Chapter 1 - Before Christ

I was born on August 11, 1930, but I don't remember much about it. Later in life, however, I found out there were some interesting details.

The Great Depression had begun in October 1929. Only a few weeks later, I was conceived. My mother probably knew she was pregnant by Christmas.

My father had lost his job, and there was no prospect that steady work would become available in the foreseeable future. My parents had two daughters, Ruth (3) and Margaret (1). In this day and age, she certainly would have been advised by many not to have another baby under those circumstances.

I was born in St. Albans, Long Island. I can't remember our moving to Englishtown, New Jersey, but have been told of some of the circumstances then. Being without a job, my father would walk 35 miles to New York City every Monday morning to pick up any odd jobs during the week.

He (with many other unemployed) would sleep on the subway trains for five cents a night. On Friday he would walk back home, give my mother whatever he had earned, and continue the same ritual the next week. On one of his treks to New York, he found a $20 bill, and that was a topic of conversation for many years.

My mother would pay our landlady $4 weekly rent, and stretch the rest of the money to keep three children well fed. She did lots of baking, and, while we never had meat during the week, we always had a roast on Sunday, a ham at Thanksgiving and a turkey at Christmas.

My first memory was waking up from a nap one afternoon. Hearing a commotion from the street, I went to the bedroom window and saw them killing a snake in the street outside.

Do you think that had prophetic significance?

I could use the rest of this autobiography telling you what a misery it is to be the only boy with two older sisters. Long before the feminist movement became popular, my sisters pioneered it. I didn't get a male sibling for six years, and then I found out how "exciting" three year old games can be to a nine-year-old.

But my childhood was really not constant persecution; the memories I have are of its being quite happy. When we moved to Adelphia, New Jersey, my Dad got a regular job as Assistant Foreman in a rug mill, and I can still remember his coming home on a Friday evening with a half-gallon of ice cream.. At that time the most exciting flavors were half vanilla and half orange sherbet.

My Dad was a sports enthusiast, and, having been born in Massachusetts, was a Boston Red Sox fan. I favored the New York Yankees at the time, so our house was lively with Joe DiMaggio vs. Ted Williams discussions. We also had family teams; Ruth and I played together; we called our team the Spitfires. Margaret and Dad were known as the Fire Extinguishers, and all year long we played either softball or football. Sometimes we had a real ball, but often we had to use a sock stuffed with other socks. But I enjoyed it.

I believe both my parents were saved, but their backgrounds of more liturgical churches did not give them the understanding of how to share their faith. We did have evening Bible readings. In Adelphia, there was a Methodist Church which did not have a good reputation. After much consideration my folks decided it was better than nothing, so we went regularly.

I still remember sitting in that Methodist church, looking around at all the congregation and thinking, "If anyone in this church is going to Heaven, I'm sure I will make it." I had never been taught specifically about having eternal life. I was a regular choir member, I was always at Youth Fellowship, and my Sunday School attendance was almost always perfect. I didn't lie, except when I had to; I was not caught up in petty theft unless I had the opportunity. I didn't go to wild parties when I was in high school, because I was never invited to wild parties. I laughed at dirty jokes, and sometimes tried my hand in telling them, but I was never very good at it. I guess I was a normal, religious, unsaved sinner.

Chapter 2 - Misery in Fort Bliss

After high school, I joined the Army. I had no real purpose in life, and I soon found myself in an extremely unpleasant situation. After basic training in New Jersey, I was shipped to Texas. This was my first time West of Philadelphia, and the trip was interesting until we left St. Louis and encountered mile after mile of prairie, then more prairie. I was wondering if the bear would ever get over the prairie.

I was part of a contingent of soldiers who were going to Fort Bliss, Texas to form a reactivated 60th Anti Aircraft Artillery Battalion. I found out years later when visiting Corregidor, that the first one had been annihilated there in 1942.

The first thing that had to be done is to clean and assemble the guns, and then learn, by numbers, to jump to various places in readiness to fire. At this early stage, we didn't do any firing, but we did a lot of cleaning and jumping.

Even though it was February, it was hot and dusty. I thought that Fort Bliss must have been the most poorly named Army post in the world. I was miserable.

One day, another soldier and I were talking about the unpleasant jobs we were doing. I don't know how he came to this conclusion, but he said to me,

"You seem to be very religious." Then he said words which would change my life.

(I know that this phrase - it changed my life - can be over used. But, believe me, this was literally true for me.)

He said, "You know, the easiest job in the Army is to be a Chaplain's Assistant. You should get to be one of those."

I found out that the words "easiest job" were not always true, but anything would be better than cleaning and jumping. So I decided to try out for this job.

I had not been to a church service since we were in Church Parade in basic training, but I thought I had better go if I wanted the job. I can still feel the uneasiness as I walked up the long flight of steps to Chapel Number 3, Logan Heights, Ft. Bliss, Texas.

Normally, this would not have been the chapel that someone from my battalion would attend. Our chapel was No. 4, but as there was no Chaplain assigned there yet, there was no Sunday service.

I vividly remember the sermon given by Chaplain Wolverton, a Methodist. He spoke on Psalm 121:1, I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills ... His sermon was about the beautiful hills that rose up just West of Logan Heights. It was the kind of sermon I was used to, a flowery presentation of nothing.

As I left, I spoke to Chaplain Wolverton about my desire to be a Chaplain's Assistant. He said he needed one, and, as I was from the adjoining battalion, he would arrange for my transfer.

The next day I was listed for KP (Kitchen Police) duty. In the middle of the morning, there was a message for me. I was told to report to the Chaplain in Chapel No. 4. That very morning, a Chaplain had been assigned to the 60^th, and when he reported to HQ he was told a request for transfer had just been received for a Chaplain's Assistant.

He asked that the transfer be held up until he had an opportunity to interview me. So I came face to face with the first Baptist I ever met, Chaplain (Capt.) Robert G. Alexander.

He asked me three questions to see if I qualified for the job.

Could I drive a jeep? I was 18, but didn't have a license, as our family had not owned a car. A few years before, my sister, who had a license, was driving a truck on a farm where we were working. I talked her into letting me drive, and I drove into the side of a barn.

Nevertheless, I reasoned that I would be able to learn, so I told him I could drive a jeep.

Can you type? I did have some typing experience. A few weeks before, in the Service Club, I had put a dime in a typewriter and pecked out a letter to my Mother. I had to honestly admit the letter didn't look too good, but I told the Chaplain I could type.

Can you play the organ? Now we were getting into a field in which I had a bit of expertise. My family was very musical, and I had piano lessons for a few months several years ago. I could play a bit by ear, but was restricted to the keys of C, G and F. I had never played an organ, but I figured it couldn't be much different than a piano, so I told the Chaplain I could play the organ. I got the job.

Four good things happened. Three were "O.K." good; the other was eternally good.

We didn't get a jeep assigned to the Chaplain, so he drove his car to the gun emplacements to visit the soldiers. This meant I didn't have to drive, and I had lots of unsupervised time to type the letters he left me to work on. He never knew how laboriously I got through the few letters I had to do.

Every Monday morning, "Chappie" (as we came to affectionately know him) would give me the hymns for the following Sunday. I spent hours on the organ working on them. Since I played by ear, it was not difficult to transpose them down into one of the three keys I knew (I have since become an expert and can play in six keys). Chaplain Alexander thought I was a great organist since hymns are easier to sing when played a bit lower.

The greatest thing was that, for the first time in my life, I heard the Gospel. Chaplain Alexander was a Bible believing, Bible preaching Baptist.

I enjoyed his messages, but started to feel a bit uneasy, as something seemed to be telling me I was a sinner.

That was a message I wasn't interested in, and certainly didn't believe. I was always (relatively) good, and I resented whoever was suggesting I was a sinner. Chaplain Alexander never told me, but as he preached the Word, the Holy Spirit began to convict me.

Like any self-respecting Methodist, I fought this conviction. As I was not into the normal night life of the Army, I spent many evenings at my office in Chapel No. 4, reading. Many times I would read my Bible.

I hit on a solution. I would prove to God that I wasn't a sinner, and the best way to do this, I felt, was to show Him I could obey all the commands given in the Sermon on the Mount. Of course, the more I tried, the more I failed, until one night I decided to agree with God.

I didn't understand all the theological truths connected with Calvary, but I had heard enough to know that Jesus Christ had died on the Cross, and that this had occurred for man's salvation. One night as I left my office, I had to pass by a lighted cross in back of the altar. There I knelt to pray, and in a transaction not as yet fully understood, but very real, I trusted Christ as my Savior.

Three days later, I was in a library and found a book by Dr. Grattan Guiness. In it he explained the substitutionary work of Christ as outlined in Isaiah 53, and the full force of the understanding of salvation burst upon my heart. He, Who knew no sin, had taken my place, and become sin for me!

Let's jump ahead a few years to the Base Chapel of Lakenheath, England, where I shared the back room of the Chapel as sleeping quarters with a young Catholic Chaplain's Assistant.

After witnessing to him for a couple of hours, we both retired. The next morning, he said, ""Bill, do you know you talk in your sleep?"

Rather hesitantly I asked, "What did I say?"

"You were fast asleep, when you suddenly sat bolt upright in the bed and shouted out, 'Jesus paid it all."'

That is still my testimony. As the hymn writer said,

Ere since by faith I saw the stream Thy flowing wounds supply;

Redeeming love has been my theme, and shall be 'till I die.

[Dr. Dinsdale Young, who in the days of Methodism's glory in England, was a faithful preacher of the Gospel. Now an aged man, he stood before the Annual Conference, and, in reply to the social Gospel that was now promoted here, quoted this verse.]

Chapter 3 - The Lord God hath spoken;

who can but prophesy? (Amos 3:8)

Now I began to drink in the sincere milk of the Word through private Bible study and messages from God's Word. Besides the Bible, which I carried wherever I went, my main source of teaching was the literature published by Sword of the Lord. I greatly profited from John R. Rice's easy to understand teaching.

God called me to preach, and everyone who has been called of God knows no adequate explanation of the process. I took Amos 3:8 as one of my life's verses, and prayed that I would always proclaim what He said in His Word.

My first opportunity came that Summer. Our outfit was at a firing range in Orogrande, NM. Every Sunday Chaplain Alexander and I would be driven there for the morning service. One Sunday morning Chappie phoned in sick, and asked me to take the service and preach. I didn't have much time to prepare, but had been in the Word regularly that week, and God gave me a message for about six dusty soldiers. Recently I drove to Orogrande and praised the Lord for His great grace over the years since that first sermon.

I was licensed to preach at Temple Baptist Church in Ascarate, Texas. I had prepared five illustrations with accompanying scriptures for my trial sermon. I figured at least five minutes per illustration, but the whole sermon was finished in five minutes. (Maybe some of my friends will think I should not have forsaken my first timing!)

The battalion was transferred to Ft. Ord, California. It was September,1949 - it took just one year for me to travel across U.S.A. One memorable event was the founding of Soldiers of the Cross, a group of Christian servicemen, encouraged by Chaplain Alexander to do whatever work God would have us to do.

We attended a church in Seaside, California pastored by a fiery preacher, J.C. Anderson. He started his sermons in high gear and finished in high gear with no down-shifting at all! One Saturday night a group of the young people went to a midnight movie in Seaside. As all buses had stopped running in the wee hours of the morning, we had to walk back to base.

All of us were noticeably tired when we attended church the next day. I can still remember Bro. Andy's theme, "Woe to those who go to midnight shows."

San Francisco was our next stopping point, where the Soldiers of the Cross helped to pioneer a church in the Marina district. It was during the Korean war, and we were sure we were going to be shipped over to Korea. But when our orders came, they told us to board a ship in San Francisco and sail 26 days via the Panama Canal to England.

To be spared Korea made us joyful, but after we arrived in Southampton in early February, 1951, we began to wonder.

Chapter 4 - England's Green and Rainy Land

Anyone familiar with stories about England is bound to remember the expression, "England's Green and Pleasant Land." After living in the Texas dust for months, England sounded good.

You couldn't have gotten two more complete contrasts than El Paso and England. One was dry, dusty and hot; the other was wet, muddy and cold. Many of us would have thought Korea preferable to England during our first two weeks.

We were taken to a disused RAF Barracks in Worcestershire. It was cold and rainy outdoors, and indoors only lacked the rain. We did have a fire at one end of our long barracks, but we could only get that to smoke. Our mattresses were lumpy horse hair, and I felt that England was about the worst place in the world.

When we arrived at our permanent base at Lakenheath, the barracks were Quonset Huts, and even the Base Chapel was a large Quonset hut. The weather didn't improve much, but on reactivating Soldiers of the Cross, things began to get better.

A large plus was the presence of the Air Force (since this was an Air Base!). A number of Christians started to fellowship with us in the chapel, the most notable of which was Cpl. Eddie Young. Eddie became my best friend, and our friendship continued until he went home to be with the Lord several years ago.

Having been active in Youth Rallies in U.S.A., Eddie urged us to start some in England. This began the English ministry of Soldiers of the Cross, an activity that was expressed by one English pastor as a "repayment of a spiritual debt America owed to Britain."

In eighteen months, over 200 young people professed faith in Christ, some of whom we keep in contact with until this day. As the young people streamed from the buses, someone remarked that they had never seen a queue (line) waiting to got into church! At one of our Anniversary Rallies, 1000 young people jammed the Anglican Church in Mildenhall. One Christian Anglican was so thankful, she invited any of us to stay free at The Shrublands Hotel, which she owned. (A few years later I took her up on this.)

A number of servicemen were saved, and the Soldiers of the Cross team produced at least four men in full time Christian ministry, as well as dozens of English folks who were saved and/or encouraged by this unusual move of God.

[As our Youth Rallies began in May 1951, in May 2001 we had a Reunion Rally at Barton Mills Free Baptist Church. A number of British friends attended, some coming from fairly long distances. Representing Soldiers of the Cross, besides myself, were John Wagenschutz and his wife Ruby, Shirley, wife of Carl Rodgers and Daphne, Eddie Young's widow. Needless to say, it was a great time of renewing acquaintances with old friends.]

I chose the word "unusual" deliberately. We were just a group of young Christians, eager to serve but very immature. I'm sure some of our antics amused or amazed our English hosts, yet they kept inviting us to preach at their services. This was a tremendous growing experience for the Soldiers of the Cross men who would later develop into pastors and missionaries.

Two of the men bought mini-motors. They had a rubber disk that rotated on a special heavy rear bicycle tire to speed up the bicycle. They were meant to just make cycling easier, but among our company was Jehu, the son of Nimshi, otherwise known as Johnny Wagenschutz [now a pastor in Michigan]. He drove his mini-motor furiously, at one time even running over Eddie Young.

At times the "Soldiers of the Cross Gospel Team" was slated to be in a church, but, with military duties, at times only two of us were free. One would ride the mini-motor and hold on to a long scarf. The other would be on a push bike holding the other end of the scarf

As we turned the comer and headed for the chapel, we could see a group of elderly, respectable deacons awaiting this "Gospel Team." imagine their surprise to see the mini-motor, dutifully followed by the scarf and the other rider, approaching their building.

At one time Eddie and I were cycling home from Thetford, and the brakes on his bicycle broke. When he wanted to stop, he would grab hold of me and I would brake for both cycles. All went well until we were heading downhill toward the town of Brandon. Eddie needed to brake, so he tried to negotiate his bike near mine. His pedal caught in my spokes; the bike stopped, and Eddie went flying into the bushes. The Soldiers of the Cross was one grand adventure proving God still means what He said in First Corinthians 1:27-28.

1 look upon these formative years as a time when God taught me much about His Person and methods. Sweet fellowship was ours as we shared insights into God's Word, prayer, and cycling to towns and villages to proclaim His Word. Fast friendships were made with pastors and other Christians.

This past Summer I had fellowship with Pastor George Ashdown, who was instrumental in helping and guiding us. Now in his 80's, he still remembers with joy those days of blessing.

At a meeting in his church in Isleham, a dear Methodist lay preacher, Mr. Clingo from Hockwold, interrupted the meeting to lead us in singing what soon became our theme chorus:

"O that will be glory for me, glory for me, glory for me

When by His Grace I shall look on His face

That will be glory, be glory for me."

Chapter 5 - God's Faithfulness

The preceding four chapters give you a good idea of my initiation into salvation and the work of the Gospel. The latter part of this testimony will concern things which God did in a marvelous way to meet needs and grant grace and guidance.

In my early Christian life, I was greatly impressed with the dealings of God with men of faith. We read great exploits in Hebrews 11, and also of those who "wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins, bring destitute, afflicted, tormented." I can say with thanksgiving that the Lord has privileged me to taste both sides of the life of faith. My only regret is that I did not trust Him more.

After my discharge from the Army, I was asked to return to England to work full time with Soldiers of the Cross. Before I left home, I had the joy of leading my younger brother to the Lord. He went to Bible School, and has been active in Christian work, pastoring for a time and now in a Christian ministry to young people.

Just after I returned to England, the Air Force transferred Eddie Young and other airmen from Lakenheath, and because of the opposition of an Air Force Chaplain, the ministry of Soldiers of the Cross came to a virtual stand still.

In one quick movement, God brought me from the pinnacle of involvement with a vibrant Gospel team to the uncertainty of not being sure where I would spend the next night. Even though I almost had to sleep with the rabbits on the rabbit warren, God provided for me.

The words "pray without ceasing" always meant, to me, "do not cease to pray." God showed me once how specific He wanted my prayers to be.

My wife and I were staying in a Bible School in Rochester, and had a meeting scheduled in Perry, NY on Sunday morning. I knew we were low on gas for the car, but didn't want to alarm my wife, so said nothing. Before we left, I silently prayed, "Lord, get us to Perry."

We were getting closer and closer to Perry as I watched the gas gauge get closer and closer to empty. Finally, we drove up a hill and saw a sign, "Welcome to Perry." Just at that moment the car ran out of gas. We walked to the church but all the way I thought of my morning prayer. I should have asked the Lord to get us to the church, but it was better that we didn't.

Although I have made it a practice never to ask for money, some explanation is due when the missionary speaker walks to church. When we told them we had run out of gas, the folks made sure we had a full tank besides the love offering they gave us. If we had barely made it to the church, we would have possibly run out on the way home, which would have been much more difficult.

Once, just after I first preached my sermon on The Infinite Christ of the Bible, I became aware of the mounting bills we were facing in the ministry. I made a list if all outstanding bills and all which would be due shortly. The figure this added up to was frightening, and then God spoke to my heart.

He asked me if the total was finite or infinite. I had to realize that while it was large, it was not infinite. Then God drew my attention to Philippians 4:19, But my God shall supply all your needs according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus. I realized my needs would not be met because of their greatness, nor because of my faith. Both of these were finite, and God showed me He would meet my needs according to His riches in Christ.

The glorious truth dawned upon my heart. Since I am saved, it is impossible for me to have an infinite need; my only infinite need was salvation. Now every need will be met according to His Infinite Riches in Christ.

Chapter 6 - The Land of Saints and Scholars

Going back to the time just after I left Bible College, I went to the village of Ashley to pioneer a church. For many months I could not get housing in the village, so I went by bicycle 13 miles each way three times a week. Although the work did not continue after my hasty departure, there were some professions of faith in Christ and some very good training for me in door to door visitation.

It was time for me to renew my visa in order to remain in England. The Home Office wrote me a letter informing me I had to prove financial resources sufficient to keep me for the next six months. As I was an alien, I was not allowed to work.

I replied to them, giving all the scriptures to back up my living by faith, but that did not impress them, so I was given a date to leave.

I had an invitation from a friend in Finland to come there for some evangelistic meetings. I planned to sail from Harwich to Hook of Holland and then hitch hike to Finland. When I went to book my passage, all the economy fares were sold out, so I went first class in a private cabin. This was necessary because I had to be out of the country on that date.

I hitch hiked to Harwich, and on the way spend almost all my remaining money on some crackers and other edible items. When I got on the ship, I had sixpence (about 6 cents) left. The steward came to the cabin and asked if I would like a cup of tea in the morning. I replied that I would, but it didn't dawn on me that I would have to pay for it.

When he came in the morning, I meekly tried to apologize and offered him my sixpence, which he refused - but he left the tea for me! I had a contact in Holland, but the immigration authorities didn't buy my idea of hitch hiking to Finland, so they refused entry. That night I was on the way back to England.

The authorities gave me two weeks to book passage to America (or anywhere - they just wanted me out!). I went to a travel agent to book a passage home. The need was met through a generous Christian serviceman, and all I could get by the target date was a ship leaving from Ireland in two weeks.

Having recently been invited by an evangelist in Ireland to visit him, I took this as an confirmation that I should go to Ireland and take the boat home from there.

During my two week stay, the Lord impressed me with the need of this land. I can remember sitting on top of Sugar Loaf Hill in Wicklow, remarking to a friend how needy was the beautiful land spread before us. As I departed from Cobh, I promised the Lord that, if it were His will, I would return (no, my name is not Douglas MacArthur).

The friend mentioned in the paragraph above came to USA to become my wife.

As we prepared to return to Ireland, during our deputation the Lord marvelously met many needs. At one time we were heading North from Illinois to Minneapolis. We had bought a stereo stove to heat water for tea, and in Illinois a farmer unexpectedly gave us three dozen eggs. We were low on cash, so were able to have a number of nutritious meals with the eggs cooked over the Sterno stove!

Finally, in July 1957, we returned to Ireland. I was joyful at the thought that God had brought me to His appointed place for me, but I didn't realize that I was starting seventeen years of a post-graduate course in Roman Catholic evangelism, as well as some struggles with false doctrine that would serve to strengthen my own convictions. It was during this time that I thought often of a hymn that forms much of my philosophy:

My goal is God Himself, not joy, nor peace

Nor even blessing, but Himself, my God

Tis His to lead me there, no mine, but His

"At any cost, dear Lord, by any road."

Chapter 7 - Boghall Road

I struggled with Roman Catholicism. I had never been one myself, and the only experience I had was, as related before, when I shouted in my sleep, "Jesus paid it all!"

While the average person in Ireland was a cultural Catholic, they were still very Catholic. There were the some more knowledgeable ones who always seemed to have answers for me. There was the thrill of standing in Abbey Street in Dublin preaching to a crowd of hundreds, and there was the Market Day at Carlow where we had to constantly dodge cows and preach at the same time. (A friend remarked that the cows always seemed to pick Market Day to have diarrhea.)

There was the doctrinal dispute between myself and the Director of our mission who, unknown to me before, told me he accepted the Deity of Christ as a basis for fellowship, but really didn't believe it.

Then there was God's unchanging provision. We rented a cozy cottage, at the entrance to a farm, on Boghall Road in Bray, Co. Wicklow. Although the bedroom ceiling was so low at the windows you had to look out of the windows on your knees, and it was very old-fashioned, we appreciated it.

During this time, two occasions showed us His care, and reminded us of his sense of humor.

My wife was pregnant with our first child, and we tried very hard to see she had sufficient nourishment. (Later, the birth of an 8 pound 10 ounce healthy boy testified that this had been accomplished.) We had a booklet on nutrition, and my wife noted the high iron content in steak. Her taste buds joined with the nutritional benefit to cause her to state this desire.

We went one morning picking blackberries, and, on returning home, saw our Catholic landlord had left a basket of broad beans on our doorstep. On checking the nutritional guide, we found that these had the same iron content as steak!

Once we were given a one pound note as a birthday present. This ($2.40) was quite a treat, and we went into Dublin a few hours before the Wednesday service to spend it. I forget exactly what we bought, but one of the items was some postage stamps. We went to a nice little restaurant for our evening meal.

I had counted the money we had left, and when my wife ordered, I made sure that my order would not bring the total above the money available. As the waiter was coming out of the kitchen with our meals, I noticed a footnote on the menu.

"A 15% service charge will be added to all meals."

I knew my money would not cover the meal plus 15%, but I tried to enjoy it anyway. When we were finished, I went to pay the bill and had to sheepishly offer the cashier some postage stamps to make up for the money lacking. She graciously refused, so we were still able to mail the letters!

All of these things were part of God's training, and I learned many lessons, some of them painful - but all of them funny now.

Chapter 8 - With My Staff

The first years in Ireland saw little fruit. A few visitors to our home professed faith in Christ; a young man followed the Lord in believer's baptism at a church in Dublin, and we helped a young lady, converted at our meetings, to come to America to Bible School.

As we left Ireland in 1960 just after the birth of our third child, a daughter, I thought of myself as reaching the 30-year milestone, with the visible results of my last decade of Christian witness far less than the first two. Still, I was not completely discouraged, as the second verse of my hymn goes:

"So faith bounds forward to its goal in God

And love can trust her Lord to lead her there

Upheld by Him, my soul is following hard

Till God hath full fulfilled my deepest prayer."

I had learned in Bible College that "to be in His will is better than success." I didn't know Ireland was going to be as difficult as it was, nor did I realize the problems of trying to serve God as the family was growing and the funds never quite enough. We felt led to pray that God would give us a mission board to back us, as we considered that a great asset.

The next few years were definitely downers. It was not that we didn't see God's hand of blessing, as we were conscious that our ministries and lives were being used to help individuals. It was not even that the financial picture was poor. I was able to get full time employment and substitute school teaching as well, and we did have a comfortable trailer and a reasonably good car.

It was just that things didn't seem to fit. We knew we were called to Ireland, but we didn't seem to be making any progress. I often felt that no matter how much God blessed our witness in the local church with all its activities, something was missing if we were not taking steps toward resuming our missionary work.

When I visited Canada, I wanted to stop by and meet Dr. Oswald J. Smith. I had been greatly blessed by his books, and it was a joy to meet him in person.

As we talked, I told him of our desire to go back to Ireland, and he said, "If you are interested in reaching Catholics in Ireland, you should meet Alex Dunlap from The Conversion Center."

I wrote Alex a letter, telling him we were heading back to New Jersey, and he invited us to come and speak at a meeting in Philadelphia.

Alex asked us about our work, and we shared with him our desire to have some kind of mission board backing for our Irish ministry. Within days, Alex invited us to join The Conversion Center. We did, and within five months we were back in Ireland with enough pledged support to maintain the ministry.

However, just before we left, while unloading our baggage at the docks in New York City, I fell and broke two bones in my heel. So I arrived in Ireland leaning on my crutch.

During this term, we saw much blessing. We are not into numbers, but those professing faith in Christ, both in Belfast where we lived and Co. Louth, Eire, where we labored, far exceeded anything we had previously seen.

An open air work was begun in Dundalk, Co. Louth; a Gospel meeting was held weekly in Ardee, Co. Louth, and we had a fortnightly prayer meeting. I was able to spend 2 days in door-to-door visitation in Southern Ireland, accompanied by a number of young people whom the Lord raised up.

We started a door to door witness in Belfast, and our home was a beehive of activity - all geared to reaching Roman Catholics.

When this term ended, we could see the work in Belfast carried on by Stanley Watkins, and our Co. Louth work continued by Tom and Irene Meaney. Open air work continued, and we had bands of workers both in Belfast and Co. Louth faithfully preaching the Gospel to whosoever will.

We could say as Jacob did, "With my staff (crutch) I crossed this Jordan (Atlantic), and now I have become two bands."

Chapter 9 - Mouse Target Practice

We had started our door to door visitation in Belfast in the notorious Cromac Square, where, several months before, a Protestant protest march had been violently interrupted. It was here the Lord seemed to help Roman Catholics, even in Belfast, to appreciate the difference between a political march and a loving Gospel presentation. Even though we were warned about the danger, our witness was not hindered in any major way, except for a bit of name-calling.

After we left Ireland, Stanley Watkins, who had faithfully preached with us in Dundalk, continued the door to door witness. One of the places he tackled was the Short Strand, which is a stronghold of Romanism in East Belfast.

One of the contacts Stanley made was with Danny and Linda Bryce. They soon became quite open to the Gospel message.

One day the IRA approached Danny, and told him that since he owned his own home, they wanted to use it to store arms for their violent actions in Belfast. Danny refused, and he was told that if he didn't agree, Linda would soon find herself to be a widow.

Several days later, Danny was on a street corner with a friend, and just went around the corner for a bottle of milk. The IRA came down the street, mistook the friend for Danny, and gave him a severe beating.

Danny knew it was meant for him, and within a week he and Linda had escaped to Birmingham, a very Irish city in England.

Some Irish settlements in England, like Kilburn in London, are a truly Irish ghetto. In Birmingham, the Irish spread out over the whole city, and although Stanley had told us about Danny and Linda, finding them seemed an impossibility.

In 1970 we had returned from furlough and felt led to work among the Irish in England, where there are more of them than at home. We concentrated our efforts in Kilburn and Birmingham. Because the Irish were more scattered in the latter city, they were easier to reach with the Gospel.

One day we were in Birmingham visiting our friend Edwin Orton at the Birmingham City Mission. A worker from the Mission came into the office and started to tell about an Irish couple he had just met.

They were Danny and Linda Bryce. Linda, the worker said, seemed very open, but Danny seemed hardened to the Gospel message. At any rate, we got their address and set off to visit.

We went to the home three times that day, and all three times received no answer. Finally, that evening we decided to try again.

Danny was out, but Linda answered the door. By this time her young son was asleep, and it was well that we had the time to spend with Linda without his disturbance.

It was a very small apartment, and not much in the way of modern convenience. Linda told us that during the day, her son amused himself by sitting on the bed throwing his little motor cars at the mice as they scurried across the floor. We were glad not to have that distraction!

That evening, the good seed God used Stanley Watkins to sow was quickened by the Holy Spirit, and Linda trusted Christ as her Savior. When we shared this good news at the Mission, all were overjoyed, but the consensus of opinion was that Danny was very difficult to reach.

When, a few weeks later, we had opportunity to meet Danny, we found that God had softened his heart, and he also trusted Christ.

The chain of events was too good to be coincidental. Stanley had witnessed to the Bryces in Belfast; circumstances caused them to leave and settle - somewhere - in a city of over a million people. The day we are in that city a Mission worker tells of their whereabouts, and they both eventually trust Christ as their Savior.

Chapter 10 - My Father's Land

Knowing we had to establish American residence for our children, all born in Ireland, to retain their American citizenship, Alex Dunlap asked us to move to the West Coast to establish a ministry for The Conversion Center. After getting the family there, I came back to Pennsylvania to visit Alex and pick up a car generously loaned to us by a church in Pennsylvania. I was on my way to California, and that seemed a long way off - especially considering the state of my finances. It did not seem that I had enough money to complete the trip.

I did have two meetings. The first was in a church that had been a supporting church for several years. As is usual in fundamental circles, generous hospitality was extended and, just before a delicious evening meal was provided, the eight year old girl offered me a guided tour of their farm. "This is my father's land," she said, as we went into one field. "My father owns all of this."

As is customary for a friendly Christian eight year old, she continued to narrate the tour of the farm. I have to confess I was thinking more about how I would get back home as my only other meeting was in a tiny church in Alabama.

The chirping voice continued. We had crossed into another field. "This field does not belong to my father,"she said. "But it does belong to my Heavenly Father."

The words so innocently spoken broke upon my heart with profound intensity. The voice of the Lord seemed to say, You'll be traveling through much unfamiliar land on your way home, but it all belongs to your Father.

At the evening service, an offering was received - enough to get me to Alabama but not much to spare. I arrived in Alabama on Saturday, prepared to speak twice on Sunday. After supper on Saturday, the pastor and I were sitting in the living room going back over some of our adventures in Christ together. This pastor was Eddie Young, my best friend from Soldiers of the Cross days, as I mentioned in Chapter 4.

Eddie asked me, "Do you have any specific needs for your work now? We like to have a goal for giving on Sunday."

The obvious answer was forthcoming. "Well, I would like to get back home."

After further chatting about the new work that was to be started in California, Eddie said, "Let's trust the Lord for an offering of $500 for you tomorrow."

He said it seriously that I knew he was not joking, but with the size of the town and the small church, it seemed impossible. I agreed with him, but did not have really abundant faith that $500 would be received.

The next morning in church Eddie seriously said they were trusting the Lord for $500 as a missionary offering that day. After the service, a man thrust a bill into the my hand.

"I won't be able to be here tonight; so, I'd like to give you this toward the offering," he said.

I glanced down. In my hand was a $100 bill, the first one I had ever handled. As we went over for Sunday dinner, I gave the $100 to the pastor, finally feeling confident that I would, at least, get home.

The donor of the $100 was in the evening service, and at the close he called Eddie and me into the church office.

"This morning Brother Eddie said you needed $500," he began, "but this afternoon the Lord told me you needed $5,000."

There, in his outstretched hand, was a check for $5,000 which, of course, was enough not only to get home, but to get the work in California started and bridge the gap between the overseas offerings and home receipts.

"Though we believe not, yet He abideth faithful."

Chapter 11 - Dark Days

When writing a book that tells of God's faithfulness, one is tempted to leave out some very dark spots that occurred. While we all know that "He doeth all things well," there are some things that cause real questions.

When a defeat comes, it is always easy to blame others, but my only responsibility is to endeavor to walk with Him and to know that even the things I do wrong can be used in some marvelous way to promote my life of faith and be a blessing to others.

I do not feel it is necessary for me to understand everything - even though I often try to understand. There were times I just plain utterly failed God, and other times when I sincerely thought I was doing His will but the outcome seemed to be defeat. But who can measure humanly subjective defeat in the light of God's many promises and sure provisions. He knows what is best, and can chastise when we have erred and providentially guide when we trust. Many times we do not know the difference between divine chastisement and the trying of our faith so that it may be perfected.

We do not need to understand; all we need to do is to trust Him Who still doeth all things well. In my experiences I should not desire answers, but I want to continue my hymn,

"No matter if the way be sometimes dark;

No matter though the cost be ofttimes great

He knoweth best how I shall reach the mark

The way that leads to Him must needs be straight."

Chapter 12 - No Need in England

In 1982, 1 was asked to act as interim pastor for a small Baptist Church in Hethersett, England. This church had been without a pastor for years, was dwindling in attendance, and was not fulfilling God's commission to evangelize. It was felt (and it proved to be correct) that four months of consecutive ministry could revive the seemingly lost cause.

Being so small, the church could not provide any salary for me so I trusted the Lord to raise up enough interested folks back home - which He did. All the needs were met for round-trip air fare, and the English church had managed to get a very reasonable place for me to live well within my budget.

A couple of months before departure, I was again visiting the small church in Alabama mentioned in a previous chapter. As was his custom, Eddie Young asked me if there were any needs for the venture to England. I was very pleased to be able to say that every need had been met for the trip.

While I was having lunch in his kitchen, there was a knock at the front door and Eddie answered it. I recognized the voice of the caller as that of the church treasurer. In a few minutes Eddie came back into the kitchen. He handed me an envelope and said, "You can probably buy some fish and chips in England with this."

When I opened the envelope, I found a check for $1,000!

Two weeks later I got an air letter from the secretary of the English church. "We are very sorry," the letter read, "but the plans for your accommodation have fallen through. The only alternative accommodation we can find is several times more expensive. If you cannot manage this, we will understand and will cancel the plans for your ministry here."

Thinking back to my conversation with the pastor, I remembered I knew of no needs. But God did! The $1,000 was enough to cover the difference between the two accommodations - and to buy a few fish and chips as well!

Chapter 13 -1 Don't Believe in Used Cars

For years, I had been trying to learn how to really trust God. I had been inspired by stories of Hudson Taylor, George Mueller and others. I asked God to help me live even a tiny portion of such lives of faith. In spite of many human failings, God is answering that prayer.

This story starts on December 31, 1985. On that day I was to start to drive from California to Louisiana to begin meetings that would continue in Florida. Here I was to meet two English friends that would drive back to California with me, with several meetings on the way back.

An obvious problem would have seemed to be that my car, which the Lord had given me three years before, now had very high mileage. Would it be up to this long trip? It was still running, but showed some signs of old age. The Lord had kept it going for three years, and even the few problems that surfaced had never come at an awkward, inconvenient time.

The problem was that the funds for gas for the trip had not come. In accepting meetings, I always said, "Lord willing," not only because it is biblical (James 4:15) but I really believed I could only make it to a meeting if God got me there. (In 40 years, I had only missed a couple, and the Lord had good reasons for those.)

Since the funds did not come in, I did not leave on December 31. Instead, I booked a flight but the money for that didn't come in, so the New Orleans meeting had to be canceled. At the time, there were at least two sources in California from which I could easily have borrowed the money and, by January 5, 1 could have had the situation wangled so that I was in New Orleans with my car instead of still being home in California.

A few days later, enough money came in for me to fly to Columbia, SC, then by bus and train to Florida for my first meeting. However, I was without a car.

Because a car was needed for the return trip (the intermediate stops would have made alternative travel expensive and almost impossible), I decided to buy whatever I could afford just to make the trip back home.

On Saturday a friend went with me shopping for a car. I did not know exactly how much money I would have. On Sunday, I would preach in a church that usually provided a good offering. So my friend and I more or less settled on a nice looking 1974 AMC Ambassador for the return trip, for $500.

However, the offering received Sunday was not enough to supplement what I had to enable him to buy the AMC; so, an alternate car was sought. After we looked at a 1974 Ford LTD, the owner said, "If you don't want to buy it for $175, make me an offer, as if you don't buy it I'll probably have to junk it."

All of us have seen cars on scrap heaps that looked better than this Ford. The paint job, especially the front half, was shabby; the hood didn't close properly and was at a rakish angle; the front grill was broken in a few places and the front seat was completely threadbare. The car, especially from the front, looked bad!

Later that night a $125 offer for the car was accepted and the next day I picked it up. A few minor problems were overcome when my mechanic friend did some work on it, and it ran well.

The hood was fixed, and a good wash made it look more respectable. But the front seat still looked really bad and, since the car was green, I looked all around town for green seat covers. None of the discount stores had them - almost every other color, but no green!

At church on Wednesday, praise was offered to God for the car He had provided. It seemed that the Lord was going to teach me a lesson of faith by having me drive the old car to California, but that seemed no real problem. I am used to driving old cars, and it was comforting to know that my English friend, with whom I would drive back, was a good mechanic.

On Thursday night, one of the men of the church was driving me back to my motel. As we were driving into the motel parking lot we passed the Ford LTD. It was dark, and as just the back of the car was showing, it didn't look too bad. I told my friend that was the car God had provided. I had also promised him I would loan him a video of a Christian glee club my son was in, but I forgot to give it to him that night.

The next day, I remembered the video, and on my way I stopped at my friend's house to give it to him. He made some insignificant remark about the Ford LTD, now plainly visible.

On my arrival at my host's house later that evening, he told me that the friend to whom I had loaned the video wanted me to see me that evening. As we chatted in the living room, the friend turned to me and said, "I'm a bit concerned about the car you are driving back to California. Do you really expect to make it there?"

"Yes, I'm sure we will make it. Quite a bit of work has been done on it, and it is in pretty good mechanical shape. I've driven a lot worse cars than that, and my English friend is a good mechanic."

"Yes, but it sure doesn't look good. I would not like you driving to churches with a car that looks like that. That front seat really looks shabby. My wife and I have been talking this over, and we'd like to buy you something better to drive home." There was some silence as I tried to frame words of thanks.

"But you know," the friend went on, "I don't believe in used cars. I was at the Mercury dealer this afternoon and saw a really nice new Mercury Marquis. We would like you to have that car for your ministry."

He offered me an alternative if I was not satisfied with the Mercury, but I felt that since God had prompted him to think of the Mercury, that was the car God wanted me to have. The Christian friend wrote out a check to pay for the car in full. . The Mercury was a great blessing to the ministry, and logged over 279,000 miles before it finally died coming over a mountain from Oregon to California.

I thought back over the past month and the doors the Lord had closed, most of them causing me real disappointment. I had been unable to drive my car from California. I had the inconvenience of not having a car for a few weeks. The car I wanted to buy, a nice looking Ambassador, was too expensive. Plans that had been made to spray the Ford LTD had to be abandoned because of lack of time, and the green seat covers, which would have made the car look fairly good, were difficult to find. Then I had forgotten to give the video to my friend and had to go out of my way to the friends house which made a day time observation of the Ford possible which prompted him to realize there was a need.

The friend, as can be surmised, is well-to-do. Because many know of his financial position, there are often pleas and even more hints of an offering for something. In this case, no plea was made or hint given, and the thrill to the hearts of the givers was that it was the Lord Who laid this need on their hearts. What they did, they did as unto the Lord with no human prompting, and therefore they were grateful to Him for having led them to use the resources with which He entrusted them to be a blessing.

The bottom line for me was:

"Disappointment. His appointment; change one letter, and I see that the thwarting of my purpose was His better plan for me. "

Chapter 14 - Miscellaneous

As I look back over God's blessings, I realize that I should have kept some kind of a journal or diary to record all these things. As my mind flits back through the years, other things come to my remembrance, and, very likely, when I have finished this, more things will come to mind. In this chapter will give some events that I remember.

I remember not having any food one day while we were missionaries in Ireland. God had always provided, as you recall, one time with broad beans instead of steak. Now we had our first child, and had some baby food and formula on hand, but nothing for ourselves but an egg, which we shared for breakfast (Of course we had some tea too!). Then we went to prayer.

As I looked at my wife and baby that morning, a sense of conviction made it difficult for me to stay there and pray. So I excused myself, and starting walking the streets, praying silently. As I walked, I passed by a telephone booth (called a kiosk), and, for some unknown reason, opened the door and reached into the return coin holder. There was an American dime.

I walked to the American Express office and waited in line at the currency exchange. The clerk there was used to changing hundreds of dollars, and when I came with my dime for exchange, he may have been surprised. But he didn't register any signs of shock, and gave me nine big Irish pennies. These are about the size of a half-dollar, and make a pretty impressive jingle in your pocket!

I walked back home and went to the butcher shop where they had a sale on sausage meat for eighteen pence a pound. I bought a quarter of a pound for four and one-half pence. I crossed the street to the green grocer, and I asked the price of a head of cabbage. She weighed it and said it would be four and one-half pence. So I arrived back at home with the provision for our noon meal, and God send some money in the afternoon mail to keep us going.

I don't know that before or since I have had sausage and cabbage, but that was a grand meal for us because it came from the hand of God.

In 1982 my son Mark wanted to go to Panama as an exchange student. All the arrangements were made, except for the fact that we needed about $750 for his fare.

A few months before he was to leave, we were driving together through Wyoming when a tractor-trailer ran into us, forcing our car into a ditch. (Looking at the highway later, I saw we had left the road in one of the few spots that did not have something in the median that would have probably resulted in death or serious injury.)

We got back to California where we were living, and the car, now undriveable, was sitting in front of our house. This was during the Med-fly scare, and the Malathion spray made the exterior of the car a very sad sight indeed.

The insurance adjuster from the truck company looked at the car, and said they would get back to me soon with a settlement.

One Sunday I was in Southern California visiting my friends Joe and Ken. Joe was an insurance man, and I told him about my car. He said that the insurance company might try to give me a low settlement, and, if he did, I should just tell him, "I will contact the State Insurance Adjuster."

Monday, back home, I got a phone call from the insurance company. They said they would offer me $275 as a settlement. I said, "I will contact the State Insurance Adjuster." He asked me to hold the line.

When he came back, he offered $775, which was enough to get Mark to Panama. I look upon that as God's provision.

While I was still working with The Conversion Center, I was given names and addresses of pastors I could contact during a visit to Oregon and Washington. From Monday through Friday I tried to make these contacts, but none of them was successful. The pastor was either moved, retired, dead or not interested. I had a meeting Sunday night, and on Saturday I had one name left - Pastor Carl Wheeler from Tumwater, WA.

It was dismal weather as I set out on Saturday morning. After all the discouragements, I really wondered if it were worth a try. Somehow the Lord pulled me up by my shoe laces and started me on the way to Tumwater. The pastor and his wife were very pleasant, and we had a nice chat. After a couple of hours, he asked me where I was going that evening. I replied that I was planning to get a motel. He asked me to stay there; they had a prophet's chamber in the church and I would be quite comfortable.

As we chatted about our ministry and the work of the Lord, Pastor Wheeler asked me to speak in the Adult Sunday School class the next day. He explained that there could be no remuneration, but I was glad for the opportunity.

After the Sunday School class, he asked me to speak in the morning service, and after I had spoken, he said he felt led to take up an offering, which was the Lord's provision as my Sunday evening offering would not have met my needs. None of this was planned (except by God), and I almost missed it because I felt so discouraged.

For years the church contributed to my support and, now retired, Pastor and Mrs. Wheeler still send me a monthly check and encouraging note.

In 1986 the Lord met the need for a trip to the Philippines. Our mission is a faith mission, and never has a lot of money. Yet almost every year for the past fifteen years, God has provided the $1000 for plane fare plus enough to have evangelistic seminars in 50 Filipino cities. He has raised up a Christian friend in Manila who not only provides hospitality as a welcomed break after my times in the provinces, but supplies air fare for trips to the interior.

We have seen souls saved and Filipino pastors greatly helped by the "Do/Done" message. Some pastors say that John Paul II is the Pope of DO and Bill Jackson is the pope of DONE.

One Summer Mark and I went to England on a cheap Air Florida flight ($149 round trip). I held several meetings there, bought a car for use in England which I later was able to give to my oldest son. Mark had a trip to the Continent to visit exchange student friends and God provided the entire need. We flew back to Miami, and had to take a bus to Orlando where I had a meeting the next day.

On arrival at Orlando Greyhound Station, I had 25 cents left - just enough to phone the pastor who picked us up and brought us to our lodging.

With minimal income, we had 12 books and 40 tracts printed. For years we distributed them on a free will offering basis, and more recently have begun our Ephesians 5:11 ministry so that we can offer dozens of books, tapes and videos at discount prices.

When we first started the policy of free will offerings, I'd to check the price of the books against the offerings that were left. At times the offerings seemed inadequate, and I was tempted to worry. At a meeting in Georgia, I looked at the books that were taken, and the offerings left. It didn't look like we had enough money, but on the bottom of the basket was an envelope - containing a one hundred dollar bill. I think that was God's way of telling me not to worry!

In one of our monthly papers, there was an article by Dave Hunt, as well as other information. Later, a Christian was on a bus in Chicago and saw a copy of this old paper. Being a Dave Hunt enthusiast, the information was greatly appreciated, resulting in a $200 donation to our ministry and regular monthly contributions since from a friend whom I had never met. After several years of faithful support, I had fellowship with her and two of her friends at a recent AFEC Conference in Chicago.

Once I bought an old Pontiac in Florida for $275 and drove it thousands of miles. On one occasion, I went to England and left the car in a pastor's driveway. He went on vacation, and, during that time, the car was stolen. This was not reported until the pastor got back from his vacation. The police finally found it in Jaffrey, NH - which seemed to be a favorite place for people to abandon stolen cars. The car was absolutely intact - neither the car nor its contents had been damaged in any way. The police said that was the first time they had ever recovered a car in Jaffrey that had not been stripped and robbed.

Was it was because the tracts on the back seat convicted the thieves or because God had an angel taking care of the missionary's car? Maybe a bit of both!

I can't remember the exact date, but I vividly remember the incident. Mark and I had driven to Ohio, where we were staying in the trailer of a pastor friend who had left for vacation. We were scheduled to go to Florida via Alabama and Georgia, and had barely enough to make the first leg of the trip.

I was lying in bed that night, praying. I remember holding my hand out from the covers and singing a verse of Precious Lord, take my hand.

When we got to Alabama, we stayed with Christian friends whom we had known for several years. Without mentioning the need, they gave us a check for $400, more than enough to take care of the trip to Florida. We even got the car's air conditioning fixed reasonably, as it was hot and humid.

I was preparing for a trip to England on one occasion, and the finances had not yet come in for my fare. I was driving North of Atlanta, when four cars in a row had to stop abruptly. I barely touched the car in front of me, and he could see no damage, so he drove off.

But the car in back of me must have been paying no attention, and rammed into the back of my Mercury Marquis. I was able to drive it back home, and contacted the man's insurance company. I think they were relieved that I was not claiming for whip-lash, and asked me to get an estimate for the repair. I went to Bill's Body Shop in Louisville and got an estimate for over $2,000 which the insurance company paid. Then a friend from church who did body work offered to do all the repairs and give the car a paint job - for $500. Now not only did I have a new-looking car, I had enough for my trip to England.

At one time I was in Florida, and, as I was about to leave, a friend gave me a $100 bill. I was going back to Trenton, NJ by train, pick up my car and proceed to North Jersey for a meeting. On my arrival, I went to the church but couldn't get in contact with anyone. Finally I decided I had better get a motel room and get to the church early Sunday morning.

I checked into what seemed a reasonable motel, and the room cost $70. 1 had to break my $100 bill, and I went to my room, sat on the bed and said aloud, "Lord, what are you trying to do?"

I had counted on that $100 to help with some of our mission expenses and now I really felt discouraged. But I tried to encourage myself in the Lord, went to get something to eat and came back to my room.

A few minutes later there was a phone call from the pastor, apologizing for not being available, and telling me he had paid for a room in that same motel for me, so I went back to the desk, retrieved my $70 and lived happily ever after.

Well, not exactly. There have been more battles and more victories.

It is 14 years since I wrote this story and there have been more of the same - dark spots, great deliverances and above it all, God's faithfulness. I am thankful to God for all He has done for me - eternally and naturally. Aside from a few minor problems connected with getting older, I have always been given strength enough to do any job God gives me to do.

Annual visits to England, Ireland and the Philippines continue, as well as enough meetings to keep me busy and good opportunities to renew fellowships.

A few years ago, while visiting friends in California, a brother asked me if I had a website. When I told him I didn't, he offered to build one for me, and then teach me how to edit it. Now our website - www.dodone.org - is a source of much information on Roman Catholicism, as well as means of evangelism through our tracts and message board. But even after all the deliverances and God's blessing and provision, there is still the human temptation to stop trusting and start worrying. But these are written that, by writing them, I might be encouraged and that, by reading them, you will ask God to help you trust Him more, and pray for me as I walk on to God.

"One thing I know, I cannot say Him nay;

One thing I do, l press toward my Lord

My God, my glory here from day to day

And in the Glory there my great reward."

I will pick up the story in March 2008. Much has happened and God's timing has always been perfect. I had a heart attack in August 2007, which caused me to slow down. Shortly after, the Lord laid it upon the heart of David Birse, a converted Catholic from NH, to offer to come to Indiana to help me in the work. He arrived in February 2008, and we are in the process of getting living accommodation. In the meantime, several families from my home church (the Nunns, Abrogasts, Currys and Eves) have temporarily put me up.

Dave had to return to NH on personal business and so far (August 2008) he has not been able to rejoin me. Please pray for him.

In January 2008 I had the opportunity of another trip to the Philippines. Friends urged me to cancel because of the heart attack, but I was reassured by the Lord that He would use my Filipino Christian friends to help me when I needed it. I had 15 meetings in 19 days, with plenty of time to rest in between. Besides the Metro Manila area, I visited Dipolog for the first time, and renewed acquaintances in Bukidnon.

I am planning for my trip to UK/Ireland, Lord willing, in June. I have 8 meetings confirmed so far, and since God has always manage to get me where I need to be, I am trusting Him.

I had written many articles and books over the years, and felt led to assemble all of these in what I called "CEC Anthology." It is in 10 volumes, approx. 2500 pages, and available from CEC for any free will offering. If the Lord allows, I will add to this from time to time.

Chapter 15 - August 21, 2008.

The Lord raised up many friends to help me during my five week visit to Ireland and England. I had 19 meetings, and my only physically-challenging situation was dragging my luggage up a steep ramp from a bus station to the road where my friend was waiting for me. A bit of rest and a cup of tea soon restored me to fitness!

After a short time in Indiana and a visit to my daughter in Missouri, I prepared for the 20th Annual AFEC Conference in Hermitage, TN. Bro. Champion, our host pastor, was helpful in making this, while small in attendance, a milestone which would launch us into a future that would bring AFEC (Assn of Fundamentalists Evangelizing Catholics) into great blessing and fruitfulness. Our 2009 Conference has already been scheduled from August 9 - 12 in McDaniel, KY.

After AFEC, I stayed with friends for a while, but we had applied for government-subsidized housing, for which I was initially accepted. Then we got a setback in that, while looking over my records, they had found Criminal Activity, which turned out to be a Billy Gene Jackson who had the same birthday and almost identical SS Number. It was decided I should get an interim apartment, into which I moved on August 11 (Billy Gene Jackson's 78th birthday!)

On August 14 I got an e-mail from a friend saying that she could not access our website. Immediately I tried, and all I got was a message saying that for now adhering to rules, the website had been removed. I immediately send an e-mail to my e-mail list, from which I received much encouragement and promises to pray.

I do not know the whole story; friends from NH had received hateful reference to my website which may have resulted in its demise. A friend from FL e-mailed the web provider, and was assured the website would be back online. At 4 p.m. on Friday I received an e-mail from a missionary in Poland telling me dodone.org was back and running. I checked, and sure enough, it was. Whatever the details, God used this episode as a reminder that He is in control, and that He still answers prayer.

On August 21, to bring you right up to date, I received a phone call from the HUD apartment I had applied for, saying their previous problems with me were resolved, and that I could move into my new, larger apartment sometime next week.

In September 2008 I got back in touch with the Christophersons, friends I had stayed with a number of years ago. I was told that if I could come out to SD where they lived, I could get a meeting in their church. The date was set for September 21, and I had an opportunity in the preceeding week to attend a Fellowship of Missions Conference in Elyria, OH.

After Elyria, I spent a few days with the Clays in Michigan. Finding air travel was difficult, so I started on my 25 hour bus trip to Rapid City Sept. 19.

My connection in Minneapolis was missed as the bus was late, and the ladies in the office said I would have to wait 24 hours for the next bus to Rapid City. I told them I couldn't do that as I had to preach in the morning. They finally worked it out by sending me to Fargo, then to Billings, and then back East to Rapid City. This made my bus trip 39 hours, but I got there with over an hour to spare.

To complicate matters further, they lost my luggage, whit which I finally was reunited to in Oklahoma City on October 1. I had been planning to spend 2 weeks with my daughter in Missouri and leave October 15 for Indiana, but a request came for me to take part in a missions conference in Cornerstone Bible Institute in Hot Springs, South Dakota October 20 to 24. I would then fly to Indiana.

On October 16 I was providentially still with my daughter, when her husband had a sudden drop in blood pressure to 60 over 50. The Lord had forseen this, and had worked out my schedule do that I could help her at this time.

I finally got back to Indiana and prepared for my next trip to Georgia, Florida and South Carolina. I have enjoyed rich fellowship with Roger Paluzzi, Gene and Sue Daniel, Sam Acebal, Oscar and Peggy Reedy and my brother Al and his wife Dar. I am now ready for my last stop with Erick and Monica Rothbeck and then home on November 16. I am looking forward to an uninterrupted month in the apartment before going to Missouri in December.

Now it is the last week of January 2009, and we just had a severe snow and ice storm. Half of my apartment lost power for about 18 hours. The electricity came on again a few minutes ago, but there are still hundreds of thousands from Oklahoma to Maine without power.

My knees are giving me problems, and I am praying about the advisability of my scheduled Filipino trip in April.

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