Eighty Years Ago Today ...

 ... A tiny baby was born premature in Hanna hospital. The mother asked to see her baby, but the nurses refused.

"You don't want to see your baby ... he probably won't live anyway ... it's best  for you that you don't see him ..." The doctor had had to give the baby an injection to kick-start his heart.

"I. Want. To. See. My. Baby," the mother insisted.

Finally, with great reluctance, they brought her son to her. He was swaddled in cotton wool. His mother later remarked that he looked like he was covered with the scales of a fish rather than skin. She was told to keep him in cotton wool for a month and not to let him cry for the first few weeks.

The mother cradled her baby and loved him. She asked God to spare her baby's life; and she promised Him that if He would keep her baby alive, she would give him back to Him to serve Him.

The son grew up wanting to be a boxer. She never stood in his way; as a matter of fact, she would get up extremely early to make sure he had breakfast and everything he might need for the day. 

But through the provision of God, the young man's heart and mind were changed and he became a missionary instead. He went to India in 1959 and served there for 40 years. Somewhat surprisingly to him at the time his mother never said anything to try to dissuade him. Today he still preaches and teaches and offers counsel and wisdom to many people, including the College and its offshoots in India.

The mother passed away almost seventy years later. Ten days before she died she told my Dad this story of the start to his life. With that, he finally understood why she was so able to let him leave all those years ago.

Happy eightieth birthday, Dad! "Faithful is He that called you who also will do it."