I rarely take advantage of the literature the Adventist church publishes. I'm not exactly lacking for reading material, so the magazines and periodicals don't usual work their way to the top of the list.
But as research for religion classes go, I found the story of a family based in Papua New Guinea in the Adventist Frontiers magazine while hunting for recent ADRA action. It's a tragic story- terrifying- of a woman who, while doing mission work in the jungle, lost her husband in an accident. They were there with their two little girls, and her husband- John- was a doctor. She describes a man coming to her door in the rain telling her "John is dead." She says, "No! John is not dead," but receives the same answer, "Your John is dead." Killed by a falling tree.
She describes sitting on top of a hill hours after the news, unable to evacuate the country quickly because of dependence on mainland support to come retrieve them. I can't imagine the feelings of being in a foreign place and being rendered helpless and consumed by sadness of losing someone you've committed your life to, far from family and friends. I can't imagine losing anyone for that matter! And I always think that missions are so touched by God that nothing bad can happen to missionaries- but it does happen.
While alone on the hill, she cries out to God saying she cannot get through the tragedy by herself and begs for peace. Almost immediately a peacefulness overwhelms her and she is able to retrace the steps of their last year in the country God has led them to. She remembers the purpose of her husband's mission and still prays today that God will send another much-needed missionary to the people in New Guinea.
My dad has told me the story a few times of when we had just arrived home from Kenya after serving two mission years. We had no money, no established home, no income. Just a wife and two tiny kids to take care of plus some suitcases...and he cried out to God in distress, questioning the circumstances. Then he felt heat on the top of his head, like a warm hand pressing down & knew it was the peace of God telling him it would be okay.
I can understand how we can forget our purpose- God's purpose for us- in moments when we are helpless and have lost so much that we have worked hard for, when just breathing is a lucky accomplishment. And perhaps in those times, the peace we pray for comes in God clearing the sometimes dangerous and disheartening paths we walk so we can see the light brightening the road He has encouraged us to walk towards Him.
