Jes Pebbles 209
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> JES PEBBLES
the end of his course, aged, alone, in prison, writing his very last letter to far-away Timothy. He, earth's noblest, standing at the judgment seat of earth's vilest (Nero); and not only that inexplicable paradox, but the saint in his old age, after a life simply poured out for Christ, has to write, ""This thou knowest, that all they which are in Asia be turned away from me" (2 Tim. i. 15). The work of his lifetime, apparently, lost. And also "at my first answer no man stood with me, but all forsook me."
Desertion, seeming failure, and the rattle of Nero's chain on his wrist. That is the way Paul's life ended to the shallow onlooker.
Time has proved that what seemed like an ill-reward, has really been a wonderful reward. No one doubts now that Paul's reckless giving to his Lord was recompensed, and neither did he doubt, even under those seemingly contradictory circumstances.
"Notwithstanding the Lord stood by me," he wrote on. "I have ..
. fought a good fight .
. . henceforth there is laid up for _ mea crown." God's near ones know His faithfulness.
As we were packing up to come home on furlough, a letter atrived from Romeo. It stated tersely that Leah-the-second and A-fuh (one of the boys) had sinned. It was a heartaching disappointment, but my biggest ache was for Romeo himself. He had so hoped to be a fruitful servant to his Lord. I quickly wrote back a little note of comfort. He answered with a word message which thanked us for our love, and said that he was getting weaker physically, but would go on teaching. We left the canyon, and a few months later Romeo's trials were ended for ever.
Wait for the light and it will surely come; for even if our Heavenly Father should, in our last hours, put us to bed in the dark, we shall find it morning when we awake.—Spurgeon.
Morning. And Jesus!
. Juliet!
. Sister! "Jes' a little pebble." . .. Will his Lord say that?
Tue Missinc LINK Two days' journey to the north of Romeo's little home, the mountain ravines become truly abysmal. The Lisu there are unspeakably degraded. The strength of Satan seems unconquerable. That territory we call The Heathen Patch because it is
NESTS ABOVE THE ABYSS
a patch of heathenism between two areas which have largely turned Christian. For many years evangelists and prayerpartners have thrown their labours and prayers against it, only to be seemingly thrown back. Of late years the edges have started to crumble very slightly.
One day in 1943 I was handed a letter from the young evangelist in charge of that district. "Ma-Ma," he wrote, "one of the converts up here is coming to study at the April Bible School session. His name is Chi-lee. Pray for him."'
That school was Romeo's first school with us, too. But of all the students expected, I was most interested in seeing our first scholar from The Heathen Patch. On assembling day his teacher proudly brought him up to shake hands. I think I must let the circular of that month describe him.
Then from farther in the deep ravines comes Chi-lee. I wonder what you would think of him? Transplanted just as he is into your parlour, you would doubtless come to the conclusion that the Missing Link had at last been found! A mop of coarse black hair chopped off without regard to order, low brow, small eyes, shapeless wide-spreading nose, protuberant jaw, dirty white garments like potato sacking, and forever scratching himself hither and yon—not fleas this time, but the itch.
"Can he read?" I asked his teacher after shaking hands. (Wouldn't it be awful if a missionary were the one to find the Missing Link!) "Yes, read and write," answered his sponsor proudly. Well, that was hopeful.
Evolution monkeys can't do that.
I was preparing to teach Peter that year, and as we had a staff of only three, we could not grade the school. When I stood up before them, there was Luke's intelligent face, and right beside him the Missing Link, blinking his small eyes at me hopefully. I had a sinking feeling for a moment. Then inwardly
I thought, Well, I cannot hold up the whole class for the sake of one or two. I'll just have to go ahead, and the dear Link will have to lope along after us as best he can.
Chi-lee listened well, but when it came to examinations he did not get a pass. But what did that matter? He was the first student from The Heathen Patch, and after a decent haircut, a lesson in washing his clothes, and sulphur ointment to conquer the Unmentionable, he really looked amazingly different. That
"'JES' PEBBLES"
was quite satisfactory progress for just one month's study! He himself was full of joy, and testified to blessing, so we parted happily.
"Be sure you come again and study in August, Chi-lee!"' we called out.
"I sure will, Ma-Pa, Ma-Ma; pray for me! Stay behind prayerfully !" and he and his party were over the hilltop and out of sight.
. + There is no mail in the canyon. Letters do not come unless someone is coming on business, and can take them. Two months passed before I got a letter from that district. It was from his
Lisu teacher and announced, "Chi-lee has gone back to God," the Lisu expression for dead. I could not believe my eyes. Then earnest investigation discovered this.
On return to his home, Chi-lee had gathered together the young people of his village, and started to teach them what he
_ himself had learned. The heathen were furious.
"Tt isn't enough that you yourself go to the White Man, and learn this doctrine that makes our demons angry at us," they railed, "but you must bring it back, and start teaching it here!
Stop, or we'll kill you!"'
But Chi-lee went on teaching. Then one day his house was burned to the ground; he lost simply everything. His father, afraid, refused him shelter, so he was driven into the wild jungle to live under a shelter of boughs and branches which he roughly put together. From there he wrote me of his trial, but the letter did not reach me until it was too late. The handwriting was so neat I could hardly believe he had written it himself, but his teacher said he had. The Lisu evangelist was far away at the time. Chi-lee's letter expressed no regret that his witness had cost him so much—he just stated the above facts and asked us to pray for him. But before his plea reached us, he had died from the malignant malarial mosquitoes lurking in the long grasses of the wild mountainside.
Chi-lee was fruit from our Heathen Patch territory. But there are many more great areas, and there are still other whole tribes which have never yet heard of the gospel of the grace of God. I know of one area of the Lisu tribe, about two weeks'
NESTS ABOVE THE ABYSS
journey from our Lisu, where live thousands of people. Some of them heard this wonderful doctrine was being preached out in Chinaland, and a little party made the trip of two or three days' journey to that missionary lady and asked her to come to tell" them also. That was ten years ago. Ever since then, that lady (now over sixty years of age) has been trying to find someone to go to those Lisu, and up to this date no missionary has ever been resident among them. (Several made trips at various times, and report that the district truly is there and the Lisu number thousands.) Ten years they have waited. Do you think that when they called for gospel messengers, God did not respond? It could not be. He gave His most precious Son that all might know and receive eternal life. I think that man did not respond. It costs something to leave loved ones and the comforts of civilization.
I believe that each generation God has "called"? enough men and women to evangelize all the yet unreached tribes of the earth.
Why do I believe that? Because everywhere I go, I constantly meet with men and women who say to me, "When I was young
I wanted to be a missionary, but I got married instead.'' Or, "My parents dissuaded me," or some such thing. No, it is not God who does not call. It is man who will not respond!
Our dear Missing Link is in heaven, and took a little fruit along with him, too. I am sure his one talent received a "Well done!"' from his Master. But 1 am wondering what God is going to say to this other kind of Missing Link—the Link missing from His chain of witnesses to the uttermost parts! "My flock became meat to every beast of the field, because there was no shepherd, neither did my shepherds search for my flock, but the shepherds fed themselves, and fed not my flock'"' (Ezek. xxxiv. 8).
Satan's stronghold towers up triumphantly. The awful abyss gapes wide beneath them. The Sharp Winds from the Bitter
Height are still blowing. Oh, will you not help point out to the terrified little Nestlings, that behind them is the Cleft of the Rock, so close, so sheltering, but so unseen unless you and I go to them?
ISOBEL KUHN'S
NESTS ABOVE THE ABYSS
is a vivid description of the work of the Holy Spirit among the Lisu people of south-west China. /sobe! Kuhn was able to write of them as she did because she lived with them and shared their spiritual battles, and by understanding sympathy entered into the very thoughts of their hearts.
Amidst sin, squalor, poverty and darkness she and her husband radiated the glory of the Master, and showed the redeeming and reclaiming power of the Cross, as these pen portraits reveal.
But what has been written concerning these Lisu is a timeless record for the benefit of every believer, and for all who seek to understand and reach the lost. It is also a moving reminder of the necessity for prayer support for all who respond to the missionary call. wt
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