Front matter
Isobel Kuhn Stones of Fire
z}*^ ^
STONES OF
FIRE
Books by the same author
ASCENT TO THE TRIBES
BY SEARCHING
GREEN LEAF IN DROUGHT
IN THE ARENA
NESTS ABOVE THE ABYSS
PRECIOUS THINGS OF THE LASTING HILLS
ISOBEL KUHN
STONES OF FIRE *\ .
. upon the holy mountain of God, thou hast walked up and down in the midst of the stones of fire" (Ezekiel 28.14) Foreword by John B. Kuhn
OMF BOOKS
(formerly China Inland Mission) First published
Fourteen reprints 1961-1980 Reprinted
ISBN 9971 -972 -00-X
OMF Books are distributed by OMF, 404 South Church Street, Robesonia, Pa. 19551, USA. and OMF, Belmont, The Vine, Sevenoaks, Kent, TNI 3 3TZ, UK and other OMF offices.
Cover photo by Macquitty International Collection Published by Overseas Missionary Fellowship (IHQ) Ltd.
2 Cluny Road, Singapore 1025, Republic of Singapore Printed by Hiap Seng Press Pte. Ltd., Singapore
Contents Page Foreword
Prelude
i. A Stone is Quarried
2. Stones in His Pocket
3. A Stone Selected
4. Two Stones arc Set Together
5. War—as Diamond Dust
6. The Climax of the Lapidary's Skill
7. Made only of Desert Dust
8. The Communist Stone of Fire
9. From His Pocket to His Crown ISO
Foreword by John B. Kuhn A DECADE has passed since that memorable farewell day along the Salween River !
Isobel and six-year-old Daniel departed for the United States while I remained to continue on a while longer; how long, only the Lord knew. We had hoped to reunite in China again after Dan was happily settled at school in the homeland. Events soon revealed, however, that such was not to be the case. At the close of 1950 the Mission directive was received which effected withdrawal from China.
I broke the news very gently to a small company of Lisu Christians as we rested on the hillside en route to our official's residence. "We ,, said I quietly, to the men seated around Charles Peterson and me. Just as quietly are making plans to leave the country, one replied from their midst: "I think you'll be back after five years." No one knew but we all hoped so. Ten years have now elapsed and our prospect of such reunion is as remote as it was then.
My loved ones reached the United States and together with daughter Kathryn they settled in Wheaton, in the state of Illinois. But life in Lisuland continued apace and there was plenty to occupy one. As the growing sense of the shortness of time impressed us, the urgency of the present task bore down upon us. There was necessary itineration among the churches for Bible teaching, the pressure of translation work and the ever present claims in the wider oversight of the Mission's work in west Yunnan. They were days of great opportunity and of widespread ministry and even though a year and nine months passed before we were joyously reunited as a complete family in Wheaton, there was little time left to think upon our long separation. In those months of waiting for permission to leave
Cnina there were periods in which we .were expected to think upon ourselves, but then too we found Christ our constant portion and our all-sufficiency.
STONES OP
FIRE With China closed, the Lord opened the door to Thailand where we served in the northern arc in the interests of the many tribes to be found there. Here the Lord marvellously supplied missionaries for each remaining tribe and people needing to hear the Gospel. The Blue Meo, White Meo, the Lahu, Shan, Pwo Karen, Lisu, Yao and Aka were each in turn provided with their own missionaries and our slogan ran:
To every Tribe the Living Word In every Tribe a Living Church, Then Isobel received the doctor's verdict:
Cancer.
After surgery in McCormick Hospital at Chiengmai she was flown to New York and reunited with Kathy and Dan in Philadelphia.
I remained on the field to finish out the term of service. This gave us another separation from November 1954 to September
1955. During these months, daughter Kathy came forward to the field as a missionary, leaving home with the full consent of her mother, even though it was by then apparent that they would never again meet on earth.
I was on the dock to meet Kathy in Singapore that beautiful Easter Sunday which was her twenty-fourth birthday. We had the cheer of being in the same city for the following few months, Kathy in language study preparatory to work in Thailand and I serving temporarily at headquarters. At the end of August 1955, Kathy waved me off aboard a Pan-American plane headed for Manila and thence to U.S.A. Within a few days Isobel and I had the great joy of reunion.
We lived in Wheaton from then on until the Lord called her home on 20 March, 1957.
It was during this period that Isobel did her most fruitful writing: Ascent to the Tribes, By Searching, Green Leaf in Drought and In the Arena and also the personal writings bound up in One Vision Only all took shape during those months of waning strength. We who stood and served marvelled at the grace of God displayed daily as life slowly withdrew from this earthly scene into the presence of Him whom she declared was her "Alpha and Omega". Isobel slipped away from us in a series of surrenders.
First, and long after she was entirely confined to bed, she surrendered the
FORBWORD
pen. As was her rule of life, she did this uncomplainingly.
Letters, books, notes, all done. People have wondered about Isobel's gift for writing. What was the secret? Was it basic training? Was it spiritual gift? Was it natural talent? It may have ueen something from all of these, but my personal opinion gained from close observation over a quarter of a century is that it was developed from the practice of writing.
she began to portray the Lisu work in regular monthly letters to a limited circle of interested friends at home. The inspiration for this came through the example of Mr. J. O. Fraser who carried on a similar plan of writing in his pioneer ministry among the Lisu tribe of south-west China. Thus Isobel's monthly "Prayer
Trust" was regularly written throughout the years. Sometimes these letters were lengthy but usually they carried fresh forthright impressions of thrilling close-up life as she experienced or observed it. From this practice of letter writing came very naturally and simply the art of writing books, so that much of Isobel's permanent works to-day are made up of former writings in letters down through the years.
There was another inspiration for book-writing which early came to her through the Mission.
It came by way of a circular written by Frank Houghton, intended to stir missionaries up to writing. Bishop Houghton was then editorial secretary in the London office of the C.I.M. His enthusiasm and encouragement gripped
Isobel's imagination and she took up her pen.
The result was a compilation of chapters under the title of Comrades of the Second Mile which she sent to Bishop Houghton who was then travelling in inland China. The book was turned down ! It included allusions to too many missionaries then living, which was thought rather unwise.
Hence, the book never appeared in print, but Bishop Houghton gave timely and wise counsel and encouraged her to continue to write. She did. In due course, Precious Things of the Lasting Hills appeared. Other succeeding editorial secretaries have continued the Bishop's strategy of encouragement and to them is due much credit for their constant support in the publication of the various books which subsequently appeared.
Secondly, there was the surrender of the Lisu prayer time.
STONES OF
FIRE This was observed regularly through the years in the early afternoon at which time the Lisu church was prayed for. Here the prayer battle for precious Lisu Christian fives was fought.
Notes were kept of names and needs spread over the field, and these were regularly brought before the Lord in prayer.
Isobel made her "Prayer Trust" letters challenge her own heart first, and continually, and only then could she rightly expect others to be challenged. Thus prayer for the field each afternoon was a time sacred, and needed to be guarded and diligently kept. However, strength gave way and the time for such exacting work was ending. Quietly, serenely, she surrendered the Lisu prayer time.
Thirdly, she surrendered Dan. Only mother and son were together on that last afternoon as they took leave of each other.
Even as two years before she had graciously, if not calmly, bid farewell to daughter Kathryn for service as a "sent one" to the "regions beyond", she was now taking leave of our son. She and Dan were very close to each other. His sweet presence was real down through the years. He was there now, but eternity alone will unveil the sacred breathings of that hour.
Then lastly, life itself. Only Dad and Mother were together on that last morning. We had read and prayed. Then suddenly the end was near.
Quietly, patiently, with the sense of His presence so near, she crossed "the last defile". Mummy left us at fifty-four years of age, yet as we laid her to rest it was with the assurance that it was not a premature death but rather that of a triumphantly fulfilled life God has been pleased to bless her writings beyond our most fanciful dreams. By Searching has reached the 100,000 mark alone.
Constantly we receive testimonies to the blessing this book has been to individual lives. This fact, together with the story itself, is justification for the reprinting of Stones of Fire.
The first edition has long since been exhausted and we pray that this new edition will meet with acceptance ordained unto blessing.
Meanwhile, the Lisu Church has moved forward. Ten years have seen many Christians cross the mountains at the frontier and re-establish themselves in Burma.
In September
FOREWORD II visited some of them.
143 -strong came to welcome us at the missionary's residence in Myitkyina in Upper Burma. There were Luke, Jeremiah, Barnabas and many others of personal acquaintance of China days ! Overwhelming !
"Let us sing," and Pastor Luke as of yore led in the same old characteristically bright hymn singing as only the Lisu Christians can do. Our hearts were touched.
"How long are you going to be with us, Ma-pa?"
"Ten-odd days."
"Fine, we are having our Bible Conference in the nearby village just now and we wish you to speak to us."
"Very well. I'm your servant for the time we're here."
Soon we were transported to the Lisu part of Mankhring Kachin village and comfortably set up in a Lisu Christian home.
Soon they had me in harness: four periods of preaching and teaching each day, before breakfast, after breakfast, afternoon and evening. The Lisu language was soon in smooth running order and we were once again enjoying the ministry of the Word in the Lisu tongue to hearts that were hungry for it.
Many of the friends gathered at the airport to sing us farewell.
The work of the Lisu Church goes on. Each separate district in north Burma has its own teacher to care for the village churches. The annual Bible conference keeps them in close touch with one another. The periodical Spiritual Food magazine helps them to grow. This is produced by a number of their former China missionaries who later served in Thailand. Then there is the eager expectation of soon possessing the whole Bible in the Lisu tongue. How well I remember on one occasion Lucius Ju (Lu-seng) declaring before the church in a public address that he would never be satisfied until he had the whole
Bible in his own tongue. This is now happily in view as the translators have collaborated in translation during these recent years in north Thailand. The aim has been to have the whole
Lisu Bible in the hands of the church of this generation. For the completion of this great task we and the Lisu Church shall ever be grateful to God for the painstaking services of Allyn Cooke and Allan Crane, and as well to teachers Job Fish and Chao-Ta, and others who have collaborated in this work.
STONBS OP
FIRE Our prayer as this new impression of Stones of Fire goes forward is that the Lisu Church, whether in China or Burma may continue steadfastly in the truth which the pioneers and missionaries have taught her and ever reach out towards those who still grope in darkness and the shadow of death.
Prelude was in a STONES of fire. The first time I ever saw them setting as unique as unexpected.
It happened many years ago, in the days of youthful agnosticism, and while I was travelling with the Players Club of our university. A yachting club had sponsored our play that night, and after the performance they gave us a dance at their clubhouse on the waters of a lovely lake.
A member of the club, appointed as partner and until then unknown to me, said, as the orchestra ceased playing, "Come out to the verandah a moment.
I want to show you something/'
Dancing up to the clubhouse door which opened on to a balcony over the lake, he led me out to the unlit piazza. Electric light from the ballroom streamed through the doorway, whilst out on the lake the moon was making a softer brilliance on the rippling waters. Giving a quick glance at my puzzled face, this strange man thrust his hand into his pocket, pulled out something, and held it in the light from the doorway for me to look at.
"Have you ever seen anything like this?" he inquired. On his open palm lay about ten little pale stones, but as I gazed I became entranced, for each little stone was shooting fire—ruby lights, emerald lights, golden lights, amethyst—they were indescribable. It was as if tiny living rainbows had been captured and put into pale translucent prisons from which they were sending forth rays of fire.
I was enthralled.
"Oh, how beautiful! What are they?"
I cried.
"Mexican opals," my partner replied casually. "I like them, and so I carry them loose in my pocket.
I like to put my hand down and feel them, even if there is not time to take them out and look at them.
I carry them with me wherever I go."
That was all; but I never forgot those beautiful stones.
Not long after that, Christ challenged me and I yielded. In course of time He took me to the end of the earth, and there, in
STONES OF
FIRB a setting as unique and as unexpected as in the first instance, I found the living counterpart of the little opals from that scene of my youth.
The pocket this time was a canyon, thousands of feet deep in mother earth, tucked into the foothills of the Tibetan plateau.
The gems were simple unpretentious tribesfolk, rock-like in their fidelities but flashing fire if the depths of their love were touched.
Stones of fire. While watching them battle with untoward circumstance, the analogy dawned on me, sweeping me back a quarter of a century in time and over half the world in space.
But there it was, perfect.
"Upon the holy mountain of God thou hast walked up and down in the midst of the stones of fire." Ezek. 28:14.
Let us look at them in the light of a comment from Dr.
Campbell Morgan: "What a strange bringing together of * Stones of fire*. A stone is the last embodiment of principle—hard and cold.
Fire is the essence of passion warm and energizing. Put the two together, and we have stones
—principle; fire—passion; principle shot through with passion, contradictions ! passion held by principle.' ' That is the description of a human stone of fire.
At the end of the earth, where mountains are flung peak upon peak, as if they were discards of the Creator, piled together chaotically, the Salween River carves its way through the granite masses making a canyon thousands of feet deep. As the sideveinings of a leaf meet at the centre vein, so hundreds of tributaries into the Salween have cut abysmal ravines in the western and eastern banks of the Green River, as the Chinese call it.
And so this canyon with its tributary ravines have netted the mountain range into hundreds of slopes on which the wild needle-grass grows profusely. For unknown centuries the Lisu tribespeople have ploughed these perpendicular hillsides into cornfields and reaped a bare, rough living.
The Chinese contemptuously refer to them as "earth people" and have noticed them only to collect taxes, for which purpose a magistrate lives at Luchang town. For the rest, the canyon is governed by the feudal system; the landowners (designated in
PRELUDE
this book by the Scottish term lairds), are the real rulers of the people, and how they rule will be revealed as the story unfolds.
To the east there is the parallel canyon of the great Mekong River, through which the Lisu salt-traders must go to get to the salt mines.
For the rest, civilization as we know it—shops, telegraph, medical clinics, and so on—is many days* journey away. Paoshan City, supply base of the missionary, is about a week's travel from the scene of this narrative.
The story of how the Lisu tribe was first evangelized is told in Behind the Ranges; 1 and of how the Upper Salween was opened to the gospel, in Nests Above the Abyss. 2
Now I would step aside and let you see God, the great Lapidary, as He takes up a clod of earth and forms it into a jewel; selects a little earth-person and makes her into a stone offire.
1 Behind the Ranges: Fraser ofLisuland, by Mrs. Howard Taylor.
2 Nests above the Abyss, by Isobel Kuhn (out of print).
A Stone is Quarried A SMALL figure was toiling up the orange mud of the long mountain road. In that canyon where human beings, so undernourished, mature slowly, she looked about ten or twelve years of age, whereas in reality she was fifteen. The day was warm and the big load of firewood in the basket on her back was heavy, so she paused to rest it on a rock that jutted out of the road bank. Pulling out the end of her dark blue turban, she wiped the perspiration from her face, then as she tucked it back in place, her eye caught a glimpse o( another figure coming up the road behind her. Tall, young, unburdened, he was swinging over the ground with a graceful lilt which would soon overtake her.
"Born-on-the-Road." The little girl murmured his name to herself. "He must be home for the week-end from Bible School.
Then as she watched the gloss of his carefully groomed curly black hair, she thought within herself, "I'll take another look when he has passed/ ' A general favourite was Born-on-the-Road.
But as the young Bible student swung up to the little woodcarrier he stopped to talk.
"Third Sister, have you never thought of believing in Jesus?"
Confused and embarrassed at direct conversation from this young Adonis, the little girl blushed, dropped her eyes and said shyly, "Father would not let me."
"But this is not a matter in which you should listen to your father ! As we Lisu say, 'The one who eats is the one who gets full.' You have a soul and God's Son, Jesus, died to save your soul from hell. If you believe, and accept Him as your Saviour,
God gives you eternal life, and your father cannot take it away from you or keep it from you. But God forces His gift on no one.
STONES OF
FIRE You must decide; you, and you only. If you decide to accept, God will take care of your father. You think that over and make your own decision.
Seeing that she was too scared and timid to even look at him, he strode off ahead, his bookbag slung over his shoulder swaying colourfully with the swing of his lithe form. But this was the first touch of the pickaxe on this little stone which was to remove it from the mountain of heathenism into its new home. How little either of them thought that day of what the future would bring into their two lives.
All the way up the long winding trail to Village of the Olives, Third Sister was debating, as she carried her heavy load. She would like to please her exhorter, for if there was one person in the world that she admired it was Born-on-the-Road.
All the village knew that he was clean and true; knew too the testings which had taken place since his conversion six years before. At the time of that event, she herself had been but eight years of age; how rever, she could still remember the stir among the adults of the village when that first Lisu evangelist, Isaiah, had come to Olives, and said it was wrong to worship demons.
Born-on-the-Road's family were the first to cast out their demon altar.
Born-on-the-Road was not his real name; it was the village's nickname in memory of his entrance into the world. As Third
Sister came trotting around the curve, she could see the high rock where his birth had taken place. Although his mother had endeavoured to reach home from her work in the rice-fields that evening, the baby had come on the trail beneath that great cliff.
His parents had named him Ju-fah-gwey, but the village folk refused to call him by it. Lu-seng (the Chinese for Born-on-theRoad) he was, and Lu-seng-pa was his father and Lu-seng-ma was his mother, and must be until they died
"Yes; how good it would be to become a Christian, " mused Third Sister as she pattered along at the wood-carriers jog-trot.
She now had a full view of their village with the small white chapel built in the middle of Lu-seng's farm. "But Father would never let me go there. Oh no. Why, Second Sister is a secret Christian, and look what a time she has of it ! But then, if I -