Marsha's Blog

 OK, since travel is still up in the air, I thought I’d take you on a virtual trip back to Africa today, that is, if you’ve gotten over your jet lag from last week’s visit to Japan. I hope one day soon we’ll be able to REALLY get on a plane! It’s frustrating and at the same time encouraging to know that here in Queensland, with a population of over 5 million, we’ve had only 7 deaths to Covid, and one of those seems to be directly related to a glitch in the vaccine. Yeah, we’ll step up eventually for the “jab” as they call it here, but only because we want to have the airline’s approval to fly.    In the meantime, we still have our memories, and with the internet, can ‘travel’ all we like.  I talked for an hour with my sister, over 10,000 miles away, and it didn’t cost a cent! Life is good.   So back to Africa.  As you probably know, Tony & I spent our first overseas assignment in Zambia, central Africa, doing church and youth work, as well as teaching school.  We were 23 and 25, an

Today, in thinking about heroes, I want to take us back a few years to a couple of women I mentioned in my blog before.  They continue to ‘impress’ me with their story, so here it is.  Back in the 50’s, right after the war, a young girl named Hiroko Nomura, came to know Christ as her Savior, thanks to the witness and direction of a missionary man named Bob Sherer  Like many others before her, Nomura san’s conversion was not met with welcome arms back home.  In fact, her entire family were strict followers of a militant arm of Buddhism, a sect known as “Sokka Gakkai”. Unlike most Buddhists, who are very open-minded when it comes to other faiths, Sokka Gakkai insists upon strict adherence to its beliefs, which span every aspect of life, including one’s finances, family ties and political persuasion.  So Nomura san kept her Christianity a secret for many years. Then, in a bold decision, she asked Bob to baptize her in their city of Kobe at midnight on Christmas Eve.  That must have been c

Good Morning Friends,     This morning I’m sending you an article I came across some time ago.  I think many of us can relate.   I’ve been talking about heroes the last few weeks, and one of the things that really speaks to me is the faithfulness of those men and women, even when faced with difficult or even dangerous situations. In fact, it seems to be those times of testing in the midst of the unknown that sets those people apart. The hero I want to show you today is Dr. William Leslie, a missionary in the Congo around the turn of the last century.    Just to stay alive in that place and at that time was a miracle in itself. The average life expectancy of a missionary to Africa back then was around six months. Dr. Leslie survived for 17 years, carrying the Gospel and treating the sick. The sad thing is, he finally went back home to Ontario, Canada, a broken, discouraged man. If he spoke of his time in the Congo, it was in terms of defeat and discouragement.   We could stop there, and

 Well, it’s been quite a weekend around here.  Good friends and brother-in-law to our daughter Nicki got married “again”…… to each other.  Last year about this time, in a small outback town, they stood in a church in front of a minister and no one else except for parents while they tied the knot. The whole country was in Covid lockdown, so all we could do was tune in on Zoom and wish we were there. At least their friends in town were able to swing by the church for a “drive by rice-ing”, but otherwise it was a pretty lonely affair.  Now, a year later, restrictions have eased, and we thoroughly enjoyed ‘Wedding: Take Two’. Tony even got to officiate this time, so he was quite pleased!     Then, seeing as how lots of relatives had come to town for the event, we threw a Baby shower the next day for Nicki. Such fun.     On the “heroes” theme this week, I wasn’t able to think too lofty, but as I hurried from kitchen to hair, to vacuum cleaner, I remarked to myself that we’re ALL surrounded

 I still have a lot of heroes that I want to talk about, and today I want to tell you about two.  I can’t recall a lot of details about them because I only met them once for an afternoon about 48 years ago. But the fact that I do still recall the experience says something about the influence they had on me.    I’ve been rummaging through my “Africa Mementoes” for a picture of them, and finally remembered that, on that day in Zambia, I felt like I was in the presence of saints, and so taking a picture seemed somehow inappropriate. I do have a picture of their front yard and the wreckage of an old two-engine plane they had dragged in from the bush and set in cement like some sort of memorial.    The plane, they reckoned, was one of several that had been part of a challenge in the 1920s to fly from Cape Town to Cairo. This particular plane obviously didn’t make it, and there was no sign of the pilots, since by the time the wreck was discovered, nearly 30 years had passed.    Tony and I we