12
Your Survival Kit
I have a little rented storage unit over by the railroad tracks at the edge of Rose Hill. Slowly, as I have the time and emotional energy, I’m going through our belongings that came back from the Philippines.
The other day, I got into a box of Martin’s stuff from the airplane hangar. His technical manuals, his books on flying in turbulence, his Bible study helps . . . they were all there.
What a treasure it was to come across his favorite CDs. There was The Best of Collin Raye and George Winston Piano Solos and Acapella Hymns. I set them aside to take home. I could listen to these while trying to go to sleep at night, and they would remind me of my wonderful husband.
Then I picked up something even more special: his survival kit that he always kept under the seat of his airplane. It was khaki-colored with zippers and pouches, sort of like a medium-sized fanny pack. Martin used to spend hours figuring out what he might need if he ever got stranded. He had turned the assembling of these items into a high science.
I started pulling them out, one by one:
A small flashlight with two AA batteries
A tiny strobe light to flash toward the sky if rescuers were looking for him
Flares
A compass
A mirror
A whistle
A Cricket lighter
Puritabs, to purify drinking water
Advil, Tylenol, and mefenamic acid if the pain got really bad
Band-Aids
Disinfectant
Vicks VapoRub
An antihistamine
Maalox
By now I was sobbing. “Oh, Martin,” I said, “you had everything right here! If only we’d had this for the year in the jungle. But we never got to use it.”
I kept going.
Off! spray, to repel insects
Soap
Contact lens solution
Toilet paper
Shampoo
A toothbrush
Coffee mix
Orange juice mix
Cream of chicken soup mix
A tiny tin can for heating water over a fire
Salt and pepper
Sugar and creamer
Raisins
Mints
Candles and matches
An emergency blanket he had found in an army surplus store. It was actually a big piece of thin aluminum-laminated polyethylene, 84 inches by 54 inches—but folded down to the size of a postcard! He was so proud of that find.
Blue nylon string
Finally, his Pilots for Christ edition of the New Testament
All this was carefully crammed into the survival kit. I stared at the items in wonder. When I tried to put them all back inside, I couldn’t get even close. Martin was a master packer, whether loading cargo into his airplane or small stuff into his survival kit.
* *
The Bible says that “as we know Jesus better, his divine power gives us everything we need for living a godly life. He has called us to receive his own glory and goodness! And by that same mighty power, he has given us all of his rich and wonderful promises. He has promised that you will escape the decadence all around you caused by evil desires and that you will share in his divine nature” (2 Peter 1:3-4, italics added).
We are the recipients of a spiritual survival kit that includes everything we require. Whatever the threat or complication, we have what we need to cope. It’s not miles away on a distant shelf, or in a pharmacy; it is already within us, just waiting to be opened and put to use.
I know that we often don’t feel equipped. We look at the challenges in our life and think we are empty- handed. But we are not. The Word of God assures us that we can manage the situation after all. Through the “rich and wonderful promises” we are outfitted to go forward and overcome.
In Martin’s Bible I found a three-by-five card from a time he spoke on a Sunday morning in Aritao. It was this Scripture from 1 Corinthians 1:8-9 (NIV):
He will keep you strong to the end, so that you will be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. God, who has called you . . . is faithful.
That card now rides around in my Bible instead of Martin’s. It tells me to keep going when my life is hard. It reminds me to draw upon God’s strength. It assures me that his provision is adequate. It promises me that I can make it after all. I can survive.
God does not mean for us to be cowed by our circumstances, even though we often are. He means for us to keep our balance and rise to meet the challenge through his enabling power.
We are not the first to do this, of course. We are simply following the precedent of “a great High Priest who has gone to heaven, Jesus the Son of God. Let us cling to him and never stop trusting him. This High Priest of ours understands our weaknesses, for he faced all of the same temptations we do, yet he did not sin. So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it” (Hebrews 4:14-16).
Prayer, I think, is not our effort to get God’s attention. We are already, at all times, in his line of sight. We can therefore “come boldly” in search of his mercy, grace, and strength. Too often our praying is framed as trying to get God to do something, when he has already done everything. He has blessed us with every spiritual blessing. He has equipped us for every challenge.
Now, we must simply use what he has given us to get through today’s gauntlet. He will give us well-timed help just when we need it. We are pursuing his mission with his resources.
* *
My oldest, Jeff, is already hot on the trail of becoming a pilot like his father. In fact, Martin had promised to teach him to fly when he turned fifteen. Jeff was fourteen when we were captured, and so that never happened. But now, back in the States, he has been able to pursue his dream regardless.
As for me, I’m being stretched just letting Jeffrey drive, let alone fly! Whenever he is at the wheel, I’m a typical badgering mother: “Isn’t this a forty-mile-an- hour zone?” . . . “Jeff, you’re tailgating; don’t be so close to this guy in front of you” . . . all the usual stuff. He just rolls his eyes and sighs.
It is definitely a good thing I’m not in the cockpit with him. His flight instructor, meanwhile, says he’s doing fine. Armed with his student pilot certificate, Jeff recently made his first cross-country solo flight. The day before, his instructor went with him as Jeff flew from here to Chanute in southeastern Kansas, then on to Bartlesville, Oklahoma, and home again. All the necessary instructions were covered.
The next day, the weather was perfect, and so—even though it was a school day—I allowed him to skip classes and attempt his solo flight over the same route. The winds aloft weren’t bad (which is a minor miracle in Kansas). I drove him to the airport, where he filed his flight plan and then went out onto the ramp to check his plane. I stood there shivering in the cold as he did his work, thinking, Oh, how I remember doing this with Martin! My ears were about to freeze off when Jeff finally lifted into the air and disappeared to the east.
I knew I had about three hours to go home and do things on my list before heading back to the airport to see him return. One of them was to catch up on e-mails. To a New Tribes Mission friend I wrote, “You know, right now as I’m writing to you, Jeff is flying alone for the first time. . . .”
And then the thought came to me: No—Jeff’s not flying alone. The Lord is with him. Martin never flew alone, remember? The Lord was with him, too. Like father, like son, okay?
Sure enough, Jeff arrived back in fine shape. In fact, he landed early; I missed it. He was all smiles as he walked into the terminal. “That was fun,” he said. We talked about his takeoffs and landings, and then as we headed out the door, he added, “Could we stop and celebrate on the way home?” Indeed we did, at Sonic for burgers.
“Be strong and courageous,” Moses told the Israelites. “Do not be afraid or terrified . . . for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you” (Deuteronomy 31:6, NIV). I choose to believe that God meant exactly that. We are never abandoned. We travel through life with the survival kit of God’s grace.