I want to do something special, and maybe a bit unexpected, to commemorate the day, though I might be a day late! Having heard recently of the Drew Marshall dilemma via Ray Comfort’s blog, I was stirred to share something, and it certainly has a great deal of relevance today, as many youth are “falling away” so quickly after they leave their church environment.

Many people in the Christian church “jumped on the Jesus train” and got started living the Christian lifestyle, doing the church stuff and the Christian stuff, but after time found themselves empty, and lacking power. Then some of them started wondering, “What is the point? Is this really ‘it’? What’s the difference between me and the Muslim, or the Jew, or the Hindu or Buddhist, or for that matter the atheist? Well, the atheist will tell me that he gets to sleep in Sunday morning.” (BTW, what the atheist didn’t tell you was that he slept in Sunday morning because he had ruined himself Saturday night.) Some of them go on a search for the true religion, some reject their former morals for what Richard Dawkins calls “liberation.” Some call out to God and wait for Him, while others search the intellectual realm for answers. Some people in frustration or just sheer arrogance say, “Show me God.”

God knows the hearts of all men; He knows the cries of the sincere and humble in heart, He knows which hearts are prepared to receive. I have a little address to those who tell the people of God (not God directly) that they want a sign from God to believe that He exists.

If you are waiting for God to grant you your wishes, meet your standards, and gratify you, God will show that He will give His glory to no other.

If you accuse God in your mind of being too much of a control freak in that regard, too demanding, you DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHO GOD IS AND THAT IS YOUR PROBLEM.

You need to study the character of God and of Jesus for real, until you find yourself in total awe of His holiness. Look at the standard, recognized Bible, read the accounts of Jesus’ life in the books of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, and tell me if that is the character of any ordinary man that you see. If you are really looking at these accounts objectively, there is no way you can even get away with saying that Jesus was certainly the greatest Man, the greatest Teacher, but nothing more. I’m not going to convince you of the virgin birth or the multiplying of fish and loaves or the walking on water. That’s not the issue; the issue first and foremost is the character of Jesus as shown in these books.

One thing is necessary to understand while you are searching for God: when we say God is good, it is not taking God and fitting Him into our perception of good; rather it is observing the character of God, who existed before time began, and defining that as good. Whatever He is, that’s good. That sounds crazy to those who have always heard that God is the product of man’s imagination or faith. But the fact is, it is not crazy, because that is not true. God = the Creator = the Beginning of everything = bigger than you = smarter than you. And He’s good– He defines good.

So, once you see the holiness and perfection of Jesus, as in, totally in line with the character, nature, and law of God, then you are ready to see His love–the kind of love that will not defend itself when spitefully used, beaten, mocked, humiliated beyond imagination, bloodied, and displayed in a cursory way in front of the world. Holiness that does not defend itself when treated wrongfully– You must ask yourself, “What is this? Is it for real? What if I were in that situation?”

Let me show you an illustration:

In the mid-1900s, there were five men with families, very skilled, very productive, very happy in life. One might have thought that they were in a South American jungle as a charitable work, or as adventurers, people who liked to live with nature. They were obviously very devoted to God, yet not stuffed-shirted at all. So maybe it was no surprise that they wanted to contact a tribe known for its isolation and hostility– sounds kinda like those famous survivor stories akin to Robinson Crusoe! Yeah, adventure! And of course, these men really believed in their God and in the Bible; it was very noble, indeed, for them to put themselves in considerable danger to share their faith with the primitive people. But… did they know what they were getting into?

So the day came when three natives came out to visit with them; slightly awkward, as neither party really knew the other’s language, but at the same time it was an encouragement to the five American missionaries. This could be their big break! Three days later, no sign of the natives, though maybe a few of jungle cats of the larger kind prowling about (but the men’s guns would surely ward these cats off if they got to close). Afternoon comes, and behold, a few natives show up again across the river. Ecstatic, two men wade half way across the river to greet them the proper way. Suddenly, a noise in the dense foliage from behind. A commission of ten, greeting the white men with spears and machetes. And in an instant, five men well capable of defending themselves or escaping chose not to resort to violence against their attackers. Oh, these natives knew very well the effect of the white man’s gunfire, but did not taste it that day. They would live to tell how surprised they were that they successfully killed all five white men on that lonely shore. Yes, and they remembered the darkness that would follow, and the terrible storm like none of them had ever seen. But they also remembered the multitude of men and women in white robes above the trees, shining and singing a chorus. Did they deny the supernatural?

The ultimate question regarding this story: why? Not why did five men have to die, but why did they choose to die? They chose to put themselves in danger, yes. But when the time came when one of two people had to die, each one of them chose: “I will die instead of the other man,” even though, by human morals, they had EVERY RIGHT to defend themselves against unjust attack. They were not guilty of any wrongdoing; why did they let the murderers live and nine children go fatherless? There is no philosophical explanation, ladies and gentlemen. There is no explanation, only fact: unhuman love. I remember when I first realized that I did not possess that kind of love. The result was complete devastation and I got on my knees before Jesus in sorrow, realizing that He had demonstrated that love for me! I told Him, “I am so sorry… I didn’t know…”

Your journey may be different than mine, but this story, and others like it, have to make you stop and examine yourself, compare yourself with the example before you. What you see in those five lives is a replica of Jesus Christ. If you are honest with yourself, you will realize that your own heart is filled with gross selfishness, envy, strife, hatred, anger, fear, and the same vile things that overtake murderers and criminals. If we are not in this state, we are arrogant and not right in the sight of God. And remember, God was around LONG before you and me. God knows reality way better than you, you are like a kid who thinks his plastic castle is the world. And somehow, this all-Holy God wants to be a Father to us filthy sinners down here. But He cannot abide sin. So He offers to wash us clean.

Don’t you see? The words in the Bible are not metaphors, pretty theories or faiths to get us through life or to make our lives better– they are the only reality that has ever existed! You and I are privileged to be in this time, when the blood of Jesus is offered to cleanse you whoever you are, wherever you are, whenever you are.

But adopting a lifestyle is NOT A CONVERSION. You must remember this; even though you may have understood that God really does exist, that Jesus was His Son and He died for your sins and He rose again and He sent His Holy Spirit and He will come again for His children, but have not repented once and for all of your sin in deep sorrow before your Lord, trusted Him for the cleansing of your sins, and experienced His changing power in your life, you are not saved.

Being a Christian is not the same as being a Muslim, Jew, Hindu, or Buddhist, or anything of the like because it is not a lifestyle in of itself– the lifestyle does not make you who you are, and it does not get you to heaven. There is much more about the role of lifestyle in the life of one who has been born again, but if you are not assured of your salvation or even the truth of God’s Word, this is a subject for another time.

You must start at the beginning, enter through the narrow gate, and then you can walk the walk and talk the talk.

Please be honest and open-minded in your search, whatever your background or your story. God is watching over you, waiting for you to hear Him, so don’t run from Him, whatever you do! I know not all of you are yet convinced that He’s even there, or that He’s interested in you, but, don’t take it from me, search for Him like you would for gold in China. See if He’s there for real, and He will meet you. He may even surprise you. I’m quite sure that you have no idea yet just how much He loves you.

One last thing to share: if you’re interested in the Christian perspective on God, listen to this song by Mark Harris, called “One True God.”

Related posts:

News (or did we know it already?)

Category: Operation Auca

Nathaniel Saint was born in 1923 to Lawrence and Katherine Saint, the seventh of eight children. His parents were Bible-believing Christians who worked to keep their family “unspotted from the world.” Nate was an innovative lad with a keenness in mechanical and financial things. When struck by osteomyelitis at age fourteen, Nate promised the Lord that if He allowed him to live, He would turn over his whole life to him. Nate lived, and when he was nineteen he joined the Air Corps, greatly desiring to become a pilot. The Lord soon spoke to Nate through a series of occurrences that convinced him that the Lord wanted him to be a missionary. He threw all his energy into preparing for this task, eventually joining the Christian Airmen’s Missionary Fellowship (later known as Mission Aviation Fellowship). In 1948, he and his newlywed wife, Marjorie, arrived in Ecuador, to begin what would be nearly eight years of serving missionaries isolated in the middle of the jungle.

Nate and Marj set up their base at Shell Mera, an abandoned oil company station right on the edge of the jungle. Nate’s job as a missionary pilot was to transport people and supplies in and out of their jungle stations. Every missionary Nate served could testify that air travel was far more efficient than ground travel, especially over the rugged jungle terrain. Nate was always trying to work out ways to make mission aviation safer and more efficient. He even invented an alternate fuel system, a “bucket-drop” system, and created a humidity-controlled room. Three beloved children were born to the Saints: Kathy, Steve, and Phil. Nate became close friends with many missionaries, all who greatly admired him for his intelligence, humor, and dedication to God. Once, when Nate’s older sister Rachel paid them a visit, she expressed her desire to someday work with an unreached tribe. Nate flew her near Auca territory and said, “There’s your tribe, Sis.”

Nate had long before heard of the feared “Aucas,” a completely alienated tribe renowned for their deadly spearing raids against outsiders for unknown reasons. Protestant missionaries longed to bring the gospel to these people, but until Nate’s time, a window had not been opened. After Nate had located some Auca villages from the air, he and a few others planned to make friendly contact. They first exchanged gifts with the Indians with the “bucket-drop” system, and when it seemed good will was expressed, they took the next step. Nate and four others, Jim, Ed, Roger, and Pete, set up camp on a beach of the Curaray River. Here they were peacefully approached by three Aucas, though unable to communicate with them. Three days later, on January 8, 1956, they were speared and hacked to death by the Aucas, despite the fact that they were well able to defend themselves. Nevertheless, the story does not end here, for Nate’s flame was carried on. Through a miraculous story of redemption, Rachel Saint, and Jim’s wife, Elisabeth Elliot, were invited to live with the Aucas and teach them God’s word.

Nate’s death was not the end of his witness, for it helped the “Aucas” understand what Jesus did for them on the Cross. Jesus did not resist death, but gave Himself up as a spotless Lamb to be a ransom for sin. Nate’s son, Steve, tells in the epilogue how he continues to carry on his father’s vision by working among the Waodani (the real name of the “Aucas”), and now sees the fruit of his father’s sacrifice in the God-followers of the tribe.

As I read this book, I felt as if I personally knew the man, Nate Saint, and was stirred by his whole-hearted devotion and Christian character. Thus I was captivated by every page, seeking to know the fullness not only of how and why he died, but also how and why he lived. Through this, I saw a picture of Jesus, giving everything he had for the glory of God, whom he called upon as Father. Every once in a while, we read or hear of a man with a nature just like ours, but who completely entrusted their being to the One who gave them life through His death, and hope through His resurrection. But how often do we see such a person whose imitation of Christ continued until their blood spoke to people whose language they did not know? Calvary was illustrated to the Waodani on the Curaray River, and they were willing to repent and believe in this God of love. For me, that is the whole essence of Jungle Pilot, and it has made a mark on my life. I will remember what a precious flow was poured out for me, what holy and blameless Lamb of God was despised to bring me peace with my Maker.

I highly recommend this book to anyone, even if you’re not a missions nut. This will satisfy lovers of adventure, biography, airplanes, Christian life, Christian witness, travel, humor, or even fiction. Reason being? It is a fascinating story, so fascinating that only God could have written this story. It is so cool to think that the same God is writing our story!

But he who received seed on the good ground is he who hears the word and understands it, who indeed bears fruit and produces: some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty.” (Matthew 13:23)

Certainly the story that really helped me understand for the first time in context what it was Jesus did on the cross was the life of Jim Elliot. Why would a man lay down his life for a stranger? How could a man speak with something he could not see? Why would a man leave his world and all that was dear to him? It wasn’t just that Jim died, but that he LIVED! Where did the power to live like that come from? You can answer that. I just want to share once again that marvelous story; it has been summarized by John Bjorlie of Uplook Ministries.

Scores of remarkable missionary stories in this century have been full of drama. We wonder, while so many have laid down their lives in China, Russia, the Congo and elsewhere, how is it that the muffled footsteps by that stretch of sand on the Curaray River still reverberate around us. It happened on the eastern side of the rugged Andes in Ecuador, in the expansive rain forest beyond. There, on January 8, 1956, the most publicized missionary massacre of this century occurred.

Nate Saint, jungle pilot, called that Sunday over the plane’s radio, “We are hoping for visitors at about 2:30. I’ll call you again at 4:35.” When his punctured body was pulled from the river, his wrist watch read 3:12.

Missionaries endured staggering hardship in those rain forests. Sometimes they could not fly and, in order to reach isolated groups, had to travel over land by foot. They hazarded unpredictable rivers by canoe to reach poorly mapped territories where fear-ridden tribal peoples lived. Knowing what we know, our surprise is not that so many died, but that so many other missionaries have survived.

In 1944, five missionaries working with New Tribes Missions in Bolivia were killed trying to reach the fierce Ayores. The five were probably murdered weeks before the search party even left to look for them. Their bodies were never found, and the entire event received little notice by the world press. After all, this news item was buried beneath the happenings of World War II. Today, if someone mentions the five intrepid missionary martyrs to the jungles of South America, few recall the names of Cecil and Bob Dye, Dave Bacon, George Hosbach or Eldon Hunter.

Naturally speaking, we see several reasons why the deaths of Jim Elliot, Peter Fleming, Ed McCully, Nate Saint, and Roger Youderian created such a sensation. There was a lull in world news at that moment. The mystique of the jungle savage excited curiosity. Careful records were available in the journals of the missionaries. The public was informed in a blow-by-blow manner as the facts of the massacre came to light. And here were five striking young men, with intelligent wives and winsome children. These young men looked like fellows we might meet in our own neighborhoods. What were they doing there?

Spiritually speaking, we also see reasons why God was pleased to speak so clearly in that event on January 8, Here is a story that inspires us more the more we know of it. The martyrs all were raised with the gospel from youth. Each was considered a role model.

Jim Elliot was from Portland, Oregon. At Wheaton College, he was president of the Student Foreign Missions Fellowship. A persuasive communicator, he wrote in college: “O God, save me from a life of barrenness, following a formal pattern of ethics, and give instead that vital contact of soul with Thy divine life that fruit may be produced, and Life-abundant living-may be known again as the final proof for Christ’s message and work.” He married Elisabeth Howard from a prominent Christian publishing family in Philadelphia. At the time of the murder, the Elliots had an infant daughter.

”’He makes His ministers a flame of fire.’ Am I ignitable?” he wrote. “God deliver me from the dread asbestos of ‘other things.’ Saturate me with the oil of the Spirit that I may be aflame. But a flame is transient, often short-lived. Canst thou bear this, my soulshort life? In me there dwells the Spirit of the Great Short-Lived, whose zeal for God’s house consumed Him.” (Splendor, p. 18; journal entry summer of ‘47).

Peter Fleming was from Seattle, Washington. At 27, he was a year younger than Jim Elliot. Pete had recently received his M.A. in literature. He was married to his childhood sweetheart, Olive.

Peter wrote: “[The Lord] has been leading my meditation to the stringent statements of Christ regarding discipleship specially those words of Christ to His disciples before He sent them out…’He that findeth his life shall lose it: and he that loseth his life for My sake shall find it.’ I have been directed to these and similar passages again and again. I should like to put these truths to the utmost test … Seemingly God delights in many instances to place men in situations which magnify their weaknesses for the simple delight of showing Himself strong to all observers” (Liefeld, p. 48, Aug., ‘51 to Jim Elliot.)

Ed McCully, from Milwaukee, Wisconsin, was president of his senior class at Wheaton. He won the National Hearst Oratorical Contest in San Francisco in 1949 and went on to Marquette University Law School. He and his wife, Marilou, had two sons and were expecting a third. “I have one desire now-to live a life of reckless abandon for the Lord, putting all my energy and strength into it,” Ed wrote in a letter to Jim Elliot immediately after leaving law school on September 22,1950 (Splendor, pp. 5051).

Roger Youderian came off a Montana ranch. An airborn ranger who was at the battle of the Bulge, he later went to Northwestern Schools in Minneapolis, where he met his wife, Barbara. They joined the Gospel Missionary Union and were evangelizing the headhunting Jivaros when the Elliots, Flemings, and McCullys arrived.

Nate Saint had flown missionaries in and out of the Ecuadorean jungle since 1948 for Missionary Aviation Fellowship. Builder, inventor, and skilled pilot, Nate had devised a ingeniously simple back up fuel system for single-engine planes. Nate was married to a nurse, Marj, whom he had met in the service. They had three children.

In a message broadcast over HCJB in Quito, Nate said, “During the last war we were taught to recognize that, in order to obtain our objective, we had to be willing to be expendable … Yet, when the Lord Jesus asks us to pay the price for world evangelization, we often answer … It costs too much … God didn’t hold back His only Son…” (Splendor, p. 176: Dec. 18, in Nate’s journals on Operation:Auca.)

The five couples did not come to Ecuador planning on reaching the Waorani tribe. But in Ecuador they heard about these Indians referred to as “Aucas” meaning savages. They had never been subjugated by soldiers or won over by missionaries.

The missionaries often prayed and plotted about, how this dreaded tribe could be reached. As they witnessed a series of events opening the way, the five united their hearts to reach the Waorani. To read the missionaries’ own account, we are compelled to agree with Nate Saint that “It the Lord’s Time.”

All volunteered. They planned carefully. All were aware of the danger. As Jim Elliot said to his Betty: “If that’s the way God wants it to be, I’m ready to die for the salvation of the Aucas.”

After a series of long-distance contacts, the next step was to find a landing place close to the Waorani village. On the Curaray River they found a landing site on a sand bar. They named it “Palm Beach.” On Tuesday, January 3, a final prayer meeting was held at Arajuno, then the intrepid couples sang Edith Gilling Cherry’s hymn to the tune Finlandia:

We rest on Thee, our Shield and our Defender,
Thine is the battle, Thine shall be the praise;
When passing through the gates of pearly splendor,
Victors, we rest with Thee through endless days.

On Friday, they had a visit from three Waorani. On Sunday, Nate flew his plane over the area and spied a group of men walking toward the beach. He radioed Marj. “A commission of ten is coming. Pray for us. This is the day!” The next communication was scheduled for 4:30 PM. It would never come.

As newspaper headlines read, Five Missionaries Missing in Ecuador, a rescue party was moving overland. Missionary pilot Johnny Keenan flew over Palm Beach and saw a body; on a second pass, he spied a second one in the river.

By Thursday, two US Navy fliers went in with a helicopter. They found four bodies in the river, speared and hacked by machetes. Jim, Nate, Peter, and Roger were identified. It was speculated that the first body seen from the air was Ed McCully’s and that it had been carried away in the river’s current.

The January 23 Newsweek magazine ran the news. But it was Life photographer Cornell Capa who was at Palm Beach via helicopter when the last body was being lowered into the grave. His sensitive photography and the account of the drama published in Life made this the missionary story of the century. Readers Digest also published the story in 1956.

By Friday, Jan. 13, the Air Force flew the widows over the common grave. As Olive Fleming looked down to see the scar of white sand, 2 Corinthians 5:1 sounded in her mind: “For we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.”

Some church leaders responded to the massacre as did Judas when the costly perfume was poured on the Lord Jesus, saying, “Why this waste.” To such we can only say that God’s ways are not our ways (Isaiah 55:8-9). The foolishness of God is wiser than men (1 Corinthians 1:25). In following months, mission boards were deluged with offers to “take the place” of the martyrs. Eternity magazine counted six hundred missionaries who credit the martyrdom as influencing them to go overseas.

The work with the Waoranis was only beginning. The girl, Dayuma, an escapee from Waorani territory who helped Rachel Saint learn Waorani, had entrusted herself to the Lord Jesus Christ. To her amazed relatives she returned to their village safe. They assumed she had been cannibalized by the strangers. She explained that the missionaries had come peaceably. She also had an object lesson to help them understand how the Lamb of God was led to slaughter as a sacrifice for sin. “Just as you killed the foreigners on the beach, Jesus was killed for you.”

In the fall of 1958 Rachel Saint and Betty Elliot and her toddler, Valerie, hung their hammocks among the Waorani. While Valerie played with the children of her father’s murderers, Rachel and Betty became acquainted with the murderers themselves: Gikita, Kimo, Nimonga, Dyuwi, Minkayi, and Tona.

Nine years later, the first copies of the Gospel of Mark in Waorani were dedicated at “God’s Speaking House.” Kimo prayed, “Father God, You are alive. This is Your day and all of us have come to worship You. They brought us copies of Your Carving, enough for everybody. We accept it, saying, ‘This is the truth.’ We want all of your carving.”

Surely the enduring attraction to this story is as much about the lives of the martyr’s survivors, as it is about the five men that gave their lives. We not only know the five men by their journals and aging photos. We know them by the lives of the missionary widows, their children, the lives of the Waorani converts and the missionaries that continue to serve them. This is more than a memory. By their fruits we know Ed, Jim, Nate, Pete, and Roger.

Yes, it is more than a memory. What if they had not taken the first step towards God’s call for them? Where would we be? Even more important, what are we waiting for? If it’s a call, we have it already.

Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in Me.
“I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in Me, and I in him, bears much fruit; for without Me you can do nothing.
If anyone does not abide in Me, he is cast out as a branch and is withered; and they gather them and throw them into the fire, and they are burned.
If you abide in Me, and My words abide in you, you will ask what you desire, and it shall be done for you.
By this My Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit; so you will be My disciples.” (John 15:4-8)

And He said to them, “Go into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature. (Mark 16:15)

Article courtesy Five Missionary Martyrs.

For more Inspiring Stories, visit In Defense of the Christian Faith.

Proving that space flight is not the highest calling for a pilot, astronaut Patrick Forrester is taking a bit of missionary history onboard space shuttle “Discovery,” which is scheduled for liftoff from Kennedy Space Center in the early morning hours of Aug. 28. The aim of the two-week orbital mission is to equip the International Space Station.

The item comes from martyred missionary pilot Nate Saint’s Piper PA-14, which is on display at the headquarters of MAF (Mission Aviation Fellowship) in Nampa, Idaho. Saint and four other missionaries were martyred on a sandbar in Ecuador on Jan. 8, 1956, by a tribe of Waodani Indians.

The incident sparked international news coverage and renewed interest in missionary service. Several of the tribesmen that killed Saint and the others were later converted to Christianity by relatives of the slain missionaries.

“Bringing attention to and renewing interest in missions would be a great result of this experience,” said Forrester, who was born in El Paso, Texas, the year after the martyrdoms. “My deepest intent is to honor Nate Saint, the Saint family and all missionaries around the world.”

Forrester heard about Saint and the other four missionary martyrs while attending a Steven Curtis Chapman concert. “He told the story of the missionaries who had gone down and had lost their lives,” Forrester recalled. “That story just fascinated me, and through that I heard of the book ‘Through the Gates of Splendor.’ That’s when I really first understood about MAF.”

As for himself, Forrester sees missions in his career flight plan. “We are all called to serve God in some manner,” Forrester said. “I have had the opportunity to participate in several short-term mission trips to Uganda, Canada, Puerto Rico and South Africa. Each time I have developed a heart for the people we served. I believe my wife and I will continue to serve in the mission field for the rest of our lives – whether it is at home or overseas, short-term or full-time.”

“Nate’s intent was to use the airplane to bridge the gap to those who have no contact with the outside world, and introduce them to a God who loves them,” said Jordan. “The shuttle allows us to explore the intricacies of the universe that reflects this loving God.”

You can watch Steven Curtis Chapman’s concert presentation here.

I think it is so neat how one person’s obedience to God has simply endless effects. It doesn’t even begin with Nate Saint! It goes back to his parents, and even further back than that. Nate Saint’s parents made a very good effort to bring their children up in the ways of God, and his older sister read to him missionary stories. When Nate experienced a severe childhood illness, he promised God that if He would heal him, he would turn over his whole life to Him. When Nate was a young man, he rededicated his life to God and set his sights on the mission field. When he found an Auca settlement, he accepted it as God’s leading to try to reach them. Even though danger and death were imminent, he decided to do what he knew God wanted him to do, leaving the results in His hands. Nate Saint did not die in Ecuador in 1956; he died several years before, when he devoted his whole being to God. But the effects of his obedience did not stop when he was called up to heaven; we still see the fruit being produced today. God is still using that story to draw people unto Himself; 53 years later, a piece of Nate’s primitive airplane is exploring the heavens with some of the most advanced technology known to man. The little PA-14 might not have made it to heaven with Nate, but it came pretty close!

For more Inspiring Stories, visit In Defense of the Christian Faith.

On May 30th, 2008, these pictures were taken in the Amazon region of Brazil; here the natives aim their bows at the airplane from which the pictures were taken. Apparently, no one knew this tribe was here, and outsiders have not had any known contact with them. They are “unreached.”

For more info go here.

Also, I just read this post at Yeah, Right…

Remember this story? Made the headlines over 50 years ago: “GO YE AND PREACH THE GOSPEL” FIVE DO AND DIE. (optimistic media…) If you go to the link, read pages 10-19.

And this gospel of the kingdom will be preached in all the world as a witness to all the nations, and then the end will come.” (Matthew 24:14)

So how much time do we have? I tell my brothers when they get slow on their work, “Let’s move! Look alive, there! Time won’t wait for you!” What makes us Christians this time will wait for us?

Let me say this: there was one Canadian young man in the early 1900s who believed the Lord wanted him to devote his life to preach the gospel. For several years, he traveled with Harry Ironside, doing that. But when he started a family, he settled down in Portland, Oregon, and concentrated for the most part on raising his family and serving in his church. Missionaries often resided in his home, who left an effect on his four children. The only “foreign” country he went to was the United States; but he still served the Lord with all he was, and raised his children up to be soldiers of the Lord. His name was Fred Elliot; his third son was Jim Elliot.

Made me think, “What am I waiting for?”

Many years ago, Pete Fleming’s widow, now Mrs. Olive Fleming Liefield, visited the beach where Pete and his four compatriots were killed. She was working on a book called, “Unfolding Destinies.” Nate Saint’s sister Rachel, along with several Waodani, guided Olive and her husband Walt, through the jungle. Almost forty years after the spearing raid, Olive still had many unanswered questions about exactly what happened that fateful day.

“Answering her questions, with Aunt Rachel translating, was Dawa, wife of one of the attackers who was present during the attack. Dawa, still a teenager at the time, hid in the dense cane bordering the far side of the river, opposite Palm Beach, afraid to actually watch or take a more aggressive role.
As Dawa recognized Olive’s interest in what had happened that memorable day – a day that shocked and transfixed much of the world, both Christian and non – she began to volunteer information that she thought might be of interest.

In the middle of her commentary she pointed to a place above the jungle canopy bordering the ridge just south of Palm Beach. “That is where we heard the Cowodi (foreigners) singing,” she stated matter-of-factly. As Aunt Rachel translated, Olive stopped her, “What does she mean she heard foreigners singing above the trees?”

Dawa said they were dressed in cloth like she saw a group of Cowodi do who sang in a church she visited with Rachel in the U. S.

Olive, Walt and Aunt Rachel wondered if it could possibly have been a choir of angels. What a wonderful and humbling tribute that would have been from a gracious God who had just had five sons killed, their spear riddled bodies dumped unceremoniously in the river by the beach where they had just two days before had an exciting and completely friendly first contact with two women and one man from the same village where their killers lived.

Olive told Steve Saint, son of Nate, what she had learned, and asked if he could find out more. Here is the rest of the story as Steve tells it:

“One by one, each of the three men told me that they saw what appeared to be lights in the same place where Dawa had said she saw the heavenly choir. They were further away, which might explain that what they saw was different. But all of them said they heard singing. Nevertheless, they were somewhat tentative in their description.

Very recently when a project was initiated to make a feature film and a docudrama about the “Auca Story”, the script writers wanted to include the “angels singing over the Palm Beach martyrs.” As I reviewed the script I felt uncomfortable including any detailed reenactment of something that I was sure had taken place but which had only been vaguely described.

In January, 2002, I was asked to take the documentary film team to Ecuador to interview the Waodani who are the other half of the story. In the interviews with four of the five remaining Waodani survivors who took part in the Palm Beach attack in which my dad and his four friends were killed, I tried to elicit more definition to what I had been told previously, but without success.

The day after wrapping up the filmed interviews with the Waodani, the film group and I were joined by two friends of ours – Kevin McAfee and Steven Curtis Chapman. They had flown out to join us to do filming for Steven’s upcoming tour which will feature the “Auca Story,” as well as to film some footage for the documentary. Steven and I were sitting in the cooking house talking while Kimo, one of the warriors I had just interviewed, was trying to communicate with a member of the film team.
I was startled to hear music coming from the thatched long-house immediately behind us. Then I realized that Kevin was just checking out the sound equipment he had brought.
Suddenly Kimo turned towards the music and listened intently. After a minute he commented, “Manami ihindabopa,” (“Just like I heard it”).

I didn’t understand what he was referring to until I put together the obvious fact he was referring to the music and remembered that I had recently asked him about what he had heard at Palm Beach.
Kimo resumed his sign language conversation. Suddenly he turned towards the music once again and very specifically affirmed, “I have heard that before, long ago. That is what I heard, just like that, when your father died.”

I explained to Steven Curtis Chapman what Kimo was saying, then called to Kevin to hold the music at that spot. It was clear that Kimo was referring especially to one motif in the music as being what he remembered.
I invited Kimo to enter the long-house with us. Unfortunately, Kevin could not tell us specifically where on the CD the music Kimo was referring to was located. Kevin started playing various pieces on the soundtrack. I couldn’t remember enough of what it sounded like to identify it. As the fifth or sixth piece started to play, Steven Curtis Chapman commented, “I think this might be it.” Almost simultaneously Kimo declared, “I saw lights like stars and that is what I heard.” Then he added, “When I heard that long ago, I didn’t know what it was. I was afraid. Hearing it I knew we had done a bad thing there. Now, no longer living angry and hating, I see it well that you have returning brought this back to us.” (They don’t have a word for instrumental music that I know of). Then he got up and left the long-house.

Kevin pulled out the CD to find the title of the piece Kimo had identified. “You won’t believe this!” Kevin exclaimed. “Look,” and he pointed at the CD; “It is cut #8.”

Jesus told us, “Go into all the world and make disciples of all the nations.” My father and his four friends joined the ranks of thousands of “God followers” who have given their lives to fulfill that commission.
The title of the soundtrack Kimo recognized as being what he heard after killing my dad and Jim, Pete, Roger and Ed – a piece written by Ron Owen especially for the documentary film (being made to tell the story of God’s plan to reach a tribe of people off in the Amazon jungle who were insignificant in almost every way except that God loved them and wanted them to know they could become His children throughout the sacrifice of Iota “God’s only child, a son.”) – is “Every Tribe, Every Nation.”

God has entrusted “His very good carvings” to us! But only the uninitiated or extremely unobservant are wont to believe that He doesn’t still have His hand in seeing that His message reaches every tribe, every nation, every tongue and every people.

I have never questioned God’s right to use my father’s life. Dad turned his life over to God as a young boy. I have never asked for an apology from the men who killed him, and I have never received one. I never hated them or held anger against them so there was no forgiveness needed. I just accepted my dad was gone and with Jesus. It never occurred to me that I should forgive them for something which, though they meant for evil, God very clearly intended for good.

But as a father, I have agonized over what I have thought must have been going through Dad’s mind as he lay dying out in the middle of nowhere, betrayed by the very people he and his friends had so carefully and methodically befriended. His failure would leave Marjorie (my sweet mom) a widow. He would never teach his two little boys to fly. His little girl would never sit on Daddy’s lap to hear another original bedtime story. He would never again fly sick Indians to the new hospital he and Roger had been working so hard to complete. His passion for sharing the message that had set him free with people who had never heard was suddenly ended.
I have imagined all these years that this must have been the pain of Dad’s last conscious minutes of life. But now I believe that I was wrong. If Dawa, Kimo, Yowe, and Mincaye heard an angelic choir from the world beyond, I have no doubt that Jim, Ed, Pete, Roger and Dad were made even more aware of their presence. They didn’t die alone. Now I do believe that God sent a reception committee to sing for them and to escort them into His presence.

As I listened to music, just written, which Kimo clearly asserted he had heard at Palm Beach, my heart swelled with a sense of well-being. God took what five men could not keep and exchanged it for something they cannot lose. It’s our turn now to make the same deal and give our lives away!

Story courtesy “Angels, Yes, I think it was Angels” by Steve Saint at: http://natesaintlinks.blogspot.com/

For more Inspiring Stories, visit In Defense of the Christian Faith.

Anyway, my point is that I found an amazing article written by Steve Saint, about how he once took a group of secular University students to visit the Huaorani (or Waodani). The climax of the story is that the Huaorani told the students how they used to live, then presented them with the gospel message! Imagine that; it took a trip to one of the most isolated areas in the world for these kids to hear the gospel message in its entirety! Well, maybe some of them had heard it before, but since our culture glorifies the traditions of the primitive tribes in the world (or at least calls it politically incorrect to say that their ways were foolish; we need to be one with mother nature, etc.), the students were more inclined to give it some thought. I would strongly suggest that you read the whole article here.

For those of you who are like me and want more information, visit these sites:

Nate Saint info
Jim Elliot info
Five Missionary Martyrs
I-TEC (Steve Saint and Huaorani’s organization)

Here are some informative videos: