When my dad surrendered to go to Papua New Guinea, he did not feel worthy to be a missionary. He simply surrendered to go there to help those bush pastors build churches in the Wiru tribe. His call took him to the farthest inhabited village in that tribe. It took 14 hours to get there from the nearest "town." And there God made him into a missionary. From that day until now, my dad has been driven with one single purpose--to see as many of those bush people saved as he can before the rapture hits.
Every time my Dad left the house, he witnessed to people. Walking the trails with him, I knew we would stop each time we passed someone so that Dad could ask them about their soul. This really made an impact on me growing up. I lost count of the many times my Dad joyfully told me, "Jess, being a missionary is the greatest thing in the world!" And I saw in my parents what being a missionary really is. They lived it. It didn't matter how far they had to walk to get to the place they called home. It didn't matter that we didn't have electricity, refrigeration or a real stove. It didn't matter that we had to haul our water in buckets and wash our clothes out by hand. The outhouse didn't matter. The knee-deep mud didn't matter. Malaria and typhoid countless times didn't matter. All that mattered was seeing those precious souls come to know Jesus Christ. And that is still what matters most to them.
They have lived among five different tribes in the last 21 years, doing the same things over and over--witnessing, passing out tracts, market preaching, baptizing, and building churches.
|Mom with Galu |
After this lady got saved, she looked at us with tears coursing down her cheeks, and said, "Thank you for coming to my country to tell me how I can go to Heaven." That makes it worth everything!
I would not be where I am today if it were not for parents who taught me to love God and the mission field. "Thank You, Lord, for Godly parents, and thank You for letting me grow up on that mountain in a far away land." Surely, I have a goodly heritage.
|The view from behind our house where I used to live|