This past spring, so many good things were happening in our village and the surrounding areas that it took all we had to keep up with what the Lord was doing. A new church group in Kebani had arisen, and we were learning how we could best support them. Dale Goodson, our AFM field director, visited us and conducted several successful training events. Shortly afterward, I taught a one-week “Introduction to Bible Prophecy” class, which was attended by members of all the area churches and new groups. It went so well that we scheduled a follow-up class for a few weeks later. In addition to all this, we were also trying to assist with three church building projects and the numerous day-to-day requests that came our way. Midori and I talked many times during this period about how blessed we felt to be in the middle of the exciting things God was doing.
Just when everything seemed to be going incredibly well, my mom called. My dad, always active and energetic, was losing weight and in a lot of pain. He had little appetite and less energy. Tests showed that he had acute kidney failure and most likely multiple myeloma. Mom felt overwhelmed.
I asked a doctor friend to review Dad’s lab work and test results. He kindly told me that it did not look good and Dad probably would not be around for much longer. I sat at my desk and cried as the realization sank in that I was losing my dad. I felt helpless, being so far away while my parents were going through this, and everything happening right when things were really taking off on the project—so many conflicting emotions.
On June 7, after a quick round of packing, we waved goodbye to all our Gogodala friends and flew to Port Moresby. Less than 48 hours later, we boarded a plane back home, arriving just in time. Our family was able to talk with Dad for about four days. The last week of his life, we had very little communication with him and were, with the help of hospice, doing all we could to keep him comfortable. On Sabbath, June 21, around 1:00 a.m., I awoke from sleeping next to Dad and gave him his medication. I knelt next to his bed and prayed for him, telling him how much I loved him and appreciated all he had done for me over the years. Then I asked that, if he could hear me, to squeeze my hand. Dad squeezed it without hesitation. So, I decided to sit and read to him from his Bible and “Steps to Christ” for a while. I will never forget that special moment. Around 2:20 p.m., he passed to his rest, eleven days after we arrived in the States.
Midori and I felt like we had gotten whiplash. One week, we were in the village praising God for the amazing progress of His work there, and two weeks later, we found ourselves back in the United States, trying to comprehend life without Dad. But after much prayer, here is what we know for sure. First, God is in control and is working out circumstances for our good and the good of our Gogodala family. Second, God called us to work among the Gogodala, and we have not sensed any change in our assignment though things might look a little different moving forward.
None of this caught God by surprise, and we know that He is working out His master plan for us and the Gogodala. Please pray that our Gogodala church family receive a burden to grow God’s church in their tribe, beyond to the surrounding tribes, and beyond that to the ends of the earth.
