Aamilah’s Dream

Aamilah is not her real name for to tell her name would likely mean death for Aamilah or her children.    She’s from a village called Akutuh which again is not the real village for to tell the real name of Akutuh would be double jeapardy.   She’s from a region nearly 4,500 miles away from where I heard of her.    But that’s the even stranger part of the story.    I was in a village where Men wear grass loin clothes and women wear grass skirts yet Aamilah wore full mulsim attire.    What was she doing in this place?   Even more important why was she in our Adventist Church worshiping with us?

On July 28th, 2014 Ramadan had drawn to an end.   During this month - long fast Aamilah had petitioned Allah 5 times a day for help.   Aamilah’s husband had died from an unknown cause just 2 months earlier leaving her a widow of 26 years old  with a 3 and 5 year old.   Fortunately, for Aamilah, her husbands businesses has left her with enough money to provide for their needs.   But for a Muslim woman in Akutuh to be single was not considered to be an option.   Likely the teacher in the Mosque would try to arrange a second marriage for one of the already married older men in Akutuh.    She dreaded that day.   

“Oh Allah hear my cry.   Can I not just remain single?    Show me your ways Allah!”   She cried.

As a very faithful Muslim woman she determined to read the Quran from cover to cover over Ramadan.    She had large sections of the Quran memorized and had read the Quran more than 40 times but this time she determined to dig deeper and learn more.   One day she noticed a verse in the Qur’an that says, “The people of the Book know this as they know their own sons; but some of them conceal the truth which they themselves know.” 2:146   She for some reason was bothered by this text.     She contemplated it all day as she fasted.    When the sun went down that night she hurried to her fathers house to ask him what he thought it meant.    She knew that Muslims long interpreted that the “people of the book” were those who believed in the first five books of the Bible.  Jews and followers of Abrahams ways.    “Who are these people and what is this truth that they are concealing, Daddy?”   

“Don’t worry about it my little Aamilah!”   her father had said.    “Just be a good Muslim and let the men determine this.”

But that night she whispered a prayer that would change her life forever.    “Allah of heaven and earth, the one and only God, show me what this hidden truth is so that my son and daughter can know just what it is.”

Aamilah drifted off to sleep.   Around 3 am she dreamed an amazing dream.     In her dream she saw Allah’s Angel pointing to a certain spot on the map of Papua.    The map zoomed in until she saw the very village the Angel was pointing at.   Then she saw people studying the Torah, those first 5 books that the Qur’an refers to again and again.    Her eyes were then drawn to a section on the page that they were studying.    The words seemed to be highlighted or glowing.    The angel said, “Memorize this dream and the words of this passage and I will show you Allah’s ways.  Now go with your son and daughter to this place in Papua. These people will teach you all the words of the People of the Book.”

Aamilah awoke to the sounds of people still celebrating the end of Ramadan.    Mosques blared, from their speakers, a continual prayer of thanksgiving to Allah.   “Aamilah, Aamilah come lets go to the womens prayers.”   Her mother said.    Obediently even though she was a Widow and 26 years old she followed.
It took Aamilah several months to gain courage to leave Akutuh.    Money was not the issue but how as a single mom could she leave.    Then one day the bankers from her husbands business dealings called with a settlement statement for one of the businesses that had sold.   They asked her to travel to Jakarta.    Aamilah asked, “I am a widow. . . May I bring my children, too?”    Of course she could have left her children with her parents but she wasn’t thinking of the parents.   She was thinking of her dream and prayer she had continually been praying since.”  “Show me your ways Allah! and Help me to find a way to get to the village in Papua.”

November 12, 2014 She and her now 4 and 6 year old boarded the boat bound for Jakarta.    “Mommy why can’t we stay with grandma?”  her daughter asked.    Aamilah nervously changed the subject.    So far she had managed the impossible which was,  Traveling alone as a widow with her 2 children.    But then Jatung her teenage cousin boarded the ship just a few minutes before departure.    Aamilah could see him coming up the ramp.   He texted her.    “Aamilah, I need to give you something you forgot.”    She was worried to answer the text lest it was a trap.    How did the family even know?    She had told them a few stories to throw them off.    “She’d be back in a month or so.”     “She has another cousin going with her once she reached the nearby city” she lied.     Aamilah didn’t answer the text and Jatung jumped off the ship just as the ramp was being raised.   Evidently, he had not wanted to go along and perhaps had a letter for a friend of family in the main town 3 hours away.    She would never know because Jatung never did text again.

Aamilah made it to Jakarta just fine and went directly to the Bank.    The settlement of the funds was sent to a new bank account that had branches in Papua, too.  She made sure of that.     Aamilah then arranged to continue on to Papua by ship.   Papua is perhaps another 2,500 miles further to the east.    After more than 2 continual weeks on a boat with only a half day break in Jakarta Aamilah arrived in southern Papua.    She asked local Muslims about the area she had seen in her dream.     They said, “Oh you can’t go there because those are just native people.   There is no mosque there.”

But persistently Aamilah with her 2 children pressed on.   By now she had told her children of her dream at the end of Ramadan.     They readily embraced their mothers search for more truth.   Then her son came running up from his new Papuan friend.    “Mommy, that boy, my new friend, is going with his parents to Digul.   Do you think its near the place of your dream?”    

Immediately Aamilah recognized the name of the place as a place near to the village she was seeking.    She had somehow seen this name on the map near to where the Angel of Allah had pointed.    She boarded the small ship and together they rode for another 2 days.    After a day they turned up a large river.    Her children sat glued to the windows.    “Mommy, what’s that big lizard over there at the edge of the river?”  her son had asked.    She shuttered as she watched a 4 meter long Crocodile sink out of site beneath the muddied waters of the river.    Later a man rode a speed boat up close beside their ship and one of its passengers jumped aboard the ship with a large sack.    Out of the sack was produces a 4 1/2 meter long Python that the man wanted to sell to the passengers.   Aamilah prayed, “Oh Allah protect my children from this harsh land.”   At night mosquitoes swarmed their bodies.    “Allah protect us from Malaria.”

Then around 5 am at the end of the 2nd night she awoke to  hear sailors preparing to dock their ship.    On the dock were lines of men with toothy grins walking around spitting Bettlenut and smoking home rolled cigarettes.    She asked,  “where can I find a boat going to Felo?”     She knew this place was not far away yet know one seemed to know of the place she was asking about.   Suddenly a man approached her.    “How can I help you?”     She immediately recognized him as a man who had stood behind the Angel of Allah in her dream.   

Aamilah asked,   “Do know where Felo village is and how I can get there?”    

“Yes!   I am from the next village up the river from Felo.    But you don’t want to go to that village because those people study the Word of God and worship on a what they call the Sabbath!”     The man said.

Aamilah immediately thought of the text the angel had highlighted.    “Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy.”

“Yes I do want to go there! “   She said in a sudden blurt.   “I’ll pay for your gas and oil to take me there on your boat.”

The man agreed but soon it was evident he didn’t really know the village she was talking about so Aamilah asked him to stop at every village so she could inspect it to see if it was the place she had dreamed of.   The big Papuan man started to look nervous as they kept going from village to village.  His Papuan wife who was with them on the boat kept complaining that he was just flirting.   Finally, they arrived at the district village where the district head was and they found him at his home around noon.   “Do you know where Felo is?”   Aamilah asked.

“Yes,   Its not an official village but we allowed them to start a new village so that the people from another village nearby would not kill them.    They are very serious about God and their original village is not so serious.”   The district head said.

Aamilah asked,  “Do they worship on a certain day like Friday for example?”

“No they worship on Saturday.   Strange isn’t it?”   The district head asked.   “I mean you worship on Friday and I worship on Sunday but no one except these people and the Jews insist on worshipping on Saturday.   But one thing about them is they are amazing folks.    I went there recently to study building a school for them and discovered they had already built a school and church.   Then I sent a team from the local clinic and the nurses all came back in a couple of hours to say everyone was healthy and didn’t need them.   Then I sent the Agriculture man and discovered that every home had huge gardens and they didn’t need the agriculture department.   So I went again and discovered their name is Seven days and they’ve built a church.    Their leader has taught the village to read and write and how to compost and when they are sick he’s got a team of prayer folks who go and prays for the sick person and they get well within a few minutes.   Strange folks.   If you can promise me you won’t stir up trouble I’ll give you a letter to allow you to go there.”

Aamilah promised and soon she had the all important letter.    Within 45 minutes she was at the dock leading to the village.    A small boy was there but no one else.   He ran ahead to inform the Seven-days leader.

Aamilah has been in this small village for just over 3 1/2 months and together with a Bible and the Quran she has been on an amazing journey.    She has written letters back to her family and they have just sent reply messages that she is no longer their family member.    Aamilah cheerfully says, “My new family is even better than my birth family, but I’d sure like to have my birth family know this truth I am learning.”

Aamilah is helping to teach students math, reading and writing.   This is  greatly red ucing the work load of our Global Pioneer to help disciple the Adults of the village.    Aamilah is praying for a way to take this Truth from the “last day people of the Book” back to Aku one day.   Pray for Aamilah!

* The names of villages and people and locations have been changed to protect the innocent but the essential details of the story are as they were relayed to me a few days ago.

Sore Tail! Big Waves! Miracle Needed!

Sometimes when it seems impossible God does the Impossible just to show us that He’s in control.    On Sunday, February 15, it seemed as if my trip to southern Papua near Merauke was tangled in impossibilities.   First, we have no plane to get to the particular remote places that we needed to go to.   Gary Roberts and Hartley Sakul our mission pilots are not quite checked out for the type of places I need to go to.    Miss Bob Roberts in that he was one of the Senior Pilots in Papua and knew nearly every strip and weather pattern and lots of tricks to get into places others have to pass by.

Pastor Jerry Samokari (left) is our new pastor for Kepi in the Mapi Regency of southern Papaua.   There are 14 members in this town of close to 20,000 people.

I needed a Miracle.   I called Eric Roberts and briefly explained my situation as Gary is gone to Europe to purchase a new plane and Hartley was away for a seminar.   Eric flies for another organization and often knows of solutions I hadn’t known of.   Quickly he connected me with an Adventist Pilot who flies for a commercial company who is based in Merauke.   Within a couple of hours I was connected to this pilot.   He was able to get all the information that I needed and get me 3 seats on the right plane to the right location.    Miracle Number 1.      Really it is an amazing miracle because when I called the company said, “You have to get here first to Merauke and then we’ll see if we have a seat or 2 but not likely that you’ll have 3 seats on the same day.

I was needing to fly to Kepi and then Bade and get up the river and be home by Friday.    Big order unless you just have a plane at your disposal for your every whim and then that plane needs to be a float plane.   So off I went.   With me was a new Pastor Jerry Samokari who was going to be placed at our new Adventist Mission project in Kepi in the Mapi Regency of southern Papua.    Second, reason I went was to meet up with Pastor Melky Sakul who will be heading up the work in the Bade Adventist Mission project as well as helping to provide a base for our already established project in Sengge.

We landed in Merauke and I was surprised to meet not only Pastor Melky Sakul but a pastor that I had been told had already moved to his new district had been delayed and was still there.    So after going to check that the plane that the pilot from yesterday had arranged was still going to happen the next day and paying for it I went to the Adventist Church and set up my Hammock and mosquito net and then talked with Pastor Melky and Jerry for quite some time.  That afternoon the wind blew at a terrific rate and news soon came that our flight would be cancelled if the wind didn’t let up by tomorrow.   So we prayed and the wind slowly died down.    Late in the afternoon the Adventist Pilot from the commercial company came and talked with me – Sam B from Italy.

 

Turns out Sam mentioned several bits of information that got us into a long conversation and a lot of prayer.    In this case I felt used of God to be a listening ear.   Sam was flying home to Italy in a few days for vacation and was facing probably one of the toughest trips of his life.    It was a miracle that I got to meet him at such a time as this and have the privilege of adding Sam to my regular prayer list.

Pastor Melky Sakul, Myself and Pastor Jerry Samokari sitting in front of the small gathering temporary structure that will be replaced when we can help gather funding for a jungle chapel on property donated by the members in Kepi.

Tuesday morning dawned bright and early. . . I hadn’t slept much because the pastor and his wife had to pack their house up that night because they learned the boat was coming for their things at 7:00 in the morning.   So all night they packed and I heard packing tape until late into the night.

 

Off we flew to Kepi.   There we were met by a delegation of the handful of Adventists.   An Adventist Dr moved into this area about 8 years ago and has been trying to raise up some work in this area.  I wrote a proposal after my initial visit to this area last April just before Bob’s Crash.   We are finally able to bring a young newly graduated pastor to work as a Global Pioneer.   Dr Welem has found land and built a very small temporary structure for church but we need to help them raise money for a jungle chapel and a jungle pastors home.    After several hours in Kepi and a wonderful meal we were able to find a speed boat driver that was willing to brave taking us to Bade.

The First Hour we skimmed down the river in the speed boat on relatively calm Kepi River.   But when we met the mighty Digul and turned North upstream things got really wavy and dangerous.

The First hour on the Kepi River was quite calm but then we met the mighty Digul River and turned North upstream.   I took a look at the waves and grasp the bars that surrounded the edge of the boat.   Everywhere I looked I saw white-caps.   Yikes!   Lord we need a miracle.   The “Speed boat” that had been going along at 35 knots per hour suddenly had to time every 1 meter wave.    The Digul River at this point is mixed with salt water from the ocean and the Oceans Energy.   The waves kept building.   I kept thinking “if the next wave swamps this boat which shore looks closer and less inviting for the Crocodiles and Pythons that troll the Digul River.  Lord we need Your guidance.”   Then it began to really pick up in waves and the clouds grew black and heavy with threatening rain.   “Lord we need a Miracle.”    My back side began to get really sore after crashing up and down up and down for 3 solid hours and then 4.   “Lord will we ever make it”    Finally after 4:15 minutes and a heavy down pour we at last rounded a bend in the river to see Bade.

 

We had been trying to find someone to stay with when we arrived in Bade and when we arrived there a teacher friend of Dr Welem met us and graciously gave us a mat on the flour of his house.   But still the biggest question that I had been trying to think of a solution to for at least 2 months was, How do we connect with Fernando Krey our Adventist Global Pioneer that we dropped in Sengge/ Amk last April 3rd, 2014.   His village is another 4 hours north up the river from Bade and has no form of communication with the outside world.   I texted Ruth and said, “We need a miracle to get to Sengge because we have no way of reaching our worker there.”   In April 2014 I had forgotten my GPS and so I only had approximate GPS coordinates so it would be somewhat guess work if we just set out on the river.   And if we went to the wrong place it could be detrimental.   So the same God that had provided a Miracle in getting us Safely thus far would have to do the rest.

Fernando Krey, our Global Pioneer Bible Worker, after 10 months has a beard.

After resting my “sore tail” I said to Pastor Melky, “Let’s go find something to eat!”   So we borrowed a motor cycle and off we went.   I was on the back and praying the whole time that God would direct us to the right person who would know the way to Sengge so we could see Fernando Krey and his wife and child.   Suddenly, I noticed a heavily bearded man running almost even with the pace of our motorcycle and shouting  “Pastor, Pastor”   Who was this guy?   I didn’t recognize him at first.   There was only 2 Adventist in Bade other than Melky and myself.   Then all at once I realized who it was.   When I left Bade On April 4 Fernando had no beard. . . After living in the jungle for 10 months he looked different.    Then all fGo to Bade’.   Finally at around noon the voice became insistent so I got in the motorized dug out of one of our church members and we fought the waves for 5 hours.   When I arrived here I didn’t know why I was here so I just called the District Pastor in Merauke and he told me that you guys were suppose to come.   But Bade is about 5,000 people and many many houses.   How would I find you?   So I bowed my head and prayed and when I said Amen you guys passed in front of my on the motorcycle and I said, ‘Lord slow them down so I can catch up with them.’  And just then Pastor Darron turned toward me with the most confused look on his face and then Pastor Melky too.”

The “pastors” house or Global Pioneers house made possible because someone donated enough fuel to cut some boards with a chainsaw.   Thank you.

 

We rejoiced together at how God had brought us together.   The next morning we chartered another speed boat and made it to Sengge through more incredible waves.   I was literally bruised on my bottom from all the jarring up and down.    But when we landed in Sengge it was well worth the trip.   Fernando Krey has led almost 40 people to Christ and Baptism since we last saw him 10 months ago.   He has taught  together with his wife Grades 1-3 and his third Graders passed the regional exams at the top of the class.   He has built a simple Pastors house.   When the medicines that the Government gave him ran out he started a Prayer ministry that has seen miracle after miracle.   So many miracles that the local villages now go to his house before they make the trip to the district clinic because “His Prayers are way more effective than the Drs.”   Every home has a beautiful Garden that Fernando has taught the people how to make the land flourish by composting.     

Garden full of compost and pumpkins, root crops, tomatoes, greens and much healthier families than what I saw 10 months ago.

He told of the time he went hunting because he couldn’t get to town because the river was too dangerous to come.   He and his wife needed food.   He set a trap to catch a deer but the deer managed to step around the trap so he randomly threw his machete and it hit directly into the jugular veins of the neck of the deer killing it instantly.   They had enough meat until the river went down from the floods enough to be safe to make it to collect his Salary and get groceries. 

Antlers from the Deer that provided food just when they needed it most.

But I’ll have to share the best story for another blog.   

 

Miracles were needed and Miracles were gotten but not without a sore tail and a lot of scary big waves. 

 

Inside the Church with a few of the Members who were not out fishing or in their gardens when we came.

The Temporary Church and School in Sengge/Amk in the Bade District of the Mapi Regency.   Waiting for Funding and materials for a more permanent structure.

Baptizing in Paradise

I’m in Raja Ampat for the second time this year for Reaping meetings.   Raja Ampat has the best diving in the world according to several Dive magazines.    The location of our meetings is in the capital of the Raja Ampat regency and so its hard to be in a city and think that just 20 minutes away is the best diving.   So I jumped at an opportunity to go to Yarweser, a small village on the edge of one of the 4 Raja – or King islands.   This island of Batam is one of the 4 largest of the 600+ islands in this island paradise in West Papua, Indonesia.

The First thing I did when we arrived at this village is to go to the church.   When I turned around to I saw this view.   I thought out loud, “Wow! I’ll be Baptizing in Paradise.” Then I added,  “This must me like heaven.”

The View out the back door of the Adventist Church in Yaweser

We came to Yaweser to Baptize those who had requested baptism and preform 2 weddings.   First, West Papua Mission President Pastor Ted and the district Pastor, Son Rumbiak, made sure the baptismal candidates were ready doctrinally.

  

Then the church enthusiastically voted 13 new members into the church subject to their baptism in a few minutes latter.   See the hands of the members voting.

Then I was given the opportunity to baptize all 13 candidates.    And because the last two pairs were husband and wife I baptized them together a couple at a time.

 

Yes, it is wonderful to baptize in perfectly blue water as you watch exotic fish dart this way and that to miss the baptismal candidates bodies as they are laid down in the watery grave and then symbolically resurrected as a celebration of Jesus victory over sin for us.   “Thank you Jesus!  For your free offer of eternal life and may many more make a public expression of Christ’s Re-birth, Resurrection power.    And Thanks Jesus for letting me have the opportunity to work for You.   The only place more beautiful than this will be when we are in Paradise.   Thank you Jesus!”   I wonder if Jesus will baptize me in Paradise?

 

Pray for our new believers in this almost paradise place called Yarweser in Raja Ampat.   They are struggling to build a bigger church now with more termite proof boards built from Iron Wood.

The current Church is the one below but its way too small for the current population let alone the future.

Oh and here are the Wedding Couples (see below)

One more “OH”. . . to my pastor friends. . . have you ever baptized a kid in a Harley Davis shirt in such beautiful water as this?

Too Bad we had to leave Paradise.   Thanks to my friend Max Ammer, owner of Papua Diving,  for loaning his boat and driver for the day in Paradise to Yarwesar.

“Momma” Watopa’s "Restaurant"

The Beautiful hut from which we enjoyed our meals in Waropen each day while I was there for Evangelism Meetings.

October 1-12 I was in Waropen for Evangelism Meetings. . .There’s a beautiful “restaurant” in the Waropen Kabupatan.    No, its not really a restaurant but I was just as impressed as if it were.   “Momma” Watofa, pronounced Watopa to the English speaking ear, is the wife of our retired Education Director a few years back.   He and she still work as Principle and teacher in their retirement.   The food she produced, between teaching classes to elementary school kids, was spectacular for this westerner.   She accommodated my western vegetarian taste buds and found a way to blend Indonesian, Papuan and Western foods in a divine way.    Wow it tasted good.   Can we say Granola, Pizza, Quiche, Grilled Vegetables, something that tasted like Special K loaf.

Gradola, Papaya, Peanuts that a church member dug and “Momma” Watofa roasted.
On Top of the spectacular food the Watofa family land is beach front and they have little modern huts called Pondoks for enjoying the sea view.   Each day we would watch boats coming in an out and birds catching their prey and children and fishermen at play.   It was such a delightful experience that it made me wish there was a place this refreshing in Doyo Baru.  

The Watofa Home faces the ocean but they’ve also started a church in this former government home that was built on their family land.   It actually use to be rented by prostitutes for their business.   When the Watofa learned of this they bought it back from the government and dedicated it to the Lord instead of to Satan’s benefits.   They hope to one day afford the rest of their land to buy is back from the government who has an abandoned tourist facility on it.  
I told “Momma” Watofa, as everyone affectionately calls her, that she should seriously consider opening a Restaurant.

“Momma” Watofa (in red top) in her kitchen

With her “staff” of volunteers who cooked for me and the team while we preached, taught and visited during the reaping meetings in Waropen.

Gerson the Boat Builder

About a year ago a plan for a Self sustained Boat ministry was launched.  After a long time (1 1/2 years) of seeking God’s will about how to start a boat ministry and many brainstorming sessions with lots of people a plan was set into motion.   Its not a fast impact ministry but rather a “build it brick by brick” ministry.

The idea is to send 1 or 2 young men to a Dutchman -Adventist friend of mine who operates a Dive resort and a boat building mini factory.    We would let them work hands on for 6 months to 2 years until they mastered all the ends and outs of fiberglass boat building and then help set them up in a small business of their own.   Then the idea would be that 1 out of 10 boats would be built and given free to the Adventist Church.

The brainstorming goes further.    Those donated boats would then be placed in an area where we want to open work along rivers and ocean islands where boats are hired for local people to haul their things to and from market.    The driver and operator of the boat will be trained in friendship and conversational evangelism.  This driver evangelist would donate 1/10th of his services either in funds or free rides to our Global Pioneer workers along the routes that are within that boat drivers area. 

Gerson standing with his first 2 fiberglass Kayaks built for the dive resort guests.   Behind him is a large boat/ship that is being built for a client to haul things to and from the resorts.

At last in June of this year our first candidate, Gerson made the 4 day ship journey to the boat building factory to begin learning how to build everything from Kayaks to small ships.   When we interviewed Gerson his wife was planning to go with him with their 3 year old son.   But then they discovered they were expecting their second child.   So as is the custom with many in Indonesia she went to live with her mother during the pregnancy and for the first year while he went to provide an income for his family.   Grandma in this culture is expected to greatly assist in a new moms life from mid pregnancy until the end of the first year of the babies life.

A couple of weeks ago I received a message that I needed to pray for Gersons wife. . . she was in labor and things weren’t going well.  By the time Gerson arrived the baby was still born.  “No!” I shouted to God when I first heard this news.   Graciously my Dutch friend who has been paying a salary for Gerson while he learns the business also paid for him to fly to see his wife in this time of grief.  I picked Gerson from the airport near by and drove him to some family members home where he would catch the bus for 8 hours to his mother-in-laws village.   Clearly Gerson was sad but at the same time was thrilled with the practical skill he is learning.   

Our hope is to reunite he and his wife in the same area in the very near future so that the two can be united in Boat Building Ministry together.

Gerson is from a tribe along the Digul River which is the longest river able to be navigated by large ships in Papua.  So his knowledge of boats is first hand.   He is a hard worker and has served as a Global Pioneer who helped start the Tanah Merah Church.   We appreciate Gersons faithfulness even in difficult times.   Please, pray for Gerson and his dear wife as we seek to sprout a self sustaining boat ministry that will allow us to travel into some of the more difficult regions of Papua for the sake of the Gospel. 

Dreaming of Home

Its an Honor

 

Dad laying down the last tree a couple years ago.   Wish we still had him and his saw around.

When we said our last good bye’s in Cookeville in the summer of 2013 I knew that was probably my last hug this side of eternity with my Dad.   As usual Dad had led us in prayer. . . Not the once booming prayer but a simple prayer of a patriarch praying his prayer of blessing for his missionary son and family.   Dad had several major values in life.   One of those values was making sure every soul possible was won to Christ.    At the top of this list was to witness the coming to Christ of his children and Grandchildren.    But a second value on Dad’s radar was, “If you can save money by doing it yourself then you might as well do it up right.”  In Dad’s view keeping 2 winters supply of split and well cured oak firewood in the shed was saving “tons” of money.

For as long as I can remember, which is more than 40 years, we Boyds have been stacking neat rows of good oak firewood.    The house we built on the farm in 1983 was designed around two big fireplaces and one whole house wood burning furnace.    Yes, sir we were ensuring that wood burning was going to be in the family for generations to come.

Each year dad always got desperate to cut wood along about the hottest week of the summer and the most humid one too.   And another non-negotiable was we use to get stuck somewhere deep in the woods in some mud puddle and thus the tractor was purchased along about 1984 --primarily to get us unstuck.   Now “we” could send Darron to run get the chains and the tractor to pull the over loaded 1976 blue and white half ton pick-up, that was loaded with about 2 tons of green oak wood.    And we wonder why it was stuck?!   Probably it had more to do with the fact that the leaf springs on the pick up were bent backwards and the front wheels were scarcely touch the ground, than the fact that we hit a mud puddle that was no problem going into the wood but now was way too big.  

Back in those days I use to gaze in awe as my tall 5’ 10” dad swung the splitting maul with perfect accuracy making those billets of 30-inch-across oak-wood “slice like butter”.   Try as I might when I was 12 I could not swing that 15 pound splitting maul with any kind of accuracy.

But then I grew. . . something like 6 inches in 14 months between 12 1/2 and 13 1/2.    I grew so fast my bones hurt and dad began to really value my work ability.   I began to notice along about that time in life that Dad’s back was not as straight as it use to be and we all knew he suffered from sever Asthma, and a bunch of Arthritis’ aunts and uncles.   Perhaps it was the fact that when he wasn’t splitting wood by hand he was laying rocks on our house or pouring a cement drive by hand because of that value If you can save money by doing it yourself then do it with all your might.    But dad always was certain his back problems weren’t because of a “little work”.

Even the 24 foot latter on the bank could reach the first limbs so we could place a cable around the tree to help guide it to the desired location.

As we left the farm in 2013 after Dad had prayed a beautiful prayer he said, “Well, I’m going to get stronger here soon so I can get out and fill the shed up with wood and help finish the gospel, too.”   Deep in my heart I knew both were wishful thinking for a man who now stood scarcely 5’4’' due to scoliosis, arthritis, and much more.   It didn’t surprise me but it still hurt deeply on the night of November 8 after I’d finished preaching the opening night of a Reaping Evangelism meetings in Wamena, Papua when I got an urgent message to call Ruth.   I knew it was Dad even before I called her back.   He had fallen asleep in Jesus during the night while I was preaching.

The shed hadn’t quite been full with two years supply of wood when dad passed away.   So I knew this summer of 2014 it would be my honor to fill the shed.

It didn’t use to seem like an honor when I was a teen.   But this summer those old scars gained while cutting wood came to mind.   There was the one I received when I was fourteen when I stopped the 8 foot section of log with my knee from rolling down the mountainside.   Then there was the one I received the summer of my 16th year of life.   Just a 1/2inch long scar but how the memories roll with that scar.

It was 5:30 a.m. on a Sunday morning which for we Adventists means the working week is ready to go full blown. . . that is unless you’re a 16 year old boy who has arranged to sleep in until 9:00 a.m., which is late on a farm, and then go water skiing.   Suddenly the lights came on in disco style (flicking the switch) and dad let out a “Yeeeeeeeee    HOOOOOOO.   It’s time to rise and shine”    Somewhere I had missed the message that Sunday morning was a non-negotiable wood cutting day.   Dad had received the offer of free wood.

So in a foul mood I came out to breakfast and soon we were heading down the road with our 1976 pickup towing a 16 foot long flat bed trailer so we could put some of those tons of extra wood on the trailer instead of the pickup.    We were loaded with Gator-aid and lunch so we could make a day of it.   Since dad had his first back surgery and I had grown to my 5’11” height I was the designated maul swinger.   A 15 pound maul hammer when your angry from missing the day on the lake with friends is a good thing.    You can swing your anger away and you get a pick up and 16 foot long trailer filled sooner.  

As I was swinging suddenly a searing pain hit my left bicep just above the elbow.    I had just hit a splitting wedge when the pain seemed to deepen.   Why?   I looked and I could only see a small cut with scarcely a drop of blood.   Apparently a hot sliver of metal shrapnel from off the wedge had cauterized its way deep into my left bicep leaving almost no trace.   I had to look carefully to see the blood.    Then the pain hit me all at once – like a bullet.   Every heart beat throbbed with searing pain in my left bicep.   I reached into the wound with my dirty finger nails and pulled out a 2 centimeter long razor sharp shard.   As I gapped into this 1/2 inch wide wound I could see the large vein in my bicep had been narrowly missed.   “If only I’d gone skiing on the lake this stupid shrapnel wound wouldn’t have happened,” I remember mumbling under my breath.

Jacob holds the cable before its attached to the longer cable.   If you look very carefully you can see Andrews body climbing down the tree from where he helped get the cable around the limbs.   Look below to see the close up of Andrew coming down.

Somehow this summer of 2014 I wished that I was 16 all over again or 15 or 14 and that I could split wood without complaining so my dad didn’t have to take it on his back.    Dad bought a hydraulic splitter before that year over back when I was 16 and splitting became a bit easier.

This giant southern Red Oak that was just 92 years young had to come down.   The insects has literally eaten the heart out of a lot of it which was slowly causing it to die.

This summer on furlough when my brother posted on Facebook that he was NOT looking forward to missing the warmth of wood heat when the shed was empty sometime mid winter coming up,  Friends responded from Heritage Academy with a large tractor and help lay down the designated tree that was itself a teenager when Dad was born in 1934.   So with the new Stihl chainsaw that was a bit on the under size,   I cut and cut and cut and then came the splitting.   Thankfully, I have 4 he-man offspring and my sisters have 5 he-man nephews so putting away the wood was a bit easier than days gone by.   

Ever so thankful for all the help of those who came to help.

When the tree was almost fully put away and split my brother came wheeling into mom’s dining room one supper time with the news that he’s just found 2 free trees already cut into firewood size free for the taking.   Oh man!    Free Firewood to a Boyd who has managed to inherit the cheap-skate do-anything you- can-to-save-a-dime And do-it-with-ALL-your-might gene, means lets get to it.   This translated into convincing my little older sister (she’s 5’2”) and her two oldest sons together with my two oldest to go lay claim before anyone else beats us to it.   She has a cool red truck with a  16 foot car hauler trailer  and we filled it in honor or the good old days.

This part of the tree was so big I had to split it in two first so I could cut the rest of the way through the tree.

He-Nephew Bryan and He-son Andrew learn how to love-hate wood splitting with a much easier method of hydraulic splitting.

The cool red truck with a cool load of free wood that no self-respecting Boyd could ever deny themselves of.

And now the shed is fuller than anytime I’ve ever seen it before.    I guess the shed to have 8 foot high by 20 foot long by 14 foot deep full to the brim of split southern red oak.    Mom kept saying, “Dad would have been proud.”   Honestly, it’s funny how my hatred of wood cutting has turned a bit like a veteran returned from war that he hated to be fighting in, yet now relishes in the war stories of World War Wood of 1984.

We finally got smarter and put the splitter right at the shed door entrance so we could split it and then stack it directly.   This was a few ricks short of what it was before we finished the job.

Mom, I know you’re worried you ruined my vacation but honestly it was a Great honor and now if I think long enough I can manufacture a good yarn about the slight mark from the scar that’s now on my left ankle that I have no-idea how it got there.   But it’ll have a good story to go with it someday.   “Yep let me tell you about that scar.   It came while cutting wood way back in 2014. . . when we filled the shed fuller than its ever been filled before.”    It’s an honor to be a veteran of the wood cutters league.   It an honor to honor my Mother.   Here’s to next furlough when I’m sure someone will let me borrow a slightly bigger chainsaw,  pretty Please!  

Cheers!   Until the World War Wood of 2015 – Its an honor!

Exhausted!