God’s Faithfulness
PHILIPPINES — As a missionary kid, I’m full of stories of God’s healing power, miraculous provision and unfailing protection. But the story that typifies our lives as a mission family isn’t really all that dramatic, involving only a desperate father and a prayer. But to me, an MK, it exemplifies all that my parents’ lives are about—a burden, a call, and the fight to save souls.
As a missionary kid, I’m full of stories of God’s healing power, miraculous provision and unfailing protection. But the story that typifies our lives as a mission family isn’t really all that dramatic, involving only a desperate father and a prayer. But to me, an MK, it exemplifies all that my parents’ lives are about—a burden, a call, and the fight to save souls.
Gerald and Sue Holloway’s first mission appointment in 1971 was to the Gilbert Islands, a South Pacific atoll, now known as Kiribati. At the time, Tarawa, the main island, was as far from civilization as the far side of the moon. A single two-propeller plane each week was the primary link with the outside world. Phone calls to the U.S. required a radio signal bounced through several countries and operators, taking nearly an hour. The island “hospital” was merely a clinic, and my mom, a registered nurse, was as educated as the staff. Tarawa’s tropical climate bred sickness. Cuts and scrapes incubated infection. A simple mosquito bite could turn into a life-threatening wound overnight.
My sister and I, only 3 and 5 years old, suffered terribly from our first days on the island—not only the usual cuts, scrapes and sicknesses of childhood, but also the exotic fevers and strange rashes of the tropics. I contracted thrush so severely my entire mouth and throat were covered in blisters. My sister was plagued with boils. We both suffered vitamin deficiency from a lack of fruits and vegetables.
In despair, sensing demonic attacks behind the physical ones, my father entered the village’s small, dark chapel and fell weeping at the altar. Picturing his two little girls ravaged by the tropical climate, he began to pray: “God, I believe you sent our family here and gave me a burden for these people. I believe you brought me here to help save souls for your Kingdom. But God, I can’t keep putting my daughters through this. I can’t watch them deteriorate before my eyes. Heal my children. Show Yourself real to me, that Your burden is worth it.”
As my father wept before the Lord, the simple brown, wooden cross hanging over the altar slowly came into view, seemingly glowing in the darkness. A peace that passes all understanding seeped into his spirit. The cross was the reason. This was why his two little girls were suffering. Christ’s suffering on the cross and His defeat of the enemy became clear.
Soon thereafter, the attacks on my sister and me stopped. We stayed in the Gilbert Islands three years before moving on to the Philippines. The Gilbert Islands mission post passed to others. Only later were my parents told that, had they not stayed, the posting at Tarawa would have been closed. Satan knew that, had we not survived his attacks, the islanders would no longer hear the Good News. The Church of God still flourishes on the atoll, and God’s saving grace is still preached there today.
Gerald and Sue Holloway Beth and Linnea (daughters) Missionaries to Philippines Project Number 0600012
. . . . . © 2008 Church of God World Missions
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