“We are heading back to Ama on Wednesday,” I told Joella. “So we need to pick up a few supplies and start packing.”

We had met with our field director in the port town of Vanimo, but he was now gone, and we wanted to go, too. If we would start bright and early in the morning, we should arrive at the edge of the river around noon for our rendezvous with the boat and driver. If everything would go as planned, we would be home by 10:00 p.m. Simple.

Some from Ama who had received medical help in Vanimo were planning to return with us, so we all decided to travel together. However, a quick head count revealed there were more than 30 of us, way more than would fit in an open-back Land Cruiser like we normally used. We would need a full-sized truck, and those move much more slowly. But, okay, we would simply be a little delayed.

It took longer than expected to load up that morning, and we did not get on the road until around 10:30. We then received reports of heavy rains. The driver would not be able to take the truck all the way to the river. That meant, in addition to arriving late, we would also have to carry our supplies over a mile to the water’s edge. Each new inconvenience pushed our arrival back later and later until our driver eventually predicted it would be evening before we ever showed up.

To get to Ama from that point still required another four to five hours on a boat, plus a trip over a mountain on a logging road. With cargo loading and unloading, that last leg could easily add another two to three hours. We still had another six to eight hours to go.

“It sounds like we will be staying by the river overnight, Joella.”

“Okay. I will message our boat driver to pick us up in the morning.”

After a tedious journey over rocks and potholes, Joella looked around and recognized the tree line and other signs she had been waiting for. “We are getting close,” she told me. I bit into a juicy mango and began working my way around the large, flat seed, then reached for another. Knowing that sunset was just minutes away, and I would need energy for all the hauling we had to do, I nabbed some crackers and peanuts as well.

After the truck finally stopped, I sang and talked to people about God as we made repeated trips to the river to deliver our supplies. It was well into the night before things were finally settling down, and we needed to start thinking about where we were going to sleep. Meanwhile, other people waiting at the riverfront told us that all the local folk had fled because someone had walked into their community earlier in the day, acting strangely and shooting darts at dogs. Now, the only people still by the river were those waiting for a canoe ride out.

We had originally planned to stay with a friend who had a hut by the river, but he, too, was gone. Shall we set up our mosquito net in his home anyway? we wondered. Under the circumstances, it seemed the right thing to do, but we were unsure, so we asked those traveling with us for their perspective. Assured that they thought it was all right, we entered the vacant hut, set up our net and lay down.

Sleep did not come quickly. We could not get comfortable, and some people near the waterfront had a few lights on and a little music playing. What little sleep we did get was not the deepest. Then came the surprise.

“I’m going to eat all your hearts!” shouted a strange voice in the distance. The man who had scared off the locals was coming back!

“Quick! Turn all the lights off!” somebody whispered. Off they went, as people rushed into the jungle or huddled up in the hut with us. Deep silence fell.

We began earnestly praying. Was this midnight visitor drunk, on drugs or possessed? We did not know. But we did not want to meet him if he was out trying to cause harm. We stayed put in the hut—lights off and out of sight.

Thankfully, around 3:00 a.m., someone offered him food, which he accepted, putting him in a positive mood.

“I will give everyone a million kina!” he bragged before saying, “I am going to go get my car.” By 3:30 a.m., he was gone. There were no vehicles for miles around, so it was hard to tell where he went. But we were grateful to God for answered prayers for our protection. We were tired, but relieved.
By morning, we met our boat driver and loaded our cargo into the mission canoe. To make things more interesting, we were informed that our mission truck had broken down again and needed parts before we could drive it over the mountain to Ama. We did not want to go all the way back to town for parts and knew we could likely get them from one of the logging companies, but it was not clear how long that would take.

“Well, we can either hike up to Ama (almost 10 miles) while we wait for the parts and repairs, or we can spend the time ministering in Tipas,” I remarked to Joella. We opted for the latter, knowing that if we hiked to Ama, we would have that same hike back down again to get the parts a few days later. When the Sample family left for the U.S., they donated their mission house in Tipas to AFM, so we knew we could stay there. The people in Tipas always love it when we come, and it is no surprise when they ask us to preach.

Multiple attempts to get parts from local logging companies proved unsuccessful, even after two weeks of waiting. That was enough! “We will plan to leave Tipas around 4:00 a.m. and walk to Ama tomorrow,” I told Joella.

“That’s fine with me,” she replied, and proceeded to pack one backpack for each of us, filled with essentials. The rest of the cargo would have to wait until we could repair the truck.

By 4:45 a.m., we were in our mission canoe, heading downriver to the trailhead. At 5:30 a.m., we began walking. By 10:00 a.m., we safely arrived in Ama. It was so good to be back, and the Ama were happy and relieved to have us among them again.

Throughout our journey, we were learning the importance of three key attitudes that describe successful mission life: flexibility, flexibility and flexibility.

Thank you for your continued prayers and support as we learn to adapt to unique situations and make the best of them. God gives us opportunities to trust Him and reach others as they unfold. The work among the Ama continues—just not always on our schedule!

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