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Inspirational Poetry by Lucky Hope
Eaglewings Poem
The following is one of several events in my life that bear witness to the goodness, power and indwelling presence of Almighty God. In l955, at the age of 33, my life became intertwined with a young man whose parents, missionaries to Liberia for over 20 years, were here visiting the different churches who were sponsoring them and hoping to gain other sponsors to finance another 4 years on the foreign field.
The Son, age 22, was not called to be a missionary, had an air-taxi business in Liberia, and spoke the dialects fluently, and He was here for a year with them. Attending the same church, we became fast friends, both of us pilots, both born-again Christians. During that year, having discovered I had a very strong background as a mechanic, both on Autos, Aircraft and small engines; he began trying to persuade me to return with him to Africa. I was working as a Machinist at the time, and felt no urge to leave a good paying job to go gallivanting off to Africa. Over the following months he urged with every persuasive power he had to get me to go back with him, and I steadfastly refused. Being God's servant, I desired to please Him, and labor for him, but felt no particular call to Africa, and my friend left after a year, and over the following few months, continually wrote letters, urging me to reconsider, with negative results.
After about 6 months, I began to see airplanes everywhere I looked, even in my dreams, on the job, I kept seeing and hearing small aircraft, so I asked God if He wanted me to go to Africa? and my whole world seemed to light up. Very late one night, I was praying about it and the whole room seemed to light up, and I felt I was meant to go.
I booked passage on a freighter, and as soon as it became known, I began receiving requests from missionaries to bring this or bring that. Including my buddy requesting some magnetos and other parts for his airplane, to which I complied. I was given a couple of hundred cubic feet of space in the hold with my ticket...On board the ship, which had only five passengers.
The first day out, I met a black man and his wife. He said he was from Liberia, and had been to a minister's conference in the USA, and was on his way home. He asked me what organization I was from? and when I told him, he asked for my views on the gifts and manifestation of the Holy Spirit. For two weeks, that is what We discussed.
Upon arrival in Monrovia, Liberia, my friend met me at the dock, loaded my things in a cab, which took us to the airport, and from thence to about 300 miles deep in the jungle, to a large mission station. Very shortly, I discovered just why they were so urgent for me to come.
Their sole source of electrical power was generators at each mission station, most of which were non-operative. Also, several other idle pieces of equipment in disrepair, and a very sick jeep, as well as my friends plane was in need of magnetos. My work being cut out for me, being able to work among so many of God's servants supplied much impetus and enthusiasm.
In a later missive, I will go into a little more detail about Almighty God's power in the Jungle, and His ability to use his servants for His own Glory, and how Jesus can be exalted and glorified in the deep jungle.
When it was time for me to leave, (at God's command) I found out by radio that the same ship I went there on, was arriving again in Monrovia in three weeks. I arranged for my friend to fly me there one day before departure. He arranged for me to lodge overnight at a mission school for native girls. Among my gear was an accordion. and was asked to entertain the girls, after the evening meal which I agreed to do. Late that night, one of the girls was caught lurking in the hall outside my room, which I didn't know until the next morning, when I was asked to leave immediately, and that my gear could remain there until I could arrange for its removal.
I went to the dock, and was dismayed to find that the ship was going to be delayed a week, so I started walking in Monrovia, looking for a place to stay. The truth is, there wasn't any. Monrovia in the fifties had no hotels, no boarding houses, rooms, motels, or any other place where one could "cool his heels." I was walking towards town, thanking God in my heart, because He not only knows our distress, before we even ask, but knows how to provide for the need in ways we hadn't even thought of.
I heard a voice calling my last name, looked, and there was a cab, with one passenger -- the Black man who was on the ship. He said where are you going? I told him, I wasn't sure, but was going to find a place to stay. He said "look no further, you're coming home with me" and leaving no time for discussion, opened the cab door and beckoned for me to enter. After inquiring where my luggage was. He directed the taxi there, picked up my luggage, and drove us to the man's house, where I was received joyfully by his wife and two small girls, who within a matter of hours, "adopted me".
When I asked how much it would cost to keep me for a week, He looked injured and said not to insult him, and I never mentioned it again. I found out the next day he was THE chaplain of the whole Liberian Army. and a graduate of a Baptist seminary in the USA.
During that week I played my Accordian accompanying their popular singer, in their huge stadium full of soldiers. I was invited to a banquet at the Presidents palace full of congressmen, senators, and other heads of state and dignitaries. I was the only white man there. Also I was a blond, which created no amount of astonishment, as many of them had never seen a white man.
I was introduced to president Tubman, Grandson of the famous slave, Harriet Tubman. He was not much impressed, merely nodded acknowledgment. The next day my friend and I were entertained at a Senator's house, and treated to what they considered a sumptuous meal. I ate, pretended to like it, but was not enthused about it. For a week I was treated like a king, was entertained by two little girls 7 and 8 years old, who continuously begged for accordion music or Bible stories. They took me to the dock when the ship was ready to leave, and the girls clung to me like I was their uncle, while receiving the most gracious farewell wishes from their parents.
Now, back to the mission Station in the jungle for a moment. The urge to go over there in the first place was strong, but when the time came the urge to leave was ten times greater, which I didn't understand, satisfying work being plentiful, ministering in music, and leading heathens to Jesus emotionally gratifying. But at night I kept hearing in my subconscience :"Go Home" which went unheeded at first with unpleasant consequences that I will relate later. No amount of pleading or offers were able to dissuade me. and I left.
The ship was two weeks in route, arriving in New Orleans, where I debarked, collected steel drums full of souveniers, and arranged for transportation to Los Angeles. I received a letter from a missionary shortly after, that one month to the day, my friend had been killed when His plane hit a tall palm tree, when He was circling over a Mission Station. I did some traveling with him while in Liberia, and I may have been in his plane.
Throughout this whole episode, you can see the hand of God in my life, even through events over which I had utterly no control, or even knowledge. I'd had Malaria five times, and a later Lab test revealed there was not one single malaria parasite in my blood, and to this day no sign of Malaria. The master showed me that 7,500 miles from here and back was not far enough to keep me from his loving care every minute of every hour of every day. I will not fail to praise and Glorify my Lord Continually as long as I live.
There is so much more to say, including me being a flaming torch from having gasoline splashed on my face, rolling in jungle grass to put out the fire, skin hanging in shreds, a six-month beard and mustache gone, as well as eyebrows, lashes, some of the frontal hair that was out from under a hat. I had on short sleeves, and the fire even burned the hair out of my armpits. In five days God removed a face-full of scab, and arms, too, leaving me pink skin, that the natives found exceedingly hard to believe. Also a three day hike deep into the jungle to a village where a white man had never been seen, was able to lead the whole village to a saving knowledge of my Master, Jesus Christ, my friend, the pilot, interpreting. So many miracles have happened in my life I could not begin to put them into a testimony of a page or two.