For a couple of years, Pat and I owned a 5th Wheel trailer attached to a big Ford PickEmUp truck. The truck had a 460 engine and could haul that thirty-six foot trailer almost straight up the side of a mountain. Gas mileage? We don’t want to discuss that subject!

We decided to set out and enjoy a fairly large portion of the good ol’ U.S. of A. (and some parts of Canada, as well.) We headed from Florida to see my parents in Iowa. After a short stay, we headed toward South Dakota and the Crazy Horse Memorial. If you’re ever near Rapid City, forget Mt. Rushmore. All four presidents would fit in the armpit of Crazy Horse!

From the time we left Iowa, we saw smoke every single day. That was the year that most of the West was on fire. When we got to Yellowstone, we went in one entrance and out the next. The campground area was closed due to the threat of fires. The smoke was so thick, we could hardly see what was left of the beautiful forests.

Spokane was an interesting spot. I was born in Spokane. While there, I actually got to visit the home to which I was taken when I was born. My grandfather had built it with his own hands. To look at the cabinets he fashioned with crude tools; to look at the fireplace, created from rocks he collected himself – what a thrill!

After we headed west from Spokane toward the Grand Coulee Dam, we nearly died. The right rear wheel on the pickup totally came off and bounced around under the 5th Wheel. It tore up the whole front end and bent the axle at a ninety degree angle. I felt like I was on a wild bucking bronco. We hurtled down the road, from ditch to ditch, ducking other vehicles. Pat kept praying and I kept saying, “Hang on”! It could have been worse! Just a couple of days before, we’d been snaking down the hairpin turns in the Canadian Rockies near Pincher Creek.

After spending another week or so in Spokane while they fixed our trailer, we headed out again. We finally got to Portland. What a lovely city. One morning, I purchased a copy of the local paper. While reading it, I came across an article about a lady who wanted to become a doctor. It seems that she’d decided this pretty late in the normal scheme of things. She stated that even if she obtained college loans, by the time she graduated from medical school, she wouldn’t have enough lifetime left in which to repay the loans.

I know we all think doctors make small fortunes. Some may, but this was not Nancy’s goal. She wanted to establish a practice on or near a Native American reservation. She wanted to practice medicine in an environment that wouldn’t possibly bring her enough income to repay college loans and still achieve her goals of providing good quality medical treatment for very low income folks.

Her solution? Nancy was selling shares in HERSELF! Well, Pat and I are pretty adventurous. We liked her spunk and thought her idea was unique. We bought several shares in this doctor wannabe. Her promise to us (and other investors) was that each year at Christmas time, she would update us on her progress and send us a picture. Well, she’s kept her word. She became a full-fledged doctor. She and her husband built a log cabin over a long period of time. She established her practice in a very low-income area, in a very small town that would probably not have had any access at all to medical care. Yes, it’s near a Native American reservation.

BTW, every year she and her husband have sent a picture. However, it’s never been of the two of them! They have several big dogs. They put Santa hats and other funny stuff on their dogs and send a picture of their dogs. In fact, the picture at the top of this page is last year’s picture. Accompanying the picture is a neat letter letting us all know how their lives are working out.

Over the years, I’ve thanked the Lord that I bought that paper. I’m so glad that Pat and I were able to “buy” our own doctor! I’m sure our relatively small investment wasn’t a “make or break” factor. However, when joined with hundreds of other “investors”, it made the difference. Not only did Nancy get to realize her lifetime dream of practicing medicine where really needed, the folks who benefit from her healing hands are infinitely better off than they would have been had Nancy and her husband, Steve, not found a way to fulfill their dreams.

Isn’t that essentially what happens when lots of folks help a missionary, even in small amounts, meet their living expenses, so they can meet people’s needs in our country and abroad?

I encourage you to look for creative ways to be a part of someone’s life who has a vision. Congregations who look beyond building their own buildings and funding their own programs are visionary indeed. Families can look for missions projects with needs that can be met through their own resources. One of our son’s, Tim, along with Debbie and their three children, look through promising dumpsters and often find brand new, slightly flawed merchandise. They regularly visit garage sales, looking for suitcases and other items that they can furnish missionaries and their friends headed back to the field.

If you have a story that illustrates the Life Lessons I’ve shared with you, please send them along.  Use the “Leave a Reply” box below!

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