Dear Hope Chest readers,
Many of you remember that I often forwarded prayer requests about missionaries Martin and Gracia Burnham during their year long captivity by the Abu Sayyaf in the Philippine jungles. Martin died in June 2002 during the rescue attempt, but Gracia survived a bullet wound and came home to their three children. They now live in Rose Hill, Kansas. On Saturday night, I had the precious opportunity to hear Gracia speak to a full house at Northland, a large church here near Orlando. I also got to meet her in person as she signed books.
I told Gracia that many of you were praying for their family that year, and she warmly urged me to say THANK YOU to all of you on her behalf. She had said over and over again during her speech how much she appreciated the intercession of God's people during their ordeal.
Speaking of her own family's prayers now, Gracia said, "We've declared a little jihad at our house, a little holy war, and we're waging it on our knees." When asked what people could pray for her family, she requested wisdom for raising her children, and for her nervousness during public speaking.
For more information on the Burnhams or New Tribes Mission, click here:
www.ntm.org
Here is a poem I wrote last year, which I gave to Gracia on Saturday night:
In Honor of Martin and Gracia Burnham
by Virginia Knowles, 2002
A time of celebration, of husband and wife,
A time of respite from laboring for the Lord,
Who could believe it would happen this way?
Those who went on flights in the air for missionaries, according to Gods will,
Were now on flight on foot with terrorists, against their own will.
Gunfire, hunger, disease, deception for over a year.
Yet they testified that God was good to them every day.
In the end, Martin passed on to eternal life,
Leaving behind letters of love for his family,
While Gracia stayed behind to love the children face to face.
Let us honor them.
Let us pray for them.
Let us go and take their place.
And now, here is a little poem sent in by a Hope Chest reader.
My life is but a weaving
Between the Lord and me
I do not choose the colors
He worketh steadily.
Oftimes he weaveth sorrow
And I in foolish pride
Forget he sees the upper
And I the underside.
Not till the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly
Will God unroll the canvas
And explain the reason why.
The dark threads are as needful
In the Weavers skillful hand
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned.
- Author Unknown
~~~
My mother-in-law, Ann, remains in good spirits at her home. Thad's youngest sister, Sarah, has cared for her over the weekend, but Thad is resuming round-the-clock caregiving within the next day. I am still in awe over the blessings of his grace and mercy that God is providentially weaving into the tapestry of our lives, even during these times of suffering and uncertainty.
May God bless each of you today, no matter what you are going through.
Virginia Knowles
