In the weeks and months prior to accepting the call to take a short term missions assignment to Kenya, I remember sitting in my living room and reading Matthew 19:29, 30 where Jesus told His disciples, “Everyone who has left houses or father or mother or brothers or sisters or children or farms for My name’s sake shall receive many times as much, and shall inherit eternal life.”  I memorized those verses because I wanted them to be burned on my heart so that if the time ever came for me to have to “give up” something for the Lord, I would have the grace and strength to do it.  I remember a particular day in the spring of 1984 when I felt prompted in my spirit to walk through the house and lay hands on my most precious antiques and family heirlooms and give them to the Lord. In that moment I felt courageous enough to whisper, “You can have this, Lord!…and this….and even this…”  It was quite a process for me to finally reach the point of relinquishing my worldly possessions to the Lord, and even more so, trusting Him with my children and family.  At last my heart was at peace and I could say with confidence, “You can have it all, Lord!” Little did I know that those words would set in motion a series of events that would eventually lead us to accepting a two-and-a-half year special missions assignment to Nairobi, Kenya. Miraculously, God provided everything so quickly, that we landed in Nairobi on January 1, 1985 and celebrated the New Year with our new missionary family.

Chicago Airport Departure Day for Kenya December 31, 1984 for a 2 1/2 year special assignment

At the conclusion of that assignment in June of 1987, we returned to the States at which time we felt the Lord calling us to commit to full time missionary work. We then began the year-long process of raising funds and making preparations to take a container back to the field with our household effects and supplies.  Back in the 80’s, many of the basic household items were either not available or were very expensive so it was customary for the missionaries to stock up on certain things and ship them in their containers.  In addition to furniture and appliances, these items would include pots and pans, dishes, bath towels, a four year’s supply of shampoo, conditioner, toothpaste, toilet paper, paper towels, and especially brown sugar, chocolate chips and of course, Heinz Catsup, etc. etc. etc.   We also spent the year stocking up on shoes and clothing that would last us and our two growing daughters for four years.  We also packed four years worth of Christmas and birthday presents, Easter baskets and special candy and decorations to make our holidays as much like American tradition as possible.

It was a hot sunny July day in South Bend, Indiana when we were scheduled to pack our container to return to Kenya. Mark and I had finished packing everything we “needed” to set up our new home in Nairobi.  Finally, the last item was checked off my list and the shipment was inventoried and ready to be loaded into the container. I was getting very excited knowing that soon we would be in Kenya enjoying our life on the mission field.  We discovered that packing a container was much like putting a jigsaw puzzle together and having no previous experience with this, we were definitely at a disadvantage.  Naively, we agreed to let other missionaries ship some of their items on our container because we thought an 8 X 8 X 20 foot container had plenty of room—no problem.  We would soon discover that was definitely not a wise decision on our part.

Leading up to the day we were scheduled to pack the container, we had put out a request to our church family for volunteers to help us pack the container and hoped we would have plenty of able-bodied men show up.  By the time the container arrived at our house, five men from the church showed up to help us. Unfortunately, they were all over 60 and half of them had some physical limitations.  Mark lovingly called them the over-the-hill gang.  The next thing we knew our front yard looked like a gigantic garage sale and boxes were flying and furniture was getting shoved in every direction.  It was utter chaos.  From time to time, I would catch a glimpse of two or three of the men standing around talking and drinking coffee.   To them, this was like a social day at the Hayburn house and they were having a great time.  After a few grueling hours, Clint and Ronda, a young couple who were good friends of ours came by to see how things were going.  When Clint saw the disaster unfolding, he immediately jumped in to help. All I can remember is seeing Clint and Mark sweating bullets with blood vessels popping out on their foreheads trying to get everything in the container.

When it was about to reach its capacity, they started asking for anything small to fill in the gaps.  Unfortunately, all my remaining items were too large and that’s when I started to panic.  All the other missionaries’ boxes seemed to be just the right size and when we got to the end, all their items were on board and I still had two living room chairs (seat cushions were already in the container), lamp table, two side tables and a half dozen large boxes of household effects sitting on the lawn.  Because we were paying the moving company by the hour, Mark and Clint began ripping open the boxes and throwing everything from drinking glasses, dishes, pots and pans, clothing, bedding, linens and even Christmas decorations into big black garbage bags and jamming them into the nooks and crannies remaining in the container.

That’s when I lost it. I don’t remember what I did but Mark told me it wasn’t pretty.  Suddenly Mark and Clint looked like two baboons throwing my carefully packed and inventoried treasures into the container like garbage collectors on trash day. Then suddenly God sent an angel to my rescue. Right when I started to launch into a major meltdown, Sharon, my senior pastor’s wife and best friend, pulled up in her little red car to see how things were progressing.  When she saw me, she immediately talked me into leaving with her and let the men finish the packing without my valuable assistance.

As we drove the short distance to her house, I was crying like a baby.  I remember the feelings of anger and fear spilling out from deep inside over the fiasco taking place with “my stuff”. It literally felt like everything that was precious to me was being wrenched from my fingers.  By the time we arrived at Sharon’s house, we sat down in her family room and she encouraged me to put my trust in God and then she prayed for me.  As I began to regain my composure, the Lord helped me put the whole situation in the proper perspective.

Then the Lord brought to my remembrance a story that a veteran missionary couple told me about how their first container had sunk to the bottom of the sea on route to the field.   I remember thinking how awful that must have been to lose everything and wondered how I would handle something like that happening to me.  I believe the Lord allowed this experience to test my heart and reveal to me how tightly I was holding on to the very things I had told Him He could have.  Then my mind went back to the day when I walked through my house laying hands on everything I loved and telling the Lord, “You can have it all.” I just didn’t realize how painful letting go would turn out to be.

Looking back over the past thirty-three years on the mission field, I think about all the subsequent moves Mark and I have made back and forth to Africa.  Today as we prepare to return to Kenya for a six month special assignment and then on to South Africa for another year, I constantly have to remind myself again and again that my most precious treasures are in heaven and that all of my earthly belongings will one day turn to dust.  I thank the Lord for His faithfulness and especially His patience with me down through the years. Now that we are in a retired-active status, we continue to look with eagerness to the future and to whatever God may call us to do. I know that I must remain utterly dependent upon Him for His grace and strength to face whatever comes my way.

The following is the amazing testimony of how God spoke to the team leaders from Operation Mobilization (OM) about the venue they were to use for the GO Challenge Conference 2015.

Here is the story as told by Chanri Odendaal to our students and faculty in chapel on February 4, 2015:

Chanri Odendaal speaking to the students at GST-WC on February 4.

As we were busy working on the preparation for GO Challenge 2015, we prayed that God would show us the venue for the conference in June. We anticipate anywhere from 350 to 500 people to register for this training and so we started checking out different options around Cape Town for a venue that could accommodate such a large number of participants. As we kept praying over a period of time, God gave us some clues and guidelines. It almost seemed like a scavenger hunt.

The first thing we felt God saying was that we would experience God’s footsteps at the venue. He then gave us a verse from the Psalms: “He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters” Psalm 23:2. We felt that God was saying the venue would be spiritually quiet and prepared and not a spiritual battle field. When their training was completed, they would then be able to go into the battlefield spiritually prepared. We understood that God was telling us that the venue would have to be a quiet place.

Entrance to GST-WC campus

One morning during our team devotions we prayed about the venue again and received another guideline from a passage in Acts: ^“The apostles performed many signs and wonders among the people. And all the believers used to meet together in Solomon’s Colonnade” Acts 5:12. We immediately believed that this was another promise for the venue:

• “The apostles performed many signs and wonders among the people” – This assured us that God would work in miraculous ways during conference.
• “And all the believers used to meet together…” – All of the people assembling at the conference would be believers.
• “…in Solomon’s Colonnade” – We were curious about what Solomon’s Colonnade looked like so we searched for pictures on the internet. So far, none of the venues we checked out had colonnades.

Beautiful colonnades line the campus and courtyards with gardens provide a quiet place for the students

About two hours later one of our colleagues took us to see the Global School of Theology. We didn’t even have an appointment so we showed up unannounced. It just so happened that our colleague was familiar with the school as he had been invited to speak in chapel a while back and had only thought about this venue the evening before.

As we entered the school we were overwhelmed as we found all the different guidelines and clues God had given us. We immediately knew as we walked around the campus that it was spiritually prepared and was sacred ground – Psalm 23:2.

Administration Block

We discovered God’s footprints all over the venue as we walked through and saw all the Bible verses mounted everywhere on the walls. But most overwhelming was when we realized that the venue had many small colonnades attached to each other. – Acts 5:12. We had only read this verse two hours before we arrived at the campus.

There was a moment when our team just stood there amazed at how God had led us using such detailed guidelines to this particular venue. As we were discussing this, we happened to look up and saw a verse from Psalm 119 printed on the wall next to us. Just that morning during our team devotions a team member felt impressed to share that specific verse from Psalm 119 with us.

Rene Fortuin, GST-WC staff member with Chanri and the OM Team.

There were just too many coincidences with so much detail that we could not ignore the fact that God was at work answering our prayers. We believe God showed us the venue that He had in store for our conference.  ​

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The GO Challenge is an initiative of OM South Africa committed to mobilising churches and believers from all walks of life to go out and share the love of Christ. Through a four day conference, they aim to equip attendees with the right tools in order to reach out cross-culturally and in their own communities. The conference is followed by a seven day outreach in which they have a chance to test out these skills and experience what it’s really like to fulfil the great commission and to go and make disciples of all nations.For more information about this ministry, go to their website at:  http://www.omsouthafrica.org/go-challenge ​

Before I (Mark) tell the story about this incredible miracle, first I need to set the stage by describing what had been taking place in Ethiopia prior to 1991.  The following information was taken from the Wikipedia article, Derg, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Derg and the book, The Emperor: Downfall of an Autocrat, by Rwszard Kapuscinski:

Haile Selassie

In September of 1974, Ethiopian Emperor, Haile Selassie, was removed from office in a Coup d’etat. The monarchy was formally abolished in May 1975 and Marxism-Leninism was proclaimed the ideology of the state. Emperor Haile Selassie died on August 22, 1975 and it is commonly believed that Mengistu Haile Mariam, the leader in the Derg, killed him, either ordering it done or by his own hand.

Mengistu Haile Mariam

At the time of the Coup, the Coordinating Committee of the Armed Forces, Police, and Territorial Army began to rule Ethiopia from 1974 to 1987. The term Derg was given to this committee. It took power following the ousting of Emperor Haile Selassie I. Soon after it was established, the committee was formally renamed the Provisional Military Administrative Council, but continued to be known popularly as “the Derg”. In 1975, it embraced communism as an ideology; it remained in power until 1987. Between 1975 and 1987, the Derg executed and imprisoned tens of thousands of its opponents without trial.

In 1987 Mengistu Haile Mariam abolished the Derg; however, he established the People’s Democratic Republic of Ethiopia. After years of warfare by a coalition of ethnic-based resistance, Mengistu was overthrown in 1991.

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In December 1991, East Africa Area Director Mike McClaflin invited me to join him on a fact-finding trip to Ethiopia. I had just taken over as the principal of EAST, our Bible school there in Nairobi, and Mike wanted us to check out the possibility of assisting the evangelical churches in establishing a Bible school in Addis Ababa.  Ten leaders from the evangelical churches of the country requested the Assemblies of God mission to come and help them and we were not sure what we would find.

During the seventeen year Derg rule, the evangelical churches were forced from their places of worship and forbidden to meet together. The believers had no other recourse but to take the Church underground. Anyone caught witnessing for Christ was arrested immediately and imprisoned. Believers would meet secretly in homes under the cloak of night. Those seventeen years were a time of severe persecution and oppression for the Church, especially for the Pentecostal believers who were called, Penties for short. In fact, they are still called Penties today.  There were many questions to be asked and answered but the primary one was: What happened to the Church during this time period?

When we arrived in Addis Abba, we met with the leaders of the Evangelical Union. These men represented the evangelical churches of Ethiopia consisting of Baptists, Mennonites, Full Gospel, Lutheran, Finnish, Swedish, and Pentecostals, etc. My initial thought was: What am I doing here? What can I do to assist them? I felt like a young Timothy in the presence of a group of modern day Pauls. Each of these men had been imprisoned for their faith. Some had been imprisoned and tortured more than once. They told about believers who had been put to death because they would not renounce their faith in Jesus.  As I sat there and listened to their stories I was overwhelmed. During this time of horrific persecution, the Church had grown exponentially. Literally hundreds of thousands had become followers of Christ. This was all done through secret house churches, one-on-one witnessing and what could best be described as prison evangelism.

It was hard to take it all in, but two things really stood out to me. The first was listening to how the communist government aggressively attempted to eradicate the Church but how God turned it around and used their evil plots to spread the Gospel. One of their insidious practices was every time they arrested someone, he or she would be placed in a prison located far from their homes. The reason for this was that prisoners were to be fed by their families, but if they were too far away from home, they would eventually starve to death. At least that was their evil plot.

However, the Lord intervened and this wicked plan backfired. Whenever new prisoners arrived at the prison, the Christians in that area would go to the prison and provide food for the ones who did not have family living close enough to feed them.  The believers fed anyone in need whether they were a Christian or not. If the new prisoners happened to be believers, they would encourage them not to give up hope. The new prisoner would become an evangelist at the prison and witness to his fellow prisoners resulting in many coming to faith in Christ.

This happened on a continuous basis throughout the seventeen years. The communist government, which had desperately tried to suppress and oppress the Church, had in reality promoted the spread of the Gospel through the underground Church. Instead of breaking the will of the people, they actually ignited a fire of revival throughout the country.

The second amazing thing was a supernatural move of God that took place all across the country. The various evangelical leaders began to share testimonies of how small groups meeting together during their worship suddenly experienced a supernatural outpouring of the Holy Spirit as on the Day of Pentecost recorded in Acts 2:1-4. One of the leaders from the group made the statement that they were still officially Baptists, Lutherans and Episcopalians, etc., but they were Pentecostal in practice.

There had been no one coaching them, no one telling them what they should or should not do; there were no missionaries, no teachers, no Bible schools—just a sovereign, supernatural move of God that took place across the country. The believers witnessed miracles of healing and deliverance from demons and addictions and the empowerment of the Spirit of God to continue to share the Gospel in house churches, prisons, one-on-one in the streets—taking no thought for their lives, but proclaiming Christ as Lord. It was the Book of Acts being lived out through the Ethiopian believers.

On Sunday we were invited to worship with one of the Ethiopian congregations. With the overthrow of the communist regime, the church properties that had been confiscated during the Derg were returned to their rightful owners. This particular congregation met in a small stone church which seated approximately two hundred people. The military rulers had used the church for an ammunitions depot. When we arrived, we saw firsthand the result of those seventeen years of oppression on just one of the congregations. There were approximately 1500 people there to worship and we had to hold the service outside because the building couldn’t contain all the believers. As you can only imagine, there was incredible joy and outpouring of praise and thankfulness for what God had done. This was an experience I will never forget.

Mark with Endale, the ABC principal and Steve Pennington, Ethiopia Field Moderator while on six month assignment to the Bible school in 2002-3.

We did eventually start Addis Abba Bible College (ABC) where young men and women study theology to serve the Church as pastors, evangelists, missionaries and teachers. The scripture that comes to my mind when I think of that time is found in Matthew chapter 16 when Jesus said: “…I will build my church and the gates of hell will not overcome it.”

We all know that ultimately, the enemy of the Church is Satan himself and since the day of the Church’s inception, he has used ungodly people and governments to try and wipe out every semblance of Christianity.  He attempted to use the communist regime in Ethiopia to destroy the Church, but God’s plan and purpose would not be thwarted and never will. History proves that persecution actually empowers the Church and spreads the Gospel further and faster than times of peace and prosperity. The Ethiopia miracle is a powerful testimony of how believers “… overcame him [the great dragon—the serpent of old who is called the Devil and Satan] because of the word of their testimony, and they did not love their life even to death” (Revelation 12:9,11).

As a new believer, I yearned to have a meaningful prayer life. However, I soon discovered that whenever I attempted to spend quality time in prayer, I had difficulty concentrating because my mind would wander and I would get easily distracted.  If I tried to pray at night, I was usually so exhausted from the day I would fall asleep after two minutes.  At that time in my life, mornings were an even greater challenge because I was a late night person who hated to wake up in the morning and could barely get out of bed in time to get the kids off to school on time.  Needless to say, in my disorganized state, it was pretty chaotic around the Hayburn house every morning and we were late almost everywhere we went. Thus, waking up early was not a good option for me for a long term solution. Finding time during the day was hardly an option because sitting still was impossible for me.  Once my brain switched on in the morning, it was, off and running! and that was the end of any peace and quiet for me.

When we returned from a three-week mission trip to Kenya with our church in January 1983, I had a incredible experience that changed the course of my life.  At that time I started reading books on prayer and I became desperate to learn how to pray like the prayer warriors I had read about. One day I decided to fill the bathtub as full as possible and submerge myself so that all that remained out of the water was my nose.  It was so quiet and peaceful that I could actually focus my attention on the Lord. That was an amazing discovery for me.  I realized that the secret to my prayer life was peace and quiet!  However, it became a bit of a challenge to arrange my day so that I could have a long soak in the tub every time I wanted to have quiet time with the Lord.  I also didn’t like my skin getting all shriveled up like a prune every time I prayed. Besides all that, life was hectic taking care of a husband and two children and keeping up with an active ministry in the church, taking voice lessons so I could learn to sing like Sandi Patti, working part time at the Christian Elementary School, and taking night classes for my masters degree.  I remember crying out in desperation for the Lord to please help me.  I felt like I was drowning in over-commitment and I desperately wanted to spend time with the Lord without having to be submerged in a bathtub.

In the meantime, the Lord was not only busy helping me sort out my life, but He was also working out a plan that opened the door for us to return to Kenya for a 2 ½ year special assignment.  Time does not permit me to describe all the miracles and events that led to this drastic, life-changing decision to pack up and move our family halfway around the world.  That will be the topic for another chapter of memoirs entitled, How a Kidney Stone Prepared Me for the Mission Field.

All I can say is, in record time—approximately nine months from our first inquiry about the possibility of returning to Kenya—our Foreign Missions Department processed our application, we went through orientation, and with the help of our senior pastor we raised our budget, and we arrived in Nairobi, Kenya for our first term as missionaries on January 1, 1985.

Amy playing with her doll in the front yard of 192

Our house was located in an African housing area called Buru Buru located on the outskirts of the city.  At first, it was really strange to be the only white people in the community surrounded by people who looked at us with cautious curiosity.  We lived in house number 192, which was a two-story, three bedroom townhouse with a combination living room/dining room and a tiny kitchen. The house was small but cozy.  Mark and I took the bedroom located at the front of the house overlooking our neighbor’s courtyard. The girls shared a small room with twin beds and a small chest of drawers.  We turned the third bedroom into a sitting/reading room.

Jennifer on the front porch of 192

I had always thought that roosters were supposed to live on farms and crow at dawn to usher in the new day.  At least that was until we moved into 192.  As we were tucking the girls into their beds the first night, Jennifer asked how she would know when it was time to wake up.  Mark thought he was being clever when he told her to get up when the rooster crowed.  How surprised we were at 4:30 the next morning when we heard our neighbor’s rooster, whose cock-a-doodle-do sounded more like an elephant with a bad cold clearing his trunk. It was so loud I actually thought it was in our house. This scrawny feathered fowl that belonged on a farm just happened to be roosting right outside of my bedroom window. When Jennifer heard the rooster, she obediently came and stood at our bed thinking it was time to wake up.  When we realized it was only 4:30 in the morning, we told her to go back to bed.  This was one of my first experiences with culture shock as a missionary—getting used to a rooster perched outside of my bedroom window that thought wake-up call should be 4:30 AM.

Jennifer doing her homework

From our first night in 192 until we moved into another missionary’s house six months later to house sit for a year, the rooster faithfully woke me up at 4:30 AM. Everyone else in the family became so accustomed to the obnoxious squawking that they were able to sleep right through it. At first, I was frustrated but then one night I decided to get out of bed and go into the little sitting room and spend some time in prayer. The room was so small it could only accommodate a small two-seat sofa and a wooden table with a lamp.  I curled up on the sofa in the darkness and quiet and started talking to God.  It was so peaceful and quiet that I found myself talking to the Lord about everything without getting distracted.  That was exactly what I needed—quiet and darkness with nothing to do but pray—and I didn’t even have to submerge myself in the bathtub.

We only lived in 192 for six months before we were asked to house-sit for Spud and Joyce DeMent when they went home for furlough.  The interesting thing about the rooster with the raspy voice is how God used it to help me establish the daily discipline of a meaningful prayer time. It had always intrigued me when I would listen to veteran Christians sharing about how much they cherished their quality time in prayer and their testimonies about how God would speak to them and answer their prayers.  I had never experienced anything like that and I desperately wanted what they were talking about. With a little help from my Swahili-speaking rooster, I was on my way to discovering the joy of communing with God every day.

I found myself looking so forward to that time every morning before Mark and the girls woke up that when we moved to the DeMent’s house, I decided to set my alarm just in case I would happen to sleep through since I wouldn’t have the rooster to wake me up anymore.  What ever happened to that woman who couldn’t get out of bed in the morning? This precious time had become so special and I discovered how much I needed that time with the Lord. I also discovered that prayer is really a conversation with someone with whom you have a relationship. Over the days, weeks, months, and years, this time with the Lord praying and reading His Word was the key to my spiritual growth and I believe was my source of insight and wisdom that I knew, at times, was beyond my mortal reasoning.

As I look back over the forty-one years I have journeyed with the Lord, I marvel at all the unique ways God has answered my prayers.  I have learned that God always answers my prayers! Some answers were “Yes!” and came instantly and some were total miracles. Other times His answer was “No,” which in retrospect I would discover that it was the best answer after all. Other answers took years to unfold, like my prayer asking God to teach me how to pray. He answered this prayer by leading my family to a foreign country, thousands of miles away from home, and then lovingly placing a rooster with a raspy voice under my bedroom window.

Mark giving out degrees at the Graduation Ceremony

It was June of 1992 and we were wrapping up our second term in Kenya where Mark was serving as the principal of East Africa School of Theology in Nairobi and I had been teaching the Marriage and Family course.  We were  packed and ready to return to the States for furlough when one of our students invited us to minister in his church, which was about a three-hour drive to a little village situated on the outskirts of Nyahururu, a hilly, rural town in Kikuyu country located on the north-western side of the Aberdare Mountain Range.

When we arrived, we were greeted by a small congregation which gathered in a simple one-story rectangular church made of wooden slats and a mabati (tin) roof. It had about two windows that were opened to allow for some fresh air to fill the dusty room where the floor was covered with saw dust that filled the air, especially when the people danced during worship.  They were crammed into the small sanctuary like sardines and the children either sat on the floor in the front or played in the yard outside of the church.  The pews were tree stumps sunken into the earthen floor with boards attached forming narrow benches. They were so close together that the people’s knees were like seatbacks for the people in the rows in front of them.

Leading the congregation in worship to the beat of the drum

The worship service filled the sanctuary with loud singing in a pentatonic style of African melody that tells a story.  The stories are many stanzas long because they tell of battles with evil spirits and the Devil, God’s miraculous victories and deliverance, and always end with the believer’s final destination in glory.  The people also love to act out their songs with hand and body motions which enhance their joy in telling the story.  In unison they dance to the beat of their instruments comprised of handmade cymbals made from pop bottle caps and attached to a metal ring played with a stick of wood or metal and drums made from cow hide that they either beat with their hand or a stick.  Even though we couldn’t understand their language, we could feel the presence of God in the midst of their dancing and worship.

Judy singing a special song before Mark’ sermon

Before the service began, the student just happened to mention something he had neglected to tell us beforehand.  The village where the church was located had been hit with a cholera epidemic and many people were deathly sick and some had even died.  If we had known this beforehand, we would probably have declined the invitation. However, the service began and everything was progressing as usual—introductions, testimonials, worship that shook the rafters, I sang a special song accompanied by my cassette tape, and then it was Mark’s time to preach.

A few minutes into the sermon, Mark noticed an elderly woman on the second row starting to weave and then suddenly collapse on the floor.  The people closest to her huddled around her and the service came to a halt.  All of a sudden, I saw several men hoist the woman up over their heads to carry her out of the sanctuary.  Those who were close enough were laying hands on her and the others were reaching out and praying for her.  Mark also laid hands on her and the pastor asked him to lead the congregation in a prayer. The Kikuyu prayers were fervent and loud and shook the building.  After the prayer, she was carried out of the sanctuary.  The pastor encouraged the people to settle back down in their seats and told Mark to resume his preaching.  It was as if nothing out of the ordinary had just taken place.

We didn’t know what happened to her until the service was over. A man who had been in the service spoke to us afterwards and told us that he was a nurse and worked at the local medical clinic in the village.  He said the woman had cholera and told Mark he had not been able to find a pulse when they carried her out.  However, when the service ended and everyone filed out of the church we found the woman sitting on the ground under a tree drinking tea.  The people began praising God for a miracle.  For precautionary measures, the nurse announced that everyone who had come in contact with the woman should take a pill that would protect them from cholera.  Even though Mark had come in direct contact with her, we decided we would trust God to protect us.  To this day, we believe that God kept His hand on us and we thank Him for the opportunity to witness His miraculous healing power.

This is a true story about a man named James, in Cape Town, SA

Some months back, a man by the name of James invited Mark and me to do a session on the topic of “Romance in Marriage” at a fund raising banquet for their Bible school. Before the banquet got underway, I had an opportunity to sit and chat with James. James was a very soft-spoken and gracious man and I remember being so impressed with his gentle and sweet spirit and his love for Christ. I was blown away when he told me that he was an ex-inmate and a former “26” leader of a prison gang.

A typical gang member in a Cape Town Prison

In Cape Town prisons, gangsterism is a common factor for many of the prisoners. The prison allocates different gangs into three separate sections on a single floor, accommodating a total of 500 to 750 gang members. The various gangs are generally called “The Numbers” (the 26s, the 27s and the 28s), and they are enormously powerful in their given shared cells. Gang rules involve extreme violence, which also includes sexual violence. James was in prison for 12 years and was given the nick name, “The Nightmare of the Prison,” by the warden and officers of the prison.

A cell block of prisoners in a Cape Town prison

James told us that one night God gave him a dream that completely changed his life. The dream was so powerful and shook him so hard, that he immediately upon awakening from the dream gave his heart to the Lord and became a sold-out, born-again Christian. He was finally released on parole in 2008 and started the Jahaziel Bible School which is located in an Assembly of God Church in Kraaifontein. James now serves as the principal of the school. He is also married to a beautiful Christian woman whom he met in the church and they also have a small child. God is using him in a powerful way through the ministry of training young men and women in the Word of God and preparation for ministry. He told us that we would not be able to comprehend the terrible things he had done and everything from which God had delivered him in his former life.

James’ experience is only one of many bearing witness to how miraculous events, visitations by angels, dreams, visions, and other amazing and unexplainable encounters in the supernatural have radically changed people’s lives. We believe God is reaching out to many lost souls as we draw nearer to the Second Coming of Christ.

Following the Day of Pentecost and the miraculous outpouring of the Holy Spirit, Peter quoted a passage from the Prophet Joel who had predicted what would happen in the days preceding the return of Christ: “And it shall be in the last days, God says, that I will pour forth of My Spirit upon all mankind; and your sons and your daughters will prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams; even upon My bondslaves, both men and women, I will in those days pour forth of My Spirit and they shall prophesy. And I will grant wonders in the sky above, and signs on the earth beneath, blood, and fire, and vapor of smoke. The sun shall be turned into darkness, and the moon into blood, before the great and glorious day of the Lord shall come. And it shall be, that “every one who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.”  ACT 2:17 – 21.

Global School of Theology – Western Cape

After serving in Nairobi, Kenya for 19 years, Mark and I were called to Cape Town, South Africa, and on February 6, 2006 we assumed the leadership of Global School of Theology-Western Cape (GST-WC).  During our first four years, Mark was the principal and I served as his Administrative Assistant, an advisor to the Student Life Office and taught the Marriage and Family course.  As a current member of the Board of Directors, Mark has been tasked with the responsibility to assist in drafting the documents needed for the re-accreditation process which culminates with an extremely important inspection at the end of this month. Literally, the fate of the future of our school will be determined by this inspection. Please join us in prayer that the Lord will go before us once again to give the Bible school favor with the South African government.

GST-WC is not the original name of the school. A few years ago, it was called Cape Theological Seminary. However, when the school opened its doors in 1986, it was called Cape College of Theology.  The reason for all the name changes is not relevant to the story which takes us back to the year 1982 and a missionary by the name of Gene Grahams. The following is an excerpt from his personal account of the day he met “Angels in Uniform”:

“I am going to establish a Bible college in Cape Town, and I want you to help Me.”

That hot February afternoon in 1982, I was pondering the victories the Lord had given my wife Phyllis and me during our years in South Africa. Suddenly, I heard the Lord tell me He was going to establish a Bible college in Cape Town. He indicated that the school would be different  from any Bible college in the country: it would be multiracial. Students of different races would live in the same dormitories.

“I’m going to use this school to bring reconciliation between races, between families, and between churches,” the Lord said. “I already have the place reserved, and in My time I will lead you to it.”

“Lord,” I prayed, “if this is You, please repeat Your message.”

I heard the message again, word for word, and I knew I was hearing the voice of God. My wife and I went to Cape Town, on the southwest coast of South Africa, and looked for property for the school. But we found nothing.

In addition to property, we needed a permit to open the school. But at that time, obtaining an unrestricted permit for students of different races to attend the same residential school was nearly impossible.

I was granted an interview with the private secretary to a government cabinet minister to discuss the possibility of obtaining a permit. As I got into our Speed-the-Light car to go to the meeting, I began to weep. I felt the presence of two individuals in the car, one sitting next to me and one in the back seat. But I didn’t see anyone.

My appointment was at the Hendrik Verwoerd Building. As I drove, I realized I had forgotten to ask where it was. I knew the offices of the cabinet members would have to be near the parliament building, so I decided to park there.

Two policemen were standing nearby when I got out of the car. I hurriedly approached them. “Excuse me, gentlemen,” I said. “I have a very important appointment at 2 o’clock in the Hendrik Verwoerd Building. Would you please direct me?”

One of the policemen stepped forward with a smile and said, “ Could I have the privilege of accompanying you?”

My, I thought, these are the friendliest policemen I’ve ever met.

As we walked, the policeman said, “You are here on very important business and God is well pleased with it. God has chosen you to help Him in this school.”

I had never seen this man before, I had said nothing to him about the school. In a few words, I tried to explain my mission.

Then the policeman said we would face problems in establishing the school. “From time to time, you will wish somebody else could do it. God’s will is going to be accomplished, but it will be delayed if you don’t follow as He leads you.”

We arrived in a large courtyard in front of a building. “This is the building where you have your appointment,” the policeman said, “I have one last thing to tell you before I leave. Don’t take any credit to yourself for what God is going to do.”

My mind was going in 40 different directions, and I glanced toward the building for a moment. Then I thought I would ask the policeman if I could meet him for lunch. I wanted to ask him how he knew these things. But when I turned back, he was gone. The courtyard was large, and there was no place he could have stood without being seen. Nor could he have taken leave of me without me noticing.

Thank you, Lord, I prayed. I never realized what great importance you placed upon this project. Help me to be faithful in working with You.

As they say, the rest is history.  CCT>CTS>GST-WC became the first institution during the Apartheid era where blacks, coloreds, and whites were permitted to attend the same school and even share the same dorm rooms.  This was UNHEARD OF in those days!  God had given Gene Grahams favor with the government officials when he insisted that the school be integrated. Over the next twelve years when Apartheid ended in 1994, the seminary remained fully integrated and remains so to this day.

Charles and Rene White with son Sean and daughter Loren

Charles White is a full time pastor with AOG Association and works as a business coach and mentor with several corporations and businesses in South Africa. During our first term we became very good friends and he helped us gain insight into the culture of South Africa and the churches. He also trained Mark in Mentors and Business Coaches International (MBCI). This organization has its headquarters in Australia with offices all around the world. Charles is one of their executives and is responsible for the continuous professional development of coaches internationally.

Charles told Mark about a story concerning his 17 year-old son, Sean, which happened in the later part of 2011. Sean had grown a half a meter (19 inches) in one year. One day when he came home from school he went straight to his room and went to sleep. Charles tried to wake him for dinner and he looked up and went right back to sleep. For the next several days, all he did was sleep. Several doctors examined him and put him through all kinds of tests over a three week period and they couldn’t find anything wrong with him. They thought he may have been drugged by someone at school but his blood work was clear. They thought it was meningitis and did a spinal tap and everything was fine. During this time when he was awake, he couldn’t remember who anybody was, didn’t know people at church, he couldn’t speak coherently, he wandered around in a daze.

Eventually, the doctors came to think it was something neurological and expected to find a brain tumor. A brain scan proved them wrong. At the end of three weeks on a Friday, they ruled out anything physical and decided it had to be psychotic in nature. The doctors made an appointment for the following Monday to meet with a team of psychiatrists and psychologists. Charles and his wife took Sean home on that Friday afternoon sad and exhausted. The next day Charles got away by himself and enquired of the Lord as to why prayers were not answered.

The Lord’s immediate response was that he was praying incorrectly. Charles then asked the Holy Spirit to teach him how to pray for his son. Charles said it was like an audible voice that said, “Pray that his body, mind, and spirit be in unity.” That Saturday night when Sean was asleep, Charles went into his room and through prayer, commanded that his body, soul and spirit would be in unity. Sean suddenly woke from his sleep, looked at Charles for a few minutes and went back to sleep. The next morning he was still the same.

Again, Charles prayed the same prayer before driving the family to church. Charles ministered a sermon entitled From the Pit of the Valley, and Rene sang In the Name of the Lord by Sandi Patti. All this time Sean was present physically but not mentally and emotionally. Without knowing what each other was going to do at church they had each decided to minister to the body of Christ in spite of the fact that they were facing one of the biggest storm of their lives with their son. There was not one dry eye in church that Sunday morning and the room was filled with the presence of the Lord.

On their way home after church Sean asked Charles for his cell phone and started asking about the date and time. As the family walked into their home it started raining and then stopped as abruptly as it had started. The family ran outside to see what was happening since it seemed as if the rain was floating through the air and the sunlight shone through their living room. As they walked back inside Sean started behaving completely normal. They couldn’t believe what they saw. Sean looked at his dad and said, “I was in a dream, and I couldn’t get out.” He has been perfectly normal ever since. The team of psychiatrists were completely confused when they examined Sean the following day.

Sean felt like he was locked in a dark place and couldn’t get out. He couldn’t communicate with anyone and it was as if he was in a walking coma. Charles believes his son was under deep oppression of the enemy. As a result of prayer, Charles heard from His Father exactly how to pray for his son which ultimately saved his life. We know that spiritual warfare is a reality and that Christians are on the front lines of this battle. Paul wrote in his letter to the Romans that the Holy Spirit within us will teach us how to pray when we don’t know what to pray (Romans 8:26, 27).

Dan and Noreen McGaffee

It was a pleasant, late Monday afternoon when I visited with Pastor Benson. We had a Sunday service with him the previous day (March 9^th) and the presence of the Lord was ministering to different ones according to their needs; spiritual and physical. I asked Pastor Benson about some things related to witchcraft in his area. He began to share about a witch who lived near where he pastors a church and how she had put a curse on a strong, young man. As a result of the curse, his stomach began to expand and when examined by doctors at the hospital they could find nothing wrong. The man died shortly after his examination. Pastor Benson said this is common among cases that deal with curses. A physical problem can be seen and felt but no logical explanation can be given. The witch has made threats to others that if anyone tries to defeat her, she will put a curse on them. Obviously this would leave the people feeling very afraid.

Upon hearing this, we were led by the Spirit to immediately bind the strong man of evil and for the Lord to destroy this wickedness. We prayed intensely for a short season and then I left to go home. The next morning I received a text from Pastor Benson which read: “The witch is dead!” I called Pastor Benson immediately to find out what happened. He told me during the night he dreamt that as he and I were praying, the witch was shrinking. On Tuesday morning she suddenly died for no apparent reason. She was not sick or suffering in any way. God intervened and took care of the problem! The people of the area are rejoicing because the witch is dead and along with her a stronghold of evil. God be praised!!! This is an example of a present-day power encounter.  These things are real because we are engaged in a real war between evil and the goodness of our God. It is an honor to serve the Living God and see how He works in protecting, saving and redeeming people for His glory by destroying strongholds of evil! Keep praying against evil and binding it, God will break down the strongholds!