Crocodile Island,* a very remote island more than 1,000 kilometers (620 miles) from Riverside Farm Institute, where my family is stationed as missionaries, is a two- to three-day journey of rugged travel in the Northern Province of Zambia. The Riverside evangelism and medical teams had planned the largest outreach program yet—providing three weeks of meetings to three different villages on the island simultaneously, while the dental and medical team provided free health care, and construction crews built three churches. The island, positioned in Lake Tanganyika, is named after its resembling shape, but the name could also easily represent the sort of untamed and even dangerous nature of life there. With a population of about 5,000 in three villages, this area had no church, no school, and no medical facility. Of all the evangelistic efforts over the years, this one was planned with the utmost attention. Yet never had one been met with more complications and roadblocks along the way.
After two days of driving, we were now 45 minutes from our destination. I was admiring the long winding view of the road ahead, thinking of how it hadn’t changed from the picture I took at that exact spot a year before. It felt exhilarating to be so close. I commented that the lake was just beyond the visible road and hills that lay ahead. Then, without warning, our Land Cruiser and the trailer being pulled behind us lost control. All focus was on the side of the mountain we were careening toward. Time seemed to slow down. My mind became hyperaware of every millisecond leading up to the impact. It all happened too fast for me to respond, or even to clear my thoughts to pray. We hit the mountainside, and the trailer behind us unhitched and was thrown off the road. The vehicle rolled onto its left side and began to slide down the road until it hit a ditch that rolled us back up on our wheels.
There was a half second of stillness and darkness as a thick cloud of dust blocked the light. My first impulse was to check on the children, but I couldn’t see a thing. Then, all at once, they started screaming. Bloodstained boys emerged screaming, “Winston!” My 5-year-old son’s head had been dragged along on the road through his broken window, tearing his scalp to the skull as the car slid down the hill. When everyone was assessed to be alive, I sent a radio message to the vehicle in the caravan ahead of us to call for help. Because they were out of view, I didn’t realize they had seen the accident. My close friend, Rebecca, had watched the whole thing with horror, as her son, Benjamin, was in my vehicle.
Yes, that was a terrifying hour. But we would soon learn that this was no random, isolated event. The enemy was not happy about our plans to share Jesus on Crocodile Island, and he would try to fight back.
Enemy Attacks
Two weeks before our accident, the bus transporting the majority of the outreach team struck and killed a man who had run into the street to commit suicide. The driver was ultimately cleared, but it was, nonetheless, a traumatizing experience that also caused unanticipated delays. Shortly thereafter, as we began our journey, my husband, Craig, barely averted a similar fate. Swerving into the opposite lane, he just missed striking a man who emerged from behind a passing truck as he ran across the road. He had almost killed a man!
As work on the island began, our medical leader, Beaver Eller, got severely electrocuted, and had he been grounded, the current would have been strong enough to kill him. The projector and speakers that were previously in good working order suddenly malfunctioned right before the meetings were to start. The truck hired to deliver all the church building supplies was hijacked, jeopardizing the church building operation.
While the church was being built, fires that were not started by anyone kept popping up all around the church. The workers would put one fire out and continue to build, only to have another one pop up. They would put it out and go back to building. This happened the whole time the church was being constructed.
During the meetings a 17-year-old demon-possessed girl came seeking deliverance. As they prayed over her and burned her ritual clothes, she lost control of herself and was being pushed by an unseen force toward the fire. Once the clothes of her past life were consumed, she was delivered, and started studying the Bible with one of our team members.
The day following the meeting on what the Bible says about witchcraft and sorcery was intense. The dental and medical team tried to cross the lake to do a medical outreach on the other side when they almost capsized in the high waves. The water was calm and the sky was blue when they began their journey; then all of a sudden the waves were raging and the wind intense. The boat engine stopped and wouldn’t start again. The little team on the boat started praying, singing, and worshipping. After the prayer the engine started. They turned the boat around as people on the hill watched to see if they would make it back to shore alive. “Someone was supposed to die,” said one witness who saw the struggle on the water below.
That same day one of our vehicles broke down in the middle of nowhere. My husband waited with the vehicle until the next day for help from the nearest town. We soon learned that the brakes on the fourth vehicle that was on their way to join us failed.
And this is only a sampling of the obstacles we faced during the evangelistic effort.
God knew what lay before us, and intercessory prayer was going up for us before we even knew why.
But God . . .
There I sat in the middle of a dirt road, pressing a loose shirt on Winston’s head to control the bleeding. My heart sank at the realization that my child was a trauma patient and the nearest health facility would be ill-equipped to care for him. Even now, tears well up in my eyes as I relive those thoughts. We were two days away from home.
But I forbear to elucidate anymore on the devil’s work. I want to highlight how much greater God is than the devil.
As soon as Rebecca saw the accident, she called her husband, Beaver, an experienced emergency room health-care provider who was on the boat that almost capsized earlier that day. Because they had rerouted, he had just finished unloading at a closer campsite—one more accessible to transportation. Rebecca had a blip of network access to make the phone call and then didn’t have signal the rest of the way to town. After I called Craig, my network failed too. The locals who heard our story swear that you cannot get a phone signal in that area. But God connected Rebecca’s call, and Beaver met us at the local hospital faster than we could have dared hoped. His skilled care was a great comfort in that simple hospital facility while we remained there.
Stranded hours away from us, Craig frantically made calls in search of a private plane or medical evacuation flight to take us to Lusaka (the capital city with the most equipped emergency facilities). No one was available until the next day. But then God interposed. Without any personal connections of our own, God provided a military flight out, in the middle of the night! We arrived in Lusaka two hours and 45 minutes from takeoff. Later we were told how impossible our intervention was—the air force never does evacuations, medical or otherwise. But God made a way.
In his greatest distress Winston cried more about severe abdominal pain than about his head injury. Later two of my close friends said that they had specifically prayed for God to heal any internal bleeding. By the time we arrived at the hospital, the pain in his abdomen had almost subsided, and the scan came back completely clear. God did something.
In the United States a close friend of the Ellers (whose son was in my vehicle) said she woke up in the middle of the night and felt a strong impression to pray specifically for Benjamin. Thankfully, after he recovered from his mild concussion, he checked out completely OK.
At the last church vespers meeting before we left on the evangelistic trip, the speaker shared a heartfelt devotional and pleaded with the church to intercede in prayer for the evangelism team. He expressed special concern for our group traveling two days later to join the rest of the team. I remember thinking, That’s nice, but we don’t need special prayer. We experience this trip every year, and it’s no big deal to go. Little did I know how much we would need those prayers, but God knew what lay before us, and intercessory prayer was going up for us before we even knew why.
Our God Is Greater
A kind missionary couple who lived a few kilometers from the hospital we first arrived at heard of our accident and showed up at the hospital to help. They graciously opened their home to our group that night. They had been faithfully serving there for 25 years, and when they heard where we were heading, they said, “That is a really bad area! We have seen so many missionaries come and leave after trying to work in that area, some leaving with strange illnesses and complications.” We weren’t the only ones the devil had cast down. But greater than the work of the enemy is our God! On the last Sabbath of the evangelistic meetings, 68 souls gave their hearts to Jesus and were baptized!
Before our trip I had picked out a theme song for our team. It’s a song right out of 2 Corinthians 4:6-9. I taught it to my children, and we sang it during family worship every night. I practiced the accompaniment on my guitar, and I taught it to a few friends as well. The words of this scripture rang in my mind for days:
“For God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God’s glory displayed in the face of Christ. But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed” (2 Cor. 4:6-9, NIV).
After reflecting on my personal experiences and listening to all the stories being shared around ours, the words of this text struck me with new meaning. That was it: It was the light of God’s Word being shone through darkness being battled here! God had been shining through the hearts of the team on Crocodile Island to share God’s Word and His love! We were but humble, simple jars of clay—the means of sharing this great treasure from God’s Word. And the devil was attacking the jars of clay holding that treasure of truth and divine love.
Oh, yes, we and others had been hard pressed on every side. I have only brushed the surface in this retelling. There were perplexing moments. We were struck down, but by the grace of God, not destroyed! How intentional and personal God was, knowing what lay before us, to give me that promise to claim and hold on to, before we knew we needed it. How kind of Him to plant in my mind the words I would later refer back to for encouragement.
And an encouragement it has been! I am personally more motivated than ever before to let Jesus’ light shine through my life. Let Him do what He will! There is a world full of so much darkness and sin. So much evil. So much sorrow. My purpose is renewed to seek more of Jesus so that He can shine through with greater power. The devil won’t win. He has already lost. We serve a powerful God who deserves all glory, both in distress and victory. I am humbled, and challenged, and grateful, to be serving Him.
God never said we wouldn’t experience tribulation. In fact, He promises that we will. But He has also promised that He will be there with us in the midst of it all. What a wonderful, powerful, good God we serve.
Crocodile Island now has a full-time Bible worker. One year later the Riverside team visited to encourage the new believers and found the new church with about 80 baptized members. It is the only church on the island.
And for my son, Winston, God was so merciful! When the airplane landed in Lusaka, an ambulance was waiting to transport us to a private hospital. He underwent surgery to debride and repair his scalp, followed up by a couple weeks of wound care. All other symptoms of abdominal injury and concussion had cleared, and diagnostic testing came back normal. Today, when people ask how Winston has recovered, I report, with a chuckle, that he is no worse for the wear. If anything, he just bounced back sharper, wittier, and more active than before. The healed scars in his hairline remind me every day of God’s faithfulness, and the mission He has called us to—shining the light of God’s love to those around us.
* Also known as Mutondwe Island.