Colombia

I was thirteen when God called me to be a missionary oversea. Our church was very missionary minded. Lost people were put before our eyes in many ways, people, pictures of lands far away, and God’s heart for those who had not heard the gospel. Every day people die without hearing the story of Jesus. Too many Unreached peoples when we have had the opportunity over and over to accept or reject Jesus. Most Christian workers stay in the US. Our family hosted many missionary families. We enjoyed giving up our bed and hearing their stories of faraway places. The Lion family living in Africa for one! My heart responded over and over, Lord send me.

As a young mom I wanted many children. I had many miscarriages in Colombia. My disappointment just kept repeating with loss after losses. One time we were at a campground outside the city in a very remote and beautiful area. I started to bleed so they laid me out on the floor of our red jeep for a rough ride on a bumpy dirt road, through police check points to get me to a small clinic.

They had to call many homes to find this one Doctor. It took hours and my Spanish was not so good. I was filled with confusion. A dear Christian boy, Antonio came in to sit with me. He became a mentor and traveled with Dwight. In later days. He brought me comfort and knew a bit of English or at least translated for me. The doctor was very crude. The baby is dead! Too many children anyway. You are lucky, oh no I had been waiting over 4 years for another child. I was carried on a stretcher upstairs, for surgery. Listening to those newborn babies cry just tore at my heart. But God knew, he was there in my loneliness in a foreign country. We could not reach our family to pray, no international calls for many days. We felt cut off from our familiar world. But God sees, he sent his believers to comfort and his spirit to heal.