In celebration of SEAPC’s 30th anniversary, throughout the next 12 months, we will be sharing stories and testimonies of God’s goodness and faithfulness from friends around the nations! Each of these testimonies is like a stone of remembrance (Joshua 4) for all that He has accomplished. We are taking this year not just to look to the past, but also to praise God for what He has in store for us and those we serve in the years to come. We hope you enjoy these stories our friends have prepared each week!
When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and stars which you have set in place, what is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them?
Psalm 8:3
In my seventy-one years, I’ve seen a lot of moons and many, many stars. Of course, it’s always the same tableau, but depending on where in the world one is looking, there are some differences. It also helps to have not only physical eyes, but more importantly spiritual eyes, wide open to truly see.
Over the Amazon River at night, there are a myriad of insects buzzing about, strange noises in the jungle, and the lap of waves against the hull of the boat. They can be taken at face value. Or not. One night, after visiting a small village, my heart ached.
Right beside the rudimentary huts where the villagers lived, a clearing held a small alter overgrown with weeds as the rainforest crept in to reclaim it. Once, they said, a priest came to them, but the isolation proved to be too great, and he went home.
Since that time, these people had combined a variety of local beliefs in animism with a vague sprinkling of false ideas about God. They did not know Jesus. Cut off from much of the developing world, it seemed unlikely anyone would return to share their grueling life. Or to guide them to a saving knowledge.
Standing on the boat later that night, I had all of nature around me. But in my mind’s eye all I could see were the people I had met earlier. My mind wrestled with my heart:
I’ll come back and live here. I like to be alone; it will be fine.
Who needs internet? God’s unspoiled Creation is here.
I came on a vacation, but maybe this is the Call I never really expected.
With my Bible and God’s grace, Jesus can become real here.
Then came the other thoughts:
What am I thinking? This is crazy.
I have a husband, kids, a job.
There’s no health care, stores, entertainment, or ice cream here.
I’m not equipped to teach or minister to anyone.
As this battled raged, I looked into the heavens. Although no artificial light source existed, the moon illuminated the nighttime sky. The dark expanse, dotted with stars, looked different than at home. I knew, because someone had told me, that I was seeing the Southern Cross constellation in the Milky Way which is visible south of the equator. A sign?
I prayed for the tribe that had no spiritual guidance. For God to take me wherever He wanted me to go. And for the provision and heart to go there. The humidity had my clothes damp. Tears wet my face.
I looked up again to the full moon, hanging heavy and brilliant above the water. It shone a beacon of light from the heavens across the river. Another sign? I believed that it was. But not one pointing me to a life in Peru. That pure light bathed me in certainty. I would—somehow, eventually—serve God. His promises remained as true as the day he declared, “Let there be lights in the sky…” in Genesis. His light would shine in me. I had to walk away until he finished separating the light from the darkness in me.
In the end, I went to bed, finished the trip, and flew home to real life. For a long time, it bothered me that I hadn’t gone back to live along the banks of the Amazon River. Guilt is a powerful emotion. Had I ignored my call? Had I reneged on my promise to follow Jesus anywhere? Had I misinterpreted the light of `the moon in my midnight musings?
And then, SEAPC. The heart God gave me that night for unreached people didn’t end on the deck of a boat in a humid jungle. It grew until ready to be nurtured by Matt Geppert as I began medical mission travels. Although short-term, these trips fulfilled the call embedded by the light of the moon in a season when I barely knew how to recognize God’s voice.
After many medical trips, Matt met with me to discuss the latest one. He suggested there might be more for me to do within the SEAPC organization, to build medical teams. Once again, my brain sent me messages in an attempt to override my heart:
You’re retired. Why take on more responsibility at your age?
It’s easier to be a follower than a leader; let things alone.
I don’t have any skills for ministry like these folks.
What if I fail?
After much prayer, my heart overrode my head. I joined the SEAPC team to do whatever was needed. Some days it’s as part of the Missions Team, helping to plan trips, multiply teams, and provide medical expertise. Other days, it’s as part of the Multiplication Team, writing articles, blogs, or whatever else needs a literary touch.
But every day, it’s about serving the Lord.
I continue to look to the sky; I simply love it. The clouds, white during the day and dark blue at night; the firmament cerulean blue and dove gray, the sun shining its pale or brilliant yellow light. And the moon. A beacon of God’s hope and love that chases the darkness is a metaphor for His inextinguishable light and goodness over the shadow of evil.
How long can I serve this way? Everyone has a shelf life, after all. But SEAPC and friends have shown me clearly that as long as the Lord calls, I will answer. God set the moon in place. He is mindful of even me—he cares for me.
I continue, these many years later, to pray for the people along the Amazon. And know that although I didn’t return, they are not forgotten by God. He is mindful of them. He cares for them. And he shines his light over them every night.
