It was the summer of 1978. The blazing summer sun beat down on the 35,000 excited people who had gathered near Salem, Oregon for the Jesus Northwest Festival. Campsites were overflowing with thousands of tents. The scene resembled a Christian version of a Woodstock hippie gathering. Excitement and chaos was in the air.
When Amy Carmichael set off for Japan on her first missionary venture as a young woman in her twenties, almost immediately she faced unexpected disaster. As her ship approached the shoreline, it was caught in the tail end of a typhoon — causing it to pitch back and forth sickeningly, making landing impossible. She had already said a heart-wrenching “forever goodbye” to her beloved friends and family in England. Now, she was completely alone on a foreign ship on the other side of the world, and caught in a deadly storm.
I stood in the middle of our finished basement, my heart sinking as I surveyed the ruined floors and damaged walls. All the furniture and decor was in disarray. Our kids’ blankets, clothes, and toys were scattered in all directions.
Corrie ten Boom once shared an amazing testimony about forgiving one of the cruelest guards in the concentration camp where her sister died. Because of God’s amazing grace, she was able to do what was impossible in her own strength.
It was a snowy day in January 1892 when Amy Carmichael put pen to paper in an attempt to express to her beloved mother that God was calling her to leave everything and pour out her life on a foreign mission field.
My husband Mike was pacing the living room floor as I watched him from the couch.