Chapter 2 the harvey family
THE MUSICAL FAMILY FROM AMERICA
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- GOD’S PROTECTION IN TRAVEL
- JUST ANOTHER MIRACLE
- ALPINE ECHO TEAM
THE MUSICAL FAMILY FROM AMERICAThey had been in the concert business for many years. I had one of their records and even heard them in a live performance years before, so when they wrote, asking if we could arrange a concert for them on their World Tour, we were delighted to give an affirmative reply. They gave us the date of their arrival, saying that they would arrive late, be tired and just need a good night's rest. They would be ready for a concert on the following evening. Oh yes, there were four of them, since their two teenage children were now part of the group. On June 2, 1971, everything was ready. We arranged for them to sleep in our beds while we and the children slept on air mattresses in the living room. I had reserved a hall and rented a good sound system as requested. We distributed handbills and pasted posters all over the city. It was not a good time of the year for concerts, but we did what we could to assure a good attendance. The musical family arrived early and all of them were hungry. Austrians eat their main meal at noon, but the musical family let us know that they wanted a hot meal. Verna tried to thaw a chicken as fast as possible (no microwaves then!) while I entertained them in the living room. Mrs. musical family wanted to see the beds. She frowned and said the mattress was too hard. She sent her musical husband to the rented vehicle for a roll of foam rubber, which they always had along when on tour. Both children were allergic to feather pillows, so we gave them the throw pillows from the sofa, which a Women's Missionary Society had given us, stuffed with old nylon stockings. Verna performed a near miracle to get a delicious meal prepared and on the table by six o'clock. After thanking the Lord, Mr. musical family asked where and when the concert was to begin. I told him and he said, "Not tomorrow's concert, the one we have tonight." "Oh, there is no concert tonight,“ I said, "You wrote that you didn't want a concert the same night you arrive." His face turned a dark grey and he retorted, "I never wrote anything of the kind! Certainly, you didn't think that we would be sitting around doing nothing when most of the world is on its way to hell!" "I'm sorry about the mix up," I said, "but if you really want to sing and play tonight, there are evangelistic tent meetings concluding in Linz tonight, and they would probably be happy to give you part of the program." He gave his assent and I quickly looked at my watch as I headed for the telephone. A moment later, I was back and announced that everything had been arranged. We would need to hurry to get to the tent in time for the meeting. I went to get our car ready while they changed into their concert costumes. When they came out of the house, Mr. musical family saw that it was starting to rain and said, "Oh no, we can't take our instruments into a tent if its raining. The dampness would ruin them!" The rest of the musical family followed their master back into the house. I had to make another quick call and apologize for the change. I am certain that the Lord sent that rain to prevent the last evangelistic meeting in the tent from becoming a disaster. The musical family toured the "Sound of Music" country all of the next day. After their hot meal, we set up for the evening concert. When it was time to begin, I was disappointed in the turnout. The hall was only half filled, and as far as I could ascertain, they were all Christians from evangelical churches of the city. The musical family went through its well-worn routine, interspersed with stories and testimonies which I translated into German. After a while, Mr. Musical Family began his evangelistic message, followed by an invitation to accept Christ as Savior. Mrs. Musical Family played a soft accompaniment on the piano while he prayed, asking folks to come forward and commit their lives to Christ. No one responded and he kept repeating the offer. He then said that there had been souls saved in every one of their concerts all around the globe. He was certain that God was speaking to someone in that very room and he could wait because all eternity was at stake. I never liked translating, especially prayers. After what seemed like the eternity he spoke of, Mr. Musical Family concluded his prayer and they sang their final number. Before they left the next day, I found their letter to me and showed it to them. There was no apology but simply a shrug of the shoulder. Some time later, I was at a conference and met the missionaries who hosted the Musical Family just before they came to us. They had similar experiences including the pronouncement that souls had been saved in every city around the globe - except theirs. GOD’S PROTECTION IN TRAVELIt was June, 1973, and time for a furlough. Normally, we would look for the cheapest charter flight, but we had become friends with the Austrian director of "Lufthansa," who was a fine Christian and member of a Baptist church in Vienna. When he asked us why we didn't fly with a "good airline," we said we couldn't afford it. He then explained that the few dollars saved could not compensate for the inconveniences incurred: late arrivals, having to leave or arrive at unearthly hours, limited baggage allowances and poor service. Charter planes cut costs everywhere they can, packing more seats into the same space, purchasing aging planes from airlines like "Lufthansa" and hiring cheap personnel to service and fly them. He finally convinced us by offering to get us tickets at rock-bottom rates. The pastor of a church in a neighboring town heard that we were flying to America and contacted us. "We want to visit relatives in Canada. Could you get us tickets when you get yours?" Our friend was happy to cooperate, and we ordered tickets for nine persons. We would be flying in a "747 Jumbo Jet," and our children just couldn't wait for the trip to America! Soon after receiving the tickets, we bought them a toy die-cast "747 Jumbo Jet" that even had "Lufthansa" painted on the side. Within hours, one set of wheels had broken off the toy airplane. As we tried to dry the tears of our six-year-old, he muttered, "I hate Jumbo Jets when their wheels break off!" We assured him that such things don't happen to real Lufthansa Jets. The day of our flight finally arrived. Friends in Salzburg had agreed to take us to the Munich Airport, but about halfway there, we found ourselves in a gigantic traffic jam. Nothing was moving, and news soon filtered through that a truck had jackknifed and spilled its cargo across the entire Autobahn. There was nothing we could do but sit, wait, and pray. We prayed, "Lord, if you want us on that plane, you can hold it for us!" By the time cars began to move, it was already past departure time and it took another hour to get to the terminal. We recalled our friend from Vienna telling us, “Lufthansa is never late!” We worked our way through throngs of tourists to the check-in counter and asked if there was any possibility that our tickets would be honored for a later flight. Imagine our surprise when the girl at the desk informed us that our plane was still standing on the runway! She explained that the air controllers had called a strike, and no planes were allowed to land or take off. They had no sooner checked our baggage when the announcement was made that the strike had been settled and planes were cleared for takeoff. Right there in the airport, we bowed our heads with our friends and thanked the Lord for answering our prayers. Once in the air, the friendly voice of our pilot greeted his passengers in German and English, apologizing for the delay. He then explained that we would be making an unscheduled stop in Cologne to pick up passengers who had been stranded due to the same strike. He went on to explain that winds across the Atlantic were favorable, and we should be able to make up for some of the lost time. The stopover in Cologne was very brief, and we were soon speeding down the runway again. Moments before our fully-loaded plane lifted off, we heard a loud bang, and a stewardess sitting near us unbuckled her seat belt and ran toward the front of the plane. We gained altitude rapidly, and after a few minutes, we heard the pilot's voice once again. He explained that there had been a "technical problem" during take-off. He was sorry to announce, that there would be another delay; we had to make another landing in Frankfurt for repairs. Verna and I began to pray. We soon saw the city of Frankfurt below us and our plane began to circle as though preparing for a landing. Everyone around us looked nervous, wondering what kind of a technical problem had occurred. Then the pilot spoke again, with a calm and almost too reassuring tone of voice. "I have good news to report," he began. "We have gotten clearance to fly on to New York after all." There was a pause, and then he continued, "It appears that we lost a wheel during take-off from Cologne. I explained to the ground personnel that if there should be any trouble landing, it wouldn't make a difference whether we are in Frankfurt or New York. Besides, we would have to jettison our fuel in order to land in Frankfurt." He then wished us a good flight. I looked down at our six-year-old, clutching his toy 747 with the broken wheels! The children had apparently failed to comprehend what the pilot was saying. We looked around and could see panic written on many faces. We bowed our heads and prayed, leaving ourselves in God's hands. Suddenly, I was filled with a feeling of deep peace. It occurred to me that we had from the very beginning prayed about this flight. It would have been an easy matter for the Lord to allow us to miss the plane. There was the accident, and then the strike and answered prayers. Certainly there was a purpose in our being on board this particular flight! I shared these thoughts with Verna. When the seat-belt lights were turned off, I walked back to our friend with his family and shared the same thoughts with them. They too had received peace from the Lord and had already had an opportunity to share Christ and pray with someone. We had opportunity to witness to passengers around us. A couple from the Midwest, who had been visiting their daughter and her military husband, were seated just behind us. They confessed to be Christians, but that they had strayed from the Lord. Before we landed, they rededicated their lives to Christ. Once Verna had to visit the rest room, and another passenger stopped her in the aisle and asked if she was a Christian. There were more of God's children on board! The flight across the Atlantic was uneventful, but everyone seemed quite aware that our landing in New York could bring disaster. It was interesting to note how unbelievers reacted in the face of possible death: alcoholic beverages were offered free of charge, so many drank heavily; others tried to sleep or distract themselves in some way. Some were soking in the no smoking zone, but no one complained. As we descended for the landing, the crew took their positions by the emergency exits. There was no need for the pilot to comment on the situation. As the huge plane approached the runway at JFK, we beheld a scary sight below. Everywhere were the flashing red and blue lights of emergency vehicles. The ground came nearer and nearer. We could hear the pilot lowering the landing wheels -- or what was left of them. The landing was the softest we have ever experienced. We never knew when the plane touched the ground. At first, there was a deathly silence on board, but as the plane began to roll down the runway with no signs of problems, the passengers released their pent-up emotions with long and loud applause. The danger was not yet past however. The pilot could not apply the brakes and we rolled for what seemed an eternity before the plane came to a stop. Firemen, mechanics and special inspectors converged upon the plane to check it thoroughly before we were allowed to taxi into the terminal. As we left the plane, the captain greeted each passenger personally. We thanked him for his masterful job, but he responded by saying: "It was a computer landing. I had nothing to do with it." We said that we were praying and he responded, "This is the first time I have landed at JFK when there was absolutely no wind!" We had to walk from the plane to a bus and could see clearly what had happened. One entire outer tandem with four wheels had broken off. Probably because it would have put the plane off balance, the pilot didn’t lower the wheels under either wing. Eight wheels under the wings of our 747 Jumbo were not useable and we landed on the two tandems under the belly plus a pair of nose wheels! About 40 friends of the church and relatives were waiting in the airport to greet us. They had been waiting quite some time due to the delays and were very relieved to see us coming through the gate with three little kids and baggage in tow. There was much embracing and my parents were especially eager to get their arms around their three grandchildren, one of which they had never seen. My brother Bob had just been released from military service in Vietnam. He said, "Some plane must have been having trouble out there. I never saw so many emergency vehicles in all my life! I was a little concerned that it might be yours." JUST ANOTHER MIRACLE?It seems that we experience so many miracles, that we begin to take them for granted. Only the exceptional situations seem to grab our attention. The following is an excerpt from a letter I wrote to Walter Jenkins, of our home church, on May 4, 1968. That was five years earlier than our experience aboard the Lufthansa 747. We experienced the mighty working of the Lord here at GMU yesterday. The Directors and office workers wrapped up their work for the weekend and left for home. After supper in the Mission Home, most of us had retired to our rooms when the telephone rang and someone answered. It was a long distance call from Dallas, Texas. A distraught voice on the other end reported, "Keith Austin was to arrive in Dallas at 4:58 PM aboard Braniff International Flight 352. He was enroute to Kansas City for the GMU General Council Meeting (Keith is Field Director for Ecuador). The voice faltered for a moment and then continued with emotion, "A report has just come in that Flight 352 exploded in the air and crashed. Of the 79 passengers and 5 crew members, none are believed to have survived." Radio reports confirmed the news. Braniff had 16 daily flights between Houston and Dallas. The pilot of Flight 352, a 4-engine turboprop Electra, radioed in at 4:14 and estimated his arrival time at 5:03 (five minutes late), but the plane never arrived. There were no survivors. The Mission Directors were hastily notified and within minutes they were back at the mission for special prayer together with staff members and missionaries (including ourselves). About an hour later, the phone rang again. The caller said, "This is Keith Austin, calling from Dallas." Keith had been overcome by hunger while waiting for his flight in Houston. When he discovered that he could take the next flight and still make his connection for Kansas City, he asked an attendant if this would be possible. The May Gospel Message had already been mailed and contained an article by Doris Austin, wife of Keith Austin. She wrote about God’s protection in travel. Gospel Message, May 1968 WITHOUT INCIDENT by Doris Austin, Ecuador If you would ask Mr. and Mrs. Average Ecuadorian about how they fared on a recent trip, they would most likely answer, "Oh, it was `sin novedad' (without incident )." What to them is a very routine, ordinary, run-of-the-mill trip, to one of us seems quite replete with close shaves, nagging delays, overworked drivers and neglected equipment. Take my recent return trip from Colombia, for instance. We left Tulcan in a bright orange bus that shimmied altogether too much to suit me. Before I had too much chance to worry about it · we had already sideswiped a truck that appeared to be parked on the right side of the road. Just as we were about to pass, the truck moved toward the left. Our bus and the truck were sandwiched together without room enough in between even for butter! The irate drivers of both vehicles, aided and abetted by the passengers, jumped down and began the customary shouting and arm waving. Someone suggested trying to separate the bus from the truck and some, at least, closed their mouths long enough to "heave to." We were on our way only to resume the battle at the traffic control station a few blocks down the road. When we finally were permitted to continue the trip, the driver was minus his license. On the plus side he had one ragged disposition! As we weaved along over roads "under construction" things seemed to be settling down to uneasy normalcy when the conductor, who rides hanging on to the outside of the bus, banged frantically on the roof to signal the driver to stop. "Now what?" I sighed. A piece of baggage had fallen off and he had to run back to retrieve it. On the way again. "Nothing but delays," grumbled the man beside me. Suddenly the driver was all excited. "Leave it alone, don't touch it!" he yelled at the man seated at his right. ('There was a passenger to his left, too.) Someone had placed a car battery to the right of the chauffeur's feet and the acid was oozing out and running down the aisle of the bus. Without slowing down noticeably, the offending passenger was duly cursed. Some of the acid was wiped up. Ten hours and four customs checks later we arrived in Quito “without incident." I pondered this trip and the many others that are made yearly by missionaries here in Ecuador. They add up to thousands of miles. I marveled at the Lord's mercy and protection on the land, on the sea and in the air. There have been narrow escapes and minor injuries, but no fatalities that I know of. "To God be the glory; great things He hath done." ==== * ==== Editor Stenbock had just finished editing a second article by Doris Austin for the Autumn Gospel Message, which was titled "Vehicles." VEHICLES by Doris Austin--- Ecuador The Bible says that Elijah ascended into heaven in a chariot of fire, drawn by horses of fire in the midst of a whirlwind ( II Kings 2:11 ). I have often wondered if Elijah hesitated to seat himself in that blazing buggy or if his trust in God was so complete that he immediately surrendered himself to his flaming UFO. The Scripture points out that the prophets were subject to like passions as we are (James 5:17), so I wouldn't be too surprised if Elijah had turned his head the other way as he drew his robes about him, objecting all the while in just about the same manner as you and I would have done. "Look, Lord, it's sizzling! I'll be a cinder before I pass the third heaven! How about it, Lord, wouldn't it be just as easy to fix me a cooler car- like a cloud coach, maybe?!" God didn't allow Elijah to choose the vehicle that would convey him to celestial heights. He expected his servant to accept with joy and confidence the vehicle of his choice - and the whirlwind that went with it! Life's trials and testings are vehicles. Too often too many of us look upon our testings as crosses to be borne with dignity and resignation instead of recognizing them as the vehicles that God intends them to be. Vehicles designed to bear us (not be borne by us) closer to God, nearer to his heart that we “..may know him, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of his sufferings..." (Phil. 3:10) Although these vehicles come in all shapes, sizes and colors, they have but one Designer-God, and one design-to lift us to Him that He may reveal himself to us in all His fullness. A few years ago I attended a meeting where a friend, a missionary for many years here in Ecuador, was to give her testimony. Delores' death sentence had already been written. Cancer. Her face was radiant and her spirit triumphant. She testified that it was worth all her suffering to come to know her Lord as He revealed Himself to her during her illness. She had mounted the fiery vehicle that the Lord, in His wisdom, had prepared for her, and the victory that shone on her face was confirmed in her smile. After the meeting was over she came up to me to inquire about Michael, my retarded son. "And how is Mikey?" she asked. "Oh, he's just fine," I assured her. Her next statement shook me. I'd so much rather have cancer than to have a retarded child," she said. "Your trial is so much more difficult than mine." "Oh, no!" I objected, "I'd much rather have Mikey than cancer." On the way home I pondered her words and thought of another missionary friend whose vehicle came twice in the form of a small coffin. Two precious children died in infancy here in Ecuador where she and her husband are serving. Not long before, she had remarked to me, "You know, Doris, I'd much rather have buried two children than to have a retarded one." Again my heart rebelled. "Never!" I cried. "I'd a thousand times rather have Mikey than to have twice buried my heart beneath the cold mountain soil!" Slowly the truth seeped into my heart and brain. God chooses the right vehicle for each of His children. Cancer for Delores, two dead babies for Marion, years of widowhood for the wives of Auca-speared missionaries and a mongoloid son for me. Different vehicles, carefully chosen by a loving Father, the Master Designer. The one He chooses for me may not be suitable for you at all, nor yours for me. “ . . but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able. . ." (I Cor. 10:15). A trial can be a cross or it can be a vehicle. It all depends if it's riding you or if you are riding it! Christ's cross became the vehicle through which He drew all men unto Himself (John 12:32). Don't flinch from the furious flames that surround your chariot or pull against the stubborn stallions that seem to be drawing it. Climb up, get in and let it carry you to the unknown and glorious heights that God, in His love, has prepared for you. ==== * ==== ALPINE ECHO TEAMDuring our 1973 furlough, we invited eight musically-gifted young people to the United States for an evangelistic musical tour. We sang, played and preached in many churches, camps, schools and even in restaurants where we ate. Because our musical numbers took up most of the time, the message had to be short. One message proved to be quite effective, so I preached it over and over. Even the youth who knew no English had practically memorized the message. I would ask the audience what they thought the worst word in the English language was. Death? Sickness? War? Hate? People made many other suggestions, but I just read Psalm 127:1-2 and most people got the phrase that I was thinking of. The phrase "in vain" appears three times. No matter what we do or don't do, this dreaded phrase is lurking just around the corner, ready at any moment to disrupt our lives, pounce on us, destroy our plans and rob us of joy. Nothing is safe from that threat, "in vain." We can go to bed in vain; sleep just doesn't come. Or, we can get up in the morning in vain; we should have stayed in bed! We can work, buy, sell, marry, rear children and even live or die in vain! If a person is frequently attacked by this unscrupulous villain, he or she may be driven to alcohol, drugs or even suicide. A common reaction is simply to lose interest in life and become despondent. Of course there are also stubborn individuals, who just keep pounding their heads against the wall in hopes that their luck will change. The Bible gives us the prescription for dealing with this threat in the next chapter: "Except the Lord build the house, they labor in vain that build it: except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain. It is vain for you to rise up early, to sit up late, to eat the bread of sorrows: for so he giveth his beloved sleep." (Psalm 127:1-2) Whether we are still building or have already created a cozy nest for ourselves, we are told that all is in vain if we have not reckoned with God. Investments and overtime, sweat and tears are in vain. We can equip our homes with deadbolts, lightning rods, fire and burglar alarms, but without God's protection, all is in vain. A pianist once told me that he worried constantly that something could happen to one of his fingers and ruin his career. All those years of practice would have been in vain. Only after yielding his life to Christ did he find peace. The Apostle Paul wrote, "Whatsoever is not of faith, is sin." (Romans 14:23) The Greek word for "sin" means "to miss the target". One could also say, "in vain," but life doesn't need to be in vain. The "Alpine Echo," as we called ourselves, was able to visit many points of interest in the northeastern part of America. They were fascinated with Washington D.C. and enjoyed visiting the Air-Space Museum, Smithsonian Institute, the Mint, Arlington Cemetery and the Washington Monument. While waiting in the lobby for a tour of the White House to begin, I suggested that we sing one of our songs for the people around us. Everyone thought that this was a great idea -- except for FBI Agents! I overheard one of them speaking into his walkie-talkie: "There is a group of foreigners here staging what appears to be another anti-Vietnam war demonstration." I approached the agent and assured him that everything would be all right; these youth were merely singing so they could tell their friends in Europe that they had sung in the White House! The FBI Agent then called off the warning and encouraged us to sing some more! We visited the Amish country around Lancaster and toured the chocolate factory in Hershey, Pennsylvania. There was a long line of tourists waiting to get into the chocolate factory. It was very hot and many were in a bad mood, grumbling about the long wait in the hot sun. We had to walk up a ramp, which had a sort of platform at the top where one could look out over the heads of all those still waiting. When we reached this spot, I suggested singing a song, but after the experience in Washington, the singers couldn't get up the nerve or perhaps they were just shy. I cupped my hands around my mouth and called loud and clear, "May I have your attention please!" The choir members turned to me and said, "We said that we are NOT going to sing here; are you trying to embarrass us or something?" In the meanwhile, the crowd had grown silent and stood expectantly, waiting to hear some important announcement that was about to be made. I turned towards the crowd and said, "Thank you ladies and gentlemen; I like attention!" The crowd broke into laughter and all grumbling ceased. Now there was something else to talk about. Often our team was invited to stay in private homes; on one occasion, two girls, who knew very little English, stayed with a couple that knew no German. When the girls showed up at the breakfast table with no shoes on their feet, the man of the house asked if they liked to go barefoot in Austria, but they didn't understand. He borrowed their German-English dictionary and, after taking a few notes, tried again. The girls blushed and said, "You had better let Ralph interpret." They later told me that he had asked them if they liked to go naked in Austria! That same couple collected antiques, so they gave us a royal tour of their lovely home, concluding it in the basement. As he opened the door of a small closet, he pointed to his most prized antique: an old toilet with a pull-chain for flushing. The youth were unimpressed. Most of them had toilets like that in their own European homes. After traveling countless miles and singing in many churches, one of the girls, Michaella, said that she thought she could identify a church's denomination by the outward appearance of its edifice. She went on to explain: "Pentecostal churches are usually made of wood and have small steeples or none at all; Methodist and Presbyterian Churches are generally built of stone; Baptist Churches are of brick or wood and are usually surrounded by a big parking lot containing several school busses." After a pause, she added, "There is one church that I'm not sure about; what kind of church is a Bingo-Church?" We visited personal friends in Guys Mills, Pennsylvania, who treated the team to home-made ice cream with maple syrup topping. They had three children and a fish aquarium. Seeing the fish, one of the youth said that Walter, our pianist, had eaten raw minnows right out of the lake. Our host said that he would have to see that to believe it and offered to sacrifice a couple of Black Molly fish. Walter agreed to demonstrate his special talent. After filling his mouth with water from the tap, two black molly fish were caught with a net and mercilessly dumped into their death trap. While girls squealed and turned their heads, I took a picture of the doomed creatures taking their last swim before being flushed into Walter's stomach. The son of our host was ecstatic at this marvelous feat. He disappeared into the cellar and soon returned with a small toad, which he offered Walter for dessert! Directory: documents documents -> Concept stage documents -> Concept stage documents -> The great global switch-off documents -> Nonprofit grant application documents -> The Truth about the Rwandan Genocide documents -> Annual InStructional unit plan documents -> Chaos equipment included Download 2.2 Mb. Share with your friends:
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