is killed and the remaining women are assaulted multiple times and then carried off to become wives of the raiding village. If a captured woman tries to run away, she is beaten or killed. Children of the raided village are often brutally killed, occasionally captured.

Such raids did not satisfy the revenge, however: it sparked more revenge. Any remaining men or any relatives who lived in other villages were then expected to exact revenge on the raiding village. A war once begun never stopped. In between raids, villages were afraid to go out into their gardens or out to find food, always fearful of an ambush. Sometimes they broke up camp and wandered in the jungle looking for food. Sometimes mighty warriors woke up with nightmares, haunted by the cries of those that they killed. Yet they could never admit this: fierceness was the most valued characteristic in a Yanamamo male.

Gradually white nabas (their word for non-Yanomamo) began to appear in the jungle. They “talked like babies” but sometimes had useful things to trade. The Indians quickly learned, however, through hard trial and error, that all nabas were not the same. Some were interested in trading, some were interested in helping, but some were evil and interested in exploiting (they knew some earned money by taking and selling pictures of them [one even told them to take off their clothes so the pictures he took and sold would be more “authentic”] and stories about them, but there were others whose exploitation was much, much worse). There were a few, however, who said they were followers of the one the Yanomamo regarded as the great enemy spirit. They said the Indians misunderstood Him, that He loved them and had a better way to live. The Yanomamo were naturally suspicious, but they kept interacting with them because of the items they would trade or because of the medical help, and later because of the peace they exhibited. Jungleman and others’ spirits became troubled every time they were near the village where the nabas lived and begged the shamans not to ‘throw them away.”

To me there were several major benefits to this book. One was the fascinating look into Yanomamo culture. One was the immense power of the gospel to miraculously change lives in those who receive it. It was thrilling to read of those who came to believe and how they changed and grew and began to understand the ways in which they had been deceived.

Another major value of this book is the truth that these “primitive” peoples are not living happy lives frolicking in an idyllic Eden. I don’t know if you realize this, but there is a large and growing segment of the population who believes that such people should be left alone to Western influence all together and especially Christianity. As I said in another post months ago, these people deserve as much chance as anyone else has to hear the gospel and have the choice to change their ways.

The following is an interview between “Doesn’t Miss” (their name for the author), Keleewa, the missionary who interpreted, and a Yanomamo called Hairy on pages 180-183:

“The naba wants to know why you want to change the way you live out here in the jungle,” Keleewa said to Hairy after Doesn’tMiss talked.

Hairy was surprised at the question. “Because we’re miserable out here. We are miserable all the time. The people from Honey [predominantly Christian village] came here and made peace with us many seasons ago and their village keeps getting better. We want that for us. If it means throwing spirits away and getting new ones, we will do it. [This is not something said lightly. Many were under the impression that they would be killed if they tried to get rid of their spirits.] But we need someone to teach us these new ways.”

Hairy didn’t have spirits because he was not a shaman. But he followed everything the spirits told his shaman. I knew my spirits would be very irritated if Hairy quit following the spirits. No one who has killed as often and as long as Hairy could ever stop it…

Doesn’t Miss talked with Keleewa for a while. Keleewa paused and thought how to say what the naba said. Then he told Hairy, “He says there are many people in his land that don’t think that he, or any of us, should be here helping you at all. They say that you’re happy here and that we should leave you alone. He wants to know what an experienced killer like you would say to them.”

Hairy grew even more serious. “I say to you, please don’t listen to the people who say that. We need help so bad. We are so miserable here and our misery never stops. Night and day it goes on. Do those people think we don’t suffer when bugs bite us? If they think this is such a happy place out here in the jungle, why aren’t they moving here to enjoy this beautiful life with us?”

Doesn’t-Miss was quiet. Then he got out of his hammock and walked down the trail…When he was too far away to hear, Hairy said to Keleewa, “Is he stupid? Doesn’t he have eyes? Can’t he see these lean-tos we call houses? Can’t he see us roam the jungle every day, searching for food that isn’t here, so we can starve slower? Can’t he see that our village is almost gone, that this move we are making now is our last hope to stay alive?”

Keleewa was slow to answer. He knew Hairy wouldn’t understand what he was about to say. “Most nabas think just like him,” Keleewa told Hairy, and shook his head because he knew he couldn’t explain why.

“Nobody’s that stupid,” Hairy snapped. “They must hate us. They think we’re animals.”

Later Hairy asked Keleewa what they had to do to get a white naba to come to their village and live with them and teach them about Yai Pada (God), offering to clear an airstrip. Kelweewa promised that if they cleared an airstrip someone would come. That day Hairy and his people began clearing the jungle, and Hairy “remembered the wife he had killed. ‘I don’t want to treat women like that any more,’ he thought. ‘I don’t want my children to be killers like me. I want them to follow the spirit of this man of peace. I want us all to be free of our past. I want to sleep again’” (p. 230).

Another time (page 202) an antro (Yanomamo word for the kind of naba who took pictures of them and wrote about them) scolded an Indian named Shortman:

“Don’t you ever speak to me in Spanish! You are a Yanomamo and will always be a Yanomamo. You have no business throwing away your true ways and trying to copy nabas with their clothes, watches, motors, and now even changing to Spanish! Don’t ever speak to me in Spanish again! You want to talk to me? Use Yanomamo.”

“What’s that in your lower lip there?” Shortman asked…

“That’s my wad of tobacco,” the antro answered.

“Where did you learn to chew tobacco that way?” asked Shortman.

“I learned it from your people.”

“You saw us chew tobacco that way and you tried it and you liked it. So you copied us, didn’t you?”

“That’s right,” the antro said, with some pride in his Indian ways.

Shortman shrugged. “If you can copy us,” he paused with a puzzled look, ”then we can copy you.”

Somehow the shamans could “see” when another person had spirits, and they had identified some of the evil nabas as having spirits that the nabas themselves didn’t know about. At one point when Shoefoot, leader of Honey village, came to America with the author, he “identified the signs and symbols of many of the spirits right here in our ‘civilized’ culture. He has no problem understanding the Columbine High School massacre or any other killing spree. The spirits of anger and hatred that own and drive a person are spirits he has known personally. He knows what it means to kill under the influence of something or someone. So when a student asks…”Why can’t you get rid of your spirits without converting to Christianity?’ his answer is simple. ‘I don’t know any other way to get rid of the spirits that are destroying us. And no other shaman does, either’” (p. 251).

(You can see a list of other posts in the 31 Days of Missionary Stories here.)

(This will also be linked to Semicolon‘s Saturday Review of Books.)

31 Days of Missionary Stories: How to minister to a culture that values treachery?

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peace childI first encountered Peace Child by Don Richardson several years ago in the Reader’s Digest Book Section. I cut it out and kept it, and some years later in college I also saw a film based on the book. I bought a new copy of the book after learning that these events took place in Indonesia, “next door” to where a missionary worked whom we knew and supported.This missionary knew Don and some of the people he ministered to.

In the early 1950s, many tribes in the jungles of Indonesia were totally unevangelized and virtually untouched by the modern world. Though “primitive,” they were not at all unintelligent: they had developed many skills for living in the jungle and had many legends and elaborate rituals ripe with meaning that had developed over the years. The Sawi, whom Don Richardson came to work with, were headhunters and cannibals, as were many of the other tribes. The Lord opened the doors for these people to accept the missionaries through their thinking at first that white people (whom they called Tuan) weren’t quite human, though they knew they were different from the spirits, through rumor that the Tuan could “shoot fire” (with guns), and through gifts the missionaries brought of such things as axes, which could fell a tree in four strokes, whereas the hand-made stone axes required about 40 strokes.

Three communities or villages settled around the new Tuan. Don spent hours listening to them, learning their language and their customs, and trying to tell them of God’s truth about creation, the entrance of sin, the promise of Deliverer, and the life of Christ. But the Sawi weren’t used to listening to tales about other cultures and grew bored…until Don’s narrative got to Judas. They listened intently to the story of Judas’s close relationship with Christ and his betrayal. They whistled with admiration. In their culture treachery and deception were virtues, the admirable stuff of legends. They valued not just cold murder, but the “fattening with friendship” of an unsuspecting victim, then delighted in telling about the look of astonishment on his face when he realized they were about to kill and eat him. They thought Judas was the hero of the story. Don was astonished and chilled and tried to explain that the betrayal was evil, that Jesus was the Son of God. But he couldn’t get through. Don and his wife Carol knew that God had some way to reach this culture and “set [themselves] to hope for some revelation.”

The next day fighting broke out between the different villages. That day and in the days to come, Don urged peace. Sawi villages usually kept some distance from each other, and Don realized that by having three villages come together to settle near him, the villagers were constantly being provoked to battle. Finally he felt that he should leave and settle somewhere else so that the Sawi would not end up destroying themselves. The Sawi protested they did not want Don to leave. Discussions began and leaders from both factions came to Don to assure him they would make peace.

The next day, the Sawi groups solemnly gathered. Don witnessed, to his amazement, a man from each of the warring groups bring one of his own children, with the mothers weeping, and exchange the children. Those in one group who would accept the child as a basis for peace were called to come and lay hands upon him, and the process was repeated in the other group. Then each child was taken to his new adoptive home. In a culture of violence and treachery, “at some point the Sawi had found a way to prove sincerity and establish peace…If a man would actually give his own son to his enemies, that man could be trusted.”

Don was horrified that his call for peace had caused this to happen, but soon began to see the parallels between the Sawi “peace child” and God’s sacrifice of His own Son. He began to tell them that Jesus was God’s own Peace Child to all men. Judas lost his status as hero because harming a peace child was one of the worst things someone could do. They began to see the inadequacy of their “best,” because peace in their culture only held as long as the peace child lived. When he died, old animosities could revive. But because Jesus rose again and was eternal, the peace He gave could never die.

It took many months for understanding and conviction to sink in, and even then they were afraid of angering the demons by departing from tradition. But when God enabled Don and Carol to revive a Sawi tribesman who was near death, the Sawi took this “as proof that the tuan’s God was powerful” and many began to believe.

Eventually more than half of the Sawi became believers, their language was reduced to writing, they were taught to read, the New Testament was translated, and some of the Sawi became teachers to their own people. Praise the Lord!!

As I have written before, some will criticize any attempt of other cultures to contact or influence primitive tribes. But, really, just as in the case of the Waodani (previously known as Aucas), if no one had stepped in, the Sawi would most likely have eventually ceased to exist, because each treacherous act of one group against another would set off a series of revenge battles with many more being killed. The Richardsons were careful not to try to impose a Western church upon the Sawi culture but to bring the gospel into theirs.

I would warn that the first several pages of the book describes a pretty ghastly deception and murder of one man to show by example what the Sawi culture was like. It is not gratuitous but it is graphic. I think this book would be perfectly suited for reading as a family or a class as well as for personal reading, but parents and teachers might want to preview that chapter to determine its appropriateness for the age level and personalities of their children. But I think anyone who reads it will get a glimpse into a missionary’s journey through adjustment to a different culture, perplexity in determining how best to share the gospel, the darkness of a culture without the Lord, and the amazing way God opens hearts and understanding to His truth. Stories like this are a part of the glorious fulfillment of the day John prophesied in Revelation 7:9-10: “After this I beheld, and, lo, a great multitude, which no man could number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, stood before the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands; And cried with a loud voice, saying, Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb.”

A few years ago I searched for and found a copy of the film I had seen back in college, Peace Child, on DVD. I enjoyed watching it again. I am amazed at how much of the story they packed into a 30-minute film. I can’t express what it does to my heart to see former cannibals at the end of the film singing gospel songs. Then last year I came across this neat video of Don and his sons going back to visit the Sawi 50 years after that first visit.

(You can see a list of other posts in the 31 Days of Missionary Stories here.)

31 Days of Missionary Stories: Whom God Has Joined

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kuhn.jpgI mentioned Isobel Kuhn yesterday. her books By Searching and In the Arena are primarily autobiographical and contain some details about her marriage, but Whom God Has Joined focuses entirely on her relationship with her husband. It was originally titled One Vision Only, and the main part of it was Isobel’s own writings sandwiched in-between biographical remarks by Carolyn Canfield. It has been long out of print and was just reprinted not too long ago without Canfield’s part.

It begins with their first notices of each other at Moody Bible Institute and the attraction they felt despite their determination not to get “sidetracked” by the opposite sex.

As they got to know one another and grew in affection, John graduated from college first and went to China. At first they were interested in different areas of China, but the China Inland Mission assigned him to the area she was interested in. When he wrote to propose, she knew what her answer would be, yet she spread the “letter out before the Lord” with a problem. She wrote, “John and I are of very opposite dispositions, each rather strong minded. Science has never discovered what happens when the irresistible force collides with the immovable object. Whatever would happen if they married one another? ‘Lord, it must occur sooner or later. Are You sufficient even for that?’” The verse the Lord gave her was Matthew 6:33: “But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.”

Isobel was assigned and sent to China where they were to be married. One of the first problems they faced was that there were two ladies with very different personalities who each took charge of “helping” the young couple with their wedding plans — and neither plan was what the young couple wanted. God enabled them to very graciously navigate that situation without offending either party.

Isobel wrote in a very engaging way that lets us know missionaries are “of like passions” as we are. We feel like we are right there with her feeling what she is feeling. She not only had the adjustments of marriage but the adjustments of a new culture. Though she was ready and willing for both, sometimes it still threw her for a short while. One example was in her natural “nesting” as a new wife. The CIM way was to live directly with the people as they did, and Isobel was willing for that. She did have a few things to pretty up her home a little bit — nothing extravagant. She was excited to receive her first women guests, and as she began to talk with them, one blew her nose and wiped the stuff on a rug; the other’s baby was allowed to wet all over another rug. Isobel knew that they were not being deliberately offensive: those were just the customs of the country people in that time and place. Yet, naturally, resentment welled up and she had a battle in her heart. She wrote, “If possessions would in any way interfere with our hospitality, it would be better to consign them to the river. In other words, if your finery hinders your testimony, throw it out. In our Lord’s own words, if thine hand offend thee, cut it off. He was not against our possessing hands, but against our using them to holds on to sinful or hindering things.”

In their early marriage they had disagreements over the couple who were their servants (in primitive cultures it was not unusual for missionaries to employ helpers for the many tasks that would have taken up so much time). They were not only lazy, but helped themselves to some of the Kuhn’s own things. John was slower to see it because he had always gotten along fine with them before he was married. At one point when Isobel brought up something the man had not done, hoping for John to correct him, John instead sided with him against her. Angry and resentful, Isobel walked out of the house, not caring where she went, just to get away from it all. Gradually she came to herself and realized she was in a little village as darkness was nearing. In that time and culture that was not done: “good women were in their homes at such an hour.” She felt as if the Lord were saying to her, “You have not considered Me and My honor in all this, have you?” and then convicting her that she had not even invited Him into the situation. She confessed that was true, asked Him to work it out, and went home. And He did.

Isobel was more artistic and exuberant by nature, and once when she was telling a story she mentioned that it was “pouring rain.” John corrected her, saying it was “merely raining.” She was indignant that her story was being interrupted by such a minor detail and said, “I didn’t stop to count the raindrops.” He replied that that was just what she should do. He felt she exaggerated and wanted to break her of it. He began “correcting” her prayer letters and stories and began to use the catch-phrase, “Did you count the raindrops?” It was discouraging and distressing to her and she felt it had a stilted effect on her writing. She tells how over time the Lord used this to help her husband appreciate his wife’s gift of imagination and expression and helped her to be more accurate. She comments,

Similar situations are not uncommon among all young couples. If we will just be patient with one another, God will work for us…Until the Lord is able to work out in us a perfect adjustment to one another, we must bear with one another, in love…With novels and movies which teach false ideals of marriage, young people are not prepared to ‘bear and forbear.’ They are not taught to forgive. They are not taught to endure. Divorce is too quickly seized upon as the only way out. It is the worst way out! To pray to God to awaken the other person to where he or she is hurting us, to endure patiently until God does it: this is God’s way out. And it molds the two opposite natures into one invincible whole. The passion for accuracy plus a sympathetic imagination which relives another’s joys and sorrows—that is double effectiveness. Either quality working unrestrained by itself would never have been so effective. But it cost mutual forgiveness and endurance to weld these two opposites into one! Let’s be willing for the cost.

With humor and poignancy Isobel tells of further challenges and adjustments in the midst of ministry and growing love for each other and growth in the Lord.

(You can see a list of other posts in the 31 Days of Missionary Stories here.)

(This will also be linked to Semicolon‘s Saturday Review of Books.)

31 Days of Missionary Stories: Isobel Kuhn Learns to Put God First

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isobelkuhnIsobel Kuhn was a missionary to China in the early to mid- 1900s, alongside her husband, John. She has written a number of books about the Lord’s working in their lives and ministry, all very readable and enjoyable. She has a very readable style and is quite honest and open about her faults and foibles, but her books are also laced with humor. By Searching was subtitled My Journey Through Doubt Into Faith and describes just that. She had grown up in a Christian family yet wasn’t truly saved. When a professor at college condescendingly told her she only believed because that was what her parents told her, she realized he was right, and thoroughly let herself go into the “worldly” activities she hadn’t been allowed to pursue. This book traces her journey to true faith in Christ and her first steps in her walk with Him. In the Arena is not exactly a sequel, but it highlights many decisions, experiences, and trials in which God manifested Himself. I reviewed both books together here.

One incident that had lasting effects occurred during Isobel’s training at Bible college. Many students did not have a quiet time or devotional time with the Lord, because they spent so much time studying the Bible. “But,” Isobel wrote in In The Arena, “reading the Scriptures for a technical grasp of the general argument in a book, and reading it as in the Lord’s presence, asking Him to speak a word on which to lean that day — those were two very different things. One was no substitute for the other. Yet I knew also that some students were trying to let classwork reading do for personal quiet time. Deadness of souls was inevitable.”

As she prayed about it, she felt led to form a habit of spending one hour a day, sometimes in two half-hour segments twice a day, “in the Lord’s presence, in prayer or reading the Word. The purpose was to form the habit of putting God in the centre of our day and fitting the work of life around Him rather than letting the day’s business occupy the central place and trying to fix a quiet time with the Lord somewhere shoved into the odd corner or leisure moment.”

She and nine others covenanted to do this for about a year and meet together monthly to worship together, confess failure, and encourage each other. She wrote, “It was never my thought that this covenant should become law. My thought was merely deliberately to form a habit which would allow the Lord to speak personally to us all the days of our lives….somehow news of [this covenant] spread, and others began to join. Then—it seems as if some human beings always have to go to extremes—some signed a covenant binding them to this hour a day for life. I did not sign it. What about days of illness or emergency, when it might be impossible to keep an hour quietly? There was no need to vow; there was only need to form a habit of putting God first.”

The following is from In the Arena and tells of how this decision was tested.

This is the background of my platform of secret choices. It was the evening of the Junior-Senior party. I was a junior and had been asked to lead the devotional with which all such parties closed. I was also on the programme as Grandma in a Dutch scene, off and on all through the banquet. The week before had been so full of work and study that I had not had one moment to sit down and prepare a devotional.  Work…had delayed me, and I arrived at the supper half-hour, hungry,  exhausted, and without any devotion prepared. Besides this, I still had half an hour due on my quiet time! After the party we juniors had to clean up and I would not get to my room til midnight — the day would be gone.

Here was my platform of secret choices. That supper half-hour. (1) Should I go down and eat my supper? (2) Should I skip supper and try to prepare the devotional message? (3) Should I put God first and give that half-hour to him? The supper bell rang, and my roommate left for the dining room. I stood for a moment irresolute; then, throwing myself on my knees by my bedside I sobbed out in a whisper, “Oh, Lord, I choose you!” As I just lay in His presence too weary to form words, the sense of His presence filled the room. The weariness and faintness all left me. I felt relaxed, refreshed, bathed in His love. And as I half knelt, half lay there, saying nothing, but just loving Him, drinking in His tenderness, He spoke to me. Quietly, but point by point, He outlined for me the devotional  message I needed to close that evening’s programme. It was an unforgettable experience and an unforgettable lesson. Putting Him first always pays.

In the exhilaration of that wonder I ran down to the banquet hall, slipped into my costume, and went through the programme. At the end, when the devotional message was needed, I gave very simply what He had told me during the supper hour. Such a quiet hush came over that festive scene, I knew He had spoken, and I was content.

More than twenty years passed. I was home on furlough and visiting the Institute. It was the day of the Junior-Senior party and a group of us were reminiscing. “One Junior-Senior party a always stands out in my memory,” said one. “I forget who led it but it was a Dutch scene and the devotional blessed my soul. I’ve never forgotten it.” She had indicated the date, so I knew. I was thrilled through and through. Of course I did not spoil it by telling  her who led that devotional. In God’s perfect workings, the instrument is [often] forgotten. It is the blessing of Himself that is remembered.

 (You can see other posts in the 31 Days of Missionary Stories here.)