Published: Wednesday, February 06 2013 13:36
New Fire for Wittenberg is the essence of the call that God placed in my heart when I was but twelve years old while attending summer youth camp in the sticks of Iowa. The miracles God has worked in our lives to bring us to this point are the buttresses to our resolve to continue. God has and is blessing the work. This site is a window into our ministry; past, present and future. Please take some time and enjoy the blessings that the Lord has chosen to send our way.
More from Our Work
Published: Wednesday, February 06 2013 13:23
Being the son of a pastor, I grew up in church. As I learned, I became aware of what sin was, and my need to have a relationship with Jesus Christ as my savior. At the age of four, after hearing a sermon, I made my way to the front. I was taken to a classroom where my mother explained sin and salvation to me with the Bible. It was in that room that I knelt and asked Jesus to forgive me of my sins, and to come into my heart. I was baptized when I was five, and so I began my walk with Him.
As a child, I found it easy to follow Christ. My favorite time of the year was youth camp. It was like an oasis in a desert. Each year God would burden my heart for some real decision. It was during one such camp that I heard Jesus' call. I was only twelve, but I knew what He wanted. The field was Germany. In high school, I was reading about Martin Luther and, in time, God impressed the city of Wittenberg on my mind. But at that time, as my pastor/father reminded me, the "Iron Curtain" concealed Wittenberg.
Trusting God rather than man's view, I attended Baptist Bible College. During my preparation at BBC it was a requirement to learn how to write missionary letters. In my first--but pretend--missionary report letter I requested prayer that God would bring down the Iron Curtain so that we could go.
This was a faith letter in two ways: First, there was no we, as I was still single; second, the wall looked humanly impassable, as fellow students continued to remind me.
When I recieved the letter back from the Grading Department, the wall had fallen!
God makes a way when we can't see one.
Growing up, my aunt and uncle made sure that I heard the Gospel often. I spent the night at their house and went to church with them, I rode the church bus with their children, I attended VBS with them, they took me to AWANA nights, and every other chance they got, they directed me toward salvation. At the age of 13 they encouraged me to attend camp Chataqua, and First Baptist Church in Ashland, Ohio, paid my way. While attending this youth camp, I accepted Christ as my personal saviour. I went from being a "bus kid" to teaching other bus kids about the wonders of God.
Soon after that Wednesday night at youth camp, God began dealing with my heart about missions. I bounced the idea off of my friends, family and teachers and was shocked to hear that "all missionaries die a gruesome death; that is they are boiled in oil, eaten by animals, scalped and eaten by natives, and so on." I was sure that God had the wrong person when he began talking to me and I told him so. Finally, on Easter Sunday night of my Junior year of high school, God separated me from among all the opinions around me and spoke to my heart. That night, at the age of 16, I surrendered my life to missions. After graduating from high school, I attended Baptist Bible College in Springfield, Missouri, where Paul and I met during Spring Break of my freshman year. Now, I strive on a daily basis to be the wife, mommy and missionary that God would have me be.