“We are going to kill you!” Two Knives screamed. “We want money! Lots of it! And if we don’t find it, we are going to kill you!”
The threats kept coming as the old truck rattled down the jungle trail. My right elbow was injured to the point that the whole arm was basically useless. The left still worked, however, so I could still use it in an escape. If I could just find a way! Should my adopted son and I try to attack them?
Two hours later, once the escape was complete, I made my way back to town. David White, a missionary colleague, saw me after I climbed out of the truck and immediately knew something was wrong. He walked over and quietly stood there. Still in a state of shock, I carefully shared all the crazy details, the heavy rains, the portion of the road that had collapsed into the river, the five masked bandits that had leapt from behind some banana stalks and pointed their guns at the windscreen, screaming for me to stop, the hijacking of the mission vehicle, my three passengers and I being forced into the back, and the fearful journey into the forest with Two Knives constantly yelling that he was going to kill us.
I was tired, so tired. For the past several months, it seemed like one bad thing had happened after another, with no breaks in between. And now this. With just two weeks left in the country, we had been hijacked, had guns pointed at us, and the bandits had taken our supplies. It was only by a miracle of God that we had gotten the most critical items back. But that is another story.
“How long have you been in this country?” David asked. That question, asked at this time, seemed to me to be an invitation to complain.
“Eleven and a half years!” I replied. And as I did, I began telling David of all the challenges and things that had gone wrong during those years. It was a long list. And this was not the first time I had had a run-in with angry men wielding guns. Not the first time I had been robbed, either. There was the time that bandits pointed their . . .
“Wow!” David responded. “To think that God has safely brought you through 11-and-a-half years of that!”
Those words were like medicine to my soul. They pushed me to remember that I had, indeed, safely made it through challenge after challenge, and even now, after being hijacked and threatened with death, here I was standing just a few feet away from my family and friends. I was still in one piece, and although it would take time for my arm to heal, I had no holes.
But his medicine also helped me to remember the good times, and there were many. There was the time when angels silently guided a stranger and me to meet in the middle of the massive rainforest to accomplish a secret plan that God had been working on. On another occasion, a few friends and I were surprised when, deep in the forest, native dancers unexpectedly ran out of a village to welcome us. A couple of hours later, another invitation led to shrieks, tears and a remarkable opportunity to share the gospel.
Then there was the community leader who instructed the youth that he wanted me out of the area, but a few hours later, he offered free land and appealed for a permanent training school to teach those same youth what he had initially feared. The list just keeps going. There were numerous incidents with venomous snakes, a forest fire and wild pig attacks. So many stories! Stories of a snake with an itchy bum, stories of human attacks, village attacks, angel dreams and people walking out of a tree. And through it all, my wife and I came to love God more and more, and to love the people He had shared with us. Such a blessing!
How many times had I gone to bed at night and stared into the darkness, completely shocked at what God had done? And each of those incidents bore a lesson: a lesson in what it means to work with God and angels; a lesson in love; a lesson in how the Holy Spirit communicates; and in the multitude of gifts He has up his sleeve. There were lessons on how to communicate with people in primitive communities and with educated people in town. Lessons in what discipleship looks like in the rainforest and how that compares to discipleship in cities. Lessons in Bible studies and how easy it is to think people understand what you are saying when, in fact, they think the opposite.
Several years ago, I realized that I was getting older, and when my time comes to die, all of my stories would be lost. I did not mind if some of them were forgotten, like the time I sat on a toilet and it tipped over, or the time I was roasting with fever and had terrible nightmares and sharp pains in my chest every time I took a thimble full of air or let it out. But all the crazy stories that have valuable lessons in doing God’s work—no, I did not want them to disappear. In fact, I felt like God gave me those experiences and then preserved my life, precisely so I could share them. In that sense, they were not really mine. They were yours. So I wanted you to have them.
Now seemed a good time to share them because they all have valuable mission lessons, and there is still so much mission work to do. There are billions of people in unreached people groups who have nobody to share the gospel with them. Many of those who could go as missionaries do not, because they are not sure what it would involve, or whether they have what it takes. My wife and I felt the same way before we went. But we figured if we were committed and truly invested every talent God gave us, He would do as Christ promised and give us more. And He did! But did we have what it took when we first went out? No. Not even close! We did not get it until after we arrived, and many times it was not until we needed it. But the fact that we got those gifts does not mean we did not have to work for it, or that we did not have to experiment and learn the hard way. But that was okay. Sometimes learning that way helps a guy remember it longer, and he does not just know what works, he also learns why.
When the time comes for you to go, there is no need for you to repeat all the mistakes we made, but I do want you to take advantage of some of the precious insights we gleaned. You are going to make mistakes, lots of them. That is just part of the journey, and we cannot let fear of them paralyze us. But if we can learn from others and avoid a few, well, that just makes good sense. So, here is what I did. I wrote three books and filled them with all the best stories I could remember. Then, at the back of each chapter, I tacked on a little section with a few of these hard-earned lessons. I added a few extra stories in there as well.
The stories in these three books are intended for everybody with an interest in missions. Nevertheless, I have referred to this series as Before You Go (which is my hope). I trust you will find them as interesting to read as we did in the actual experiences.
