What is my witness?


We all are a sermon in shoes. We all have a witness. We are all ambassadors for the country we belong to; the company we keep; the church or club or society we belong to; and we are all witnesses to the family whose name we carry. My witness is my life-story. We cannot change our past history but we can change our future history. Nobody is so locked into who or what they are that they cannot change.


My witness is that I was born in Los Angeles, California. When I was 2 years old my parents took me to Africa where I have spent a total of 30 years. My parents were missionaries in Africa and I grew up in what was at that time called Bechuanaland which was a British Protectorate. Today it is called Botswana. My childhood heroes were the Bushmen of the Kalihari. I wanted to be a Bushman but my parents and God had other plans for me. I took medical training at the University of Cape Town and after medical school, I did a rotating internship in Los Angeles and then a 4 year orthopaedic surgery residency and after 9 months leprosy training in India, returned to Africa as a medical missionary with the Seventh-day Adventist church doing leprosy control work and reconstructive surgery for leprosy and polio patients. My testimony of God is that He is very good. My missionary work was at 10 different mission hospitals in 7 different central African countries. I flew a Cessna 182 and 206 more than 2,000 hours in 12 years with no accidents. The mission was given a Cessna 185 which I flew a short time until it was totaled when lent to use by another mission pilot who was an expert pilot caught in a small twister on landing. The mission had canceled insurance on the aircraft 6 weeks before this accident. I explained this to the insurance agent where we were based, but for political reasons the agent insisted I make an accident report and the insurance company paid out in full! That is a miracle. I landed by mistake at a small bush military airport that was about a mile away from the civil airport I intended to land at. I was let go without harm. I was given a ham radio transmitter and receiver to use in mission work. The army searched my plane looking for whatever they could find. The Lord held their eyes so they did not see the ham radio gear which would have been considered spy equipment and proof that I was a spy. I was arrested on another occasion by the army and interrogated and let go without major incident. This was the Lord's mercy and protection. I could say more, but suffice it to say that my only regret is that I did not reflect the love of God more perfectly and consistently both then and now. There is no One greater to work for. There is no One who had more love and care for you than God. My life-companion is the most lovely lady. Our two daughters and seven grandchildren are all wonderful. I have no regrets to having dedicated my life to serving God.


I have had many satisfying experiences in life. One of these satisfying experiences happened this way. Several of the staff from the small Central African mission hospital where I was resident at the time, were walking through one of the surrounding villages scouting out the land with an eye to starting a satellite clinic in some suitable location. As we walked through the country-side a lady came running straight toward me. She ran right up to me and I was not sure what was going to happen next. She saw my lack of comprehension of what was going on. So she stopped short of knocking me over and put out her hand and deliberately opened and closed it in front of me. I had no idea who the lady was, but did recognize her hand. It had well-healed scars that I recognized. She had come to the hospital many months before with a most painful and swollen hand. On examination it was obvious that she had a benign tumor that was infiltrating her hand and causing the pain she had suffered from for a long time. At the time of her surgery, by the time we had shelled out the large tumor with its many tentacles, I wondered if her hand would ever function again. She would not likely stay for any rehabilitation to get her hand working again, even though we did have staff that could do this for her in the leprosarium. I had often wondered how she gotten along. There in front of me was being demonstrated how perfectly her hand worked and how thankful and grateful she was for relief of pain and a functioning hand again.


Psalms 51:15 O Lord, open thou my lips; and my mouth shall show forth thy praise.

51:16 For thou desirest not sacrifice; else would I give [it]: thou delightest not in burnt offering.

51:17 The sacrifices of God [are] a broken spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.




The BIBLE is the book of “Basic Instructions Before Living Eternally”.