Selah

Recently we have seen God’s hand at work in our (former) cat, and it has been a reminder of His faithfulness to us. It has made a few parables become more real to us than ever before. 

Selah, was a cat that I got when Dan and I were still dating. “Selah” is the pause in a song (Psalm) when it’s time to stop and reflect. Our Selah, true to her name, has provided many opportunities for us to stop and reflect on God’s goodness and mercy. It broke our hearts when we needed to give away our cats as a result of preparing to move overseas, but through this God has once again given us reassurance of His love. 

Shortly after we gave Selah to her new wonderful owners, she disappeared and it was believed (because of a broken window screen) that she had gotten out. It amazed us how much effort her new owners (and all their friends and family) put into searching for Selah. It reminded me of the parable of the lost sheep in Luke 15 when the shepherd leaves all 99 of his other sheep to search for the one that has wandered away. The search that went on for Selah amazed us. They put out posters, walked around the surrounding area for a few nights in a row, contacted all the vets and shelters in the area, went door to door asking neighbors if they’d seen her, set out cat traps, and used security cameras to try to track her down. Meanwhile, we were all heartbroken and praying that God would provide for her wherever she was. Selah’s new family was determined to never stop searching for Selah until she was found.

Moving Reflections

A little over two weeks ago Carolyn and I moved in with our new host family.  As with any move it was filled with work, challenges, and a whole lot of change.  Much of this we anticipated, but some of the challenges we could not.  While we've been gradually giving away our belongings, the most difficult thing we've had to give away was our cats.  For those of you who have pets, you can probably empathize with us regarding our mixed emotions of joy that our cats will have homes and sorrow that we must give them up.

Even though we had prayed for them to be able to leave, we still felt deep sadness with their departure.  We had already emptied the house, but the night we came home after dropping off our beloved pets, we were able to finally realize, in full, all we had given up.  We distinctly remember standing inside our front door, the first time we weren't greeted with friendly meows.  Our house felt so empty; it no longer felt like home. We are thankful that were able to leave them knowing that they would be loved and cherished. 

You Should Train Nationals

One summer Bernie May, once a JAARS pilot in Peru but now Wycliffe's U.S. Director, flew his plane from California to a meeting in Oklahoma.  He was called out of his meeting for an urgent call from Forrey Zander.

Forrey was excited.  He had met a young woman named Thangi from a large Asian country.  American missionaries are not allowed in her country.  Thangi had just completed her master's degree in communications.  Her father, a national missionary there, had asked her to pray about returning as a Bible translator. Half a million people in neighboring provinces speak twenty languages and dialects, most without the Scriptures.

Forrey suggested that Thangi apply to the Summer Institute of Linguistics.  She wanted to, but it was a week before the enrollment deadline and she was $1,000 short of having the tuition and fees.  Forrey had called Bernie to ask if he could find some money for this urgent need.