I remember the day well. We were newly arrived in PNG and had received a Twin Otter airplane charter filled with supplies for our new medical clinic as well as some of our personal goods. That particular day I was making my fourth and final trip over the mountain with the Kawasaki Mule. Heading back over the mountain with my last 350 pounds of boxes (among which were ALL of my linguistic and Bible translation materials), I ran into a rain storm. Not mist, not drizzle…but a tropical downpour. All I could think of were my “precious books” getting soaked in their boxes. Water was pooling in my lap as I drove; a river cascaded down the trail ahead of me as the Mule slid down the mountain, heavy laden with my precious books. My glasses were rain-spotted; my grip on the steering wheel was slipping; and my attitude was falling faster than the rain. Certainly, the Lord knew that I was coming over the mountain, and that my precious books were unprotected in the back of the Mule! Those precious, irreplaceable books!

As I pulled up to a soggy stop in front of the house, I politely screamed for help in carrying my precious books into the house out of the downpour. The water-logged boxes were beginning to come apart, and I wanted those precious books out of the rain!

After unloading it all, and spreading the precious books out to dry, my son (who is also my co-worker and my predecessor in this field) laughingly reminded me of where we live: A tropical RAINFOREST.

Sometimes we surprise ourselves by our own lack of “insight to the obvious.” Many things blind us to the realities that surround, not the least of which is our zeal. Too many times I have lit my own tail feathers and gone off writing in the sky, only to find out too late that the smoke of my sky-writing was at the expense of something I could not afford to lose.

Is it possible that God just might have a purpose I don’t understand when it rains, even if it rains on my precious books? In the weeks and years that followed, I found that God had something much more precious than my books in mind. He had people in mind. And He was using the rain to work on me.

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the LORD.

For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.

For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater:

So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it. (Isaiah 55:8-11)

Some lessons are learned the hard way. No lesson from Father is wasted. Books are not precious; people are. All it took was a tropical downpour to teach me a lesson.

So what part of “tropical rainforest” did I not understand? Better make sure that we clarify that part in all of our future missionary recruiting literature. We certainly wouldn’t want any more new missionaries coming over here and being surprised by the rain.

Off-roading is a passion for some people. Off-roading for us is the way to get around. In our area of the jungle, the government began a road project about 30 years ago, building a road between two points in the jungle…but never connected it to the outside world. From the end of our road to a road that goes to town is a three-day hike. We live on a road that goes nowhere.

My son Matt got a used Kawasaki Mule (something like a golf cart on steroids), and the Lord enabled him to airlift it into the tribe. Now I’m not sure what the Mule was supposed to do when they designed it, but we use it for every purpose we can find. It hauls fuel drums like a fuel truck. Like a logging truck, it carries timber of every size in lengths up to 14 feet. As cargo hauler, it brings our supplies over the mountain from the airstrip. As a church bus, it carries people to church. Quite often it transports sick or injured people as an ambulance. And sometimes, it serves as a hearse.

A mission worker dubbed the Kawasaki Mule, “Skippy the Bush Kangaroo” for the way it bounces along the road. (There was an Australian TV show of the same name years ago…with a theme song. Yes, we sometimes sing that theme song when we drive down the trail.) We know what it can carry, and we don’t overload it. Call it  “Mule” or call it “Skippy,” the little machine does more things than what it was designed to do.

In all the duties and opportunities that come into your life, can you say the same? If the load seems to be too much, remember Philippians 4:13: “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.” The load you are carrying, you don’t carry it alone. Believer, God Himself promised to put no more on you than you can bear (1 Corinthians 10:13). Though the load is heavy, He is there with you. He will never leave you, and He will never forsake you. And He reminds you to come to Him, for there is the place where He can give you rest. You might not have your own theme song, but I’m certain He’ll put a song in your heart.

With that in mind, Skippy, let’s help carry someone else’s burden.

“…where I heard a language that I understood not.” –Psalm 81:5

When we were students at Baptist Bible Translators Institute, we studied dozens of different languages. From Albanian to Zapotec, we listened to, mimicked, wrote, and analyzed their sound patterns, their tones, and their rhythms. Several times, as we were being swamped by learning all the possible stops, fricatives, nasals, and affricates, we were calmly assured by our instructors: “When you get to the field, you only have to learn one language and the sounds associated with that one language.”

So when we moved in among the Kamea a few years ago, our thought was that we would only have to learn Kamea (an unwritten dialect). Then my son announced that he was leaving early on furlough, and that we would be holding the fort until he and his family returned in a year or so. Suddenly, Lena and I realized that now we also needed to learn the trade language, Melanesian Pidgin, to function outside of our tribe.

Since Pidgin is a written language, largely based on English, we thought, “This won’t be too bad. We can use written and audio Pidgin materials and lessons, and we should be proficient in no time at all.” Famous last words.

I developed study cards for both Kamea and Pidgin. When we flew out for supplies, I bought Pidgin story books to supplement our self-taught Pidgin language course. Only a few of our contacts in the jungle speak English, so we were forced to use Pidgin and Kamea to communicate. Then it happened; we were mixing all three languages! There were days where we seemed to be making some progress, and the sentences, childish as they were, really flowed. The next day, we would slaughter the language so badly that people even cocked their heads like a dog hearing a strange sound for the first time.

Communication is so vital to us in our daily lives; but how often we take it for granted when we live among those who speak our native tongue. Find yourself placed among those of a “strange speech,” and you long for the ability to communicate your thoughts clearly and powerfully. For any missionary who has to cross language and culture barriers to perform his ministry, there should be a team of prayer warriors back home holding the ropes for him. Few things feel more isolating than an inability to communicate with or to understand what is being said by those around you.

A missionary friend in Hungary reminded me that, “The Lord GOD hath given me the tongue of the learned, that I should know how to speak a word in season to him that is weary:” (Isaiah 50:4) Of course, that’s easy for him to say; he had already learned to speak Russian before beginning his language studies in Hungary!

The truths of God’s Word are the most important things to be communicated. Pray for those who must learn a new language in order to carry on their ministry. It is hard to tell people about the love of God while their heads are cocked at an angle!

Interruptions are the key to the crucified life. –Jeanne Guyon

Planning. Scheduling. Organizing. These are mainstays of the Western mindset. I must plan, I must schedule, and I must organize. Then I moved to the jungle.

More often than not, our days are unplanned here. Not that we don’t plan, mind you. It’s just that, well, things come up.

Medical missions is part of our outreach ministry. Since everyone in our region knows that our clinic treats everyone for everything, they show up every day. Never mind that clinic days are Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday. The only time they usually have to wait is on Sunday, because we don’t see anyone on that day until after our church services are over.  “Closed except for emergencies” is what we say; and what isn’t an emergency? Malaria, typhoid, knife wounds…all of these cannot wait until business hours.

Today we were supposed to work on language learning. Then two patients needed to be transported over the mountain to the hospital. Then came another. By the time I was back at the mission station, my language helpers were gone. So what did I learn in language today? I guess I spent the majority of the day speaking in the two languages we are learning because our patients and their families don’t speak English. The little boy who walked with me to the village taught me how to say “We (two) are walking to the village,” along with some other words and phrases.

More importantly, I learned (again) that interruptions are the key to the crucified life. My plans are always to be subject to my Master Planner. His wisdom is infinitely higher than mine, and His path is much more worthwhile than mine. I will continue to plan, schedule, and organize; but daily I will lay these “desires” at the Cross of Christ that I may know Him better, and that my life may be more like His. God desires that I be conformed to the image of His Son; and I have noted that in my life, He engineers the conforming.

Let’s start tomorrow’s plans with a “Lord willing, we shall…” and allow Him to interrupt us as He pleases.

Daybreak refuel of P2-TMK by our pilot, Matt Allen

The day started at 4 AM as we got up and packed supplies to head over the mountain to the airstrip. Actually, it had started before that.

Kids at Komako

Take your vaccine!

I’ll take my vaccine!

Whooping cough immunizations

Fast forward 9 hours…Lena had seen 159 patients by herself. 87 cases of whooping cough (active!). 147 total immunizations. Jack spent the whole day translating for us.

Line at the end of the day

And in answer to prayer, the wind died down at around 3:30 pm. Lena and I were prepared to spend the night at Komako. OK, we weren’t, because we didn’t bring a sleeping mat or a blanket…but we had psyched ourselves up to that’s what needed to be done. No worries. Be flexible.

Jack & Esila Naudi

Jack will commissioned by Kotidanga Baptist Church on next Sunday (March 10). He will be the first missionary sent out by the church that Matt planted back in 2004. This national church is going to support him for the equivalent of $75 USD per month. We’re all excited, and we consider it a blessing to have seen the place our teammates are moving to.

Jason, Cherith, & Grace Ottosen

Yeah, it was a crazy day at Komako. But maybe we helped lay a small part in the foundation of the ministry that will follow. Pray for Jason, Jack, and their families as they begin this new venture soon.