Yes, Prayer Changes Things, by Sally

During the early years of our married life, after reading the book, Jungle Pilot, my husband came to me and said that God was calling him to be a missionary pilot. And of course, being the sweet, nice, Christian, young wife that I was, I said "NO WAY!! " I had visions of me pounding clothes on rocks in a faraway stream.

My husband, Maurice, had been a flight instructor and aircraft mechanic for several years. After reading of Nate Saint's life and commitment to God, he was moved, and God did call him to serve Him on the mission field.

Besides the pounding clothes on a rock thing, I had other problems. We had three little boys that I dearly loved and was concerned for their education and welfare in a faraway land. Also, when I was in my early teens I saw a missionary film of a missionary couple walking off into the jungle, leaving behind their two little children in the hands of the native nannies. The kiddies were sobbing, with hands held out to their parents, and their parents just turned their backs and trotted off into the jungle. I never forgot that. There is no way I would do that to my precious sons.

And of course, there is the bug thing. I envisioned big, creepy, crawly bugs everywhere. So NO, I would not be a missionary. Maurice could go and send a postcard occasionally, but not me and my little guys.

My husband is a smart man. He is a Vase. A Vase is a director and always, now I am saying ALWAYS, has forward motion. For some it is a slow forward motion, but forward nonetheless. When we talk about a picture for a man's temperament, people usually say it should be a steamroller. That is very accurate. Men Vases usually like to CHARGE ahead. However, in this case, Maurice just waited. He waited and prayed. And prayed. And prayed.

He never bugged me about it. Occasionally we would talk about it, but he never gave me the feeling that he was pushing me about it.

For a year God and I struggled. He would gently convict me. I would loudly say NO. He would wait awhile and gently convict me again. Again I would say No. Then No. Then no. After a year of this I was beginning to want it to end. So the inevitable happened. I had gone to our Sunday eve service at church and saw a missionary film about a Dr. Carlson who had died in Africa at the end of the Mao Mao rebellion. At the end of the film an alter call was given for missionary service. God had me in a place of knocking anyone down that stood in my way of me and that alter. I had come to a place of giving in no matter what. No matter the native nannies, no matter pounding clothes on a rock, no matter even the bugs. I was ready to surrender. And I did.

All that began another huge adventure of being part of two lovely mission groups and going on three missionary journeys. And it didn't take me long to find out that missionaries now had modern washing machines to do their laundry, besides very good house help for those tasks. Bugs are controlled by wonderful Tupperware. I never turned my back on my boys and walked into the jungle. Instead, we stood and watched the planes lift away that carried those precious boys off to the dreaded Boarding School. Now that is another blog story. But even in that discomfort and pain, God provided.

I am so grateful that my husband had the wisdom to leave me alone and just pray. My Velvet Box would have exploded if he would have pushed me. What is so unusual is that neither of us knew then about Velvet Boxes and Vases. But God did. He knows me and he knows Maurice. God knew that it would be the faithful praying of my faithful husband to get us to our desired goal, being in His will.

Yes, prayer does change things.

Blessings.