Off to Congo

In another post, I spoke of God's calling on our lives to pick up and move to Africa. Fire was the catalyst. So today I would like to take you back to that post fire year of 1978 as we made preparations to go.

Our children at the time were 10, 8, and 5. We loved to sing and dove into many of the newly composed Gaither hits for kids. Shawn chose It's a Miracle; Nicol, I Am A Promise, and Todd, Jesus I Heard You Had a Big House. In July of that same year, we made our way to the Gaither studios in Indiana and recorded these heartfelt tunes for posterity and as a thank you to our supporters who were coming on board one by one. Jim's rich, velvety voice rendered powerful expressions of What Grace is This, Saved by Grace, and Precious Lord. He and I sang a duet, and I played the piano version of How Rich I Am.

All of our children began singing at age 2 and performed publicly from then on. Todd's fee was gum or a quarter by the time he was three. He moved more than one audience with his rendition of The Blood. Casual suits were in, and he wore one the same color as his dad. One day as we were preparing to participate in the missions conference at Calvary Baptist Church of Hazel Park, our home church, he looked at us and said, "I sure hope they don't ask me to preach today." He was four years old.

Jim and I had been in ministry all of our married life, first at a local church in Dearborn and then in music evangelism. From November of 1977, when the fire took place, to December of 1978, I spent most of my time in contemplation, accompanying my husband to various churches, letting them know of our new direction, inviting them to partner with us in winning souls in Africa, and pleading for their prayers.

Going to the mission field for me was like going to Mars. It was something I had always avoided, run from, and prayed would never happen. But the fire was a turning point, and the Lord made it very clear that Africa was where he wanted our family. I knew we would be safer there than anywhere else, despite the isolation we would experience living in the Interior. With a combination of great resignation, a lot of pondering and praying countered with kicking and screaming inside, I submitted to this strange, new venture.

On December 4, 1978, one year after we began deputation (raising support), which included over 50,000 miles of travel, we boarded Al Italia and made our way to Rome for an overnight. We were en route to Africa! Everyone was excited about staying in Italy and eating at the hotel restaurant. Our anticipation soon turned to half nausea when they brought fish with the head still on and other scrumptious delectables (not!) to our table. The next day we landed in Kinshasa, the capital of the country which was then known as Zaire, formerly Belgian Congo. As we stepped on to African soil, "the mission field," the ultimate God was leading us to, I said "Ugh"! Less than a month before, we found out another baby was coming. As we deplaned, the heat, humidity and body odors, latrine, and stench of garbage piled high wherever sent my head reeling.

I had always believed that the will of God fit like a leather glove. What I didn't know was that it sometimes takes years before the leather actually conforms to the hand. With more use comes more conformity, a relaxed fit that allows the hand free movement. I was expecting an immediate sleek, smooth fit.

I also had a deception about foreign service. I believed it was always for other more dedicated and more qualified. You know, those who were called as a teenager to serve Christ on foreign soil. Those who set their face like a flint to experience that goal. Those who took courses in college geared toward being a missionary. Those who contemplated serving the Lord in this capacity from an early age on. I was none of the above. I felt totally unworthy and inept. And you know what? I was. God doesn't ask us to follow Him because we are worthy and capable. His eyes scan the earth, running to and fro, looking for the ones who love Him. I did love Him, and that was my driving force.

With no one to meet us at the airport, we hired taxis to transport us and our baggage to the only hotel we were familiar with--the one we had stayed in when visiting Congo in 1969--which was run by Jim's Uncle Howard. We were totally unprepared for what we found: One gray towel for all 5 of us. Walls which hadn't seen paint in years. Sheets that hadn't been bleached in forever. Cockroaches and lizards everywhere. Unfiltered, unboiled water. Diarrhea soon followed.

The next morning we walked over to the International Church and introduced ourselves by invitation during the morning service, as was the custom for all newcomers to Kinshasa. Jim explained how his mother was waiting for us in the bush (450 miles due east of the capital) and shared our ministry goals at Nkara, our mission station. The next morning a missionary doctor by the name of Dan Fountain took Jim aside and told him that just that morning he had confirmed the fact that Jim's mom had died 3 weeks before our arrival and was buried in the city of Kikwit, 60 miles from where we would be living. I remember Jim almost collapsing on the short brick wall that made for a makeshift porch just outside our room. Marcella Smith had gone ahead to prepare the way for us. Our letter notifying the African church that we were coming, and their letter notifying us of Marcella's death crossed in the mail.

A couple of hours later the same day, the Lord sent an angel of mercy. Mrs. Jody Voth, whose husband was employed by the American Government in the division of US Aid, came to our rescue. She said she heard our testimony in the morning service, and as Jim was speaking, the Lord told her to come and get us. We were to stay at their home until things were in order for us to go on into the bush. Though I had never laid eyes on the woman, (I am shy by nature) I ran to pack the few belongings we had taken out of our suitcases. I couldn't wait to get out of that flea-ridden pit. For the next 7, yes I said 7! weeks we lived with the Voths, who provided a haven until we could finish the legal requirements for entering the country and await word of arrival of our 7 crates, 30 barrels and Suburban that had been shipped from America the previous October.

The Voths' home had all the amenities we so enjoyed--air conditioning, carpeted floors, and electricity 24 hours a day. Living in the bush would be a far different story. I want to say something here about Jody and Lee Voth. Had they not taken us in the way they did with open arms, I honestly don't know where we would be today. Jody obeyed the bidding of God. She not only listened to His voice, she acted on His direction. What a great risk she took, not knowing us, inviting 5 more people to occupy their home. Her obedience amazes me even today; it amazes our whole family. Going back to the Congo Jim left in the fifties was such a shocker; that Congo no longer existed. The Voths provided stability and refuge to us. They introduced us to the missionary community. They prayed for us. They loved us. They accepted us. They encouraged us. For the next two years whenever we traveled to Kinshasa to pick up our food shipment (450 miles to go to order our food, which had to be flown in over a thousand miles away from South AFrica), we always stayed with the Voths, who had made another move by now to a home with all the amenities we enjoyed after our arrival, plus an added swimming pool. It was heaven on earth. When their tour was up, we were heartbroken. We had become family.

No wonder the Lord tells us to be hospitable. So many times I have thought of time after time when they calmed our hearts through prayer meetings, when they allowed Jim to hold a Bible study in their living room, when they laughed at a new challenge we were facing instead of treating it like it was the end of the earth. When they assured us God's Hand was on our lives and that we could do it in His strength. Thank you Jody and Lee for the many mercies and grace you extended to this scarred, pregnant, city girl who so needed everything you offered us. You are so loved and appreciated. Someday we will stand around the throne and share the profits of serving the Lord together. Without you, it could have been a very different story. Thank you for rescuing us, total strangers. We came with no references! You gave cup after cup of water to us in Jesus' Name. You shared your food with us. You shared your hearts with us. You are so dear to our hearts. We thank my God upon our every remembrance of you, blessed ones.