A new zest for life!

The new found freedom and joy I was experiencing was a huge contrast to the prior eight months.  I still walked to work, but inside felt like I was skipping.  It was exciting to be aware of His presence with me.  Jesus was my constant companion, and it was as though He was physically walking beside me.  Joy bubbled up inside, and I felt at times like I would burst with the happiness I felt.  It felt as though I was born again, again!

Dozens of times I had walked down the street in tears, but now I had a burning desire in my heart, "Lord, how can we reach these people that need you?"  It was as if then my eyes were opened.  There it was, standing empty and abandoned.  Prime real estate in down town Inuvik!  What had been a drug store now stood quiet, the windows boarded up.  The gracious Holy Spirit nudged me, "What a great place for a coffee house"!  The idea stuck in my head.  Why hadn't I noticed it before?  It was nestled amongst the busiest area of town, across from the main hub, the Bay.  It was where I bought expensive groceries, such as 'tri-milk', made to be mixed with water, and costly vegetables and fruit that were flown in.  It was also the place people hung out to visit besides the 3 local bars.   Drinking was definitely the drug of choice, and the most predominant activity in the north.  I hoped that might change!

This idea that was birthed in me to start a coffee house had to be shared.  First I got together with Wes, a student Pastor at the Pentecostal Church and Brenda, a young woman helping to start a Baptist Church there.  I could hardly contain myself when I met with them!  I shared my vision, which was only an idea at first.  Wes, Brenda and I prayed that if this was God's idea, He would make it happen.   As the days and nights wore on, ideas poured in as well as needed things to make it a reality.  It was so exciting to see God at work, and we were partnering with Him and saw Him do great things. 

First, I went to meet the owner of the building and asked him about renting this facility.  I wanted it to be a gathering place of people who could come have a coffee and visit. It would be an alternative to  meeting at the bars and getting drunk.  He liked the idea, and agreed to charge us just $10 a night, and we only had to pay for the nights of the week that we used it!  Truly a miracle in a place where rents were unbelievably high!  Wow, "God is so good" was my theme!  Little did I know that 3 weeks from the day the thought first entered my mind we would be opening the coffee house!  My next thought was we needed tables, so I went to one of the local bars, and asked if they might have older tables we could use!  And yes they did have them in storage, and yes we could use them for free!  But did they know we would be taking some of their business as well?  I was constantly asking God for His provision, as I truly believed it was His idea!  Another day, I was walking around town and talking to God, and I noticed a beautiful log government building that was in the process of being built.  As I came closer, I noticed many log ends that were laying around the building site.  A worker was up on the roof, so I started to climb the ladder towards him.  As I neared the top, I asked what was being done with those log ends.  I mentioned that some Christian friends and myself were starting a coffee house, and I thought those logs looked like they would work well as 'stools' around the tables we had.  He replied that the logs weren't being used, that if we could use them, we were welcome to them.  He said they may be kind of rough to sit on, but that wasn't a problem for God!  A business man down town had plenty of carpet samples to give us.  We just stapled carpet samples on one end of the logs, and voila!  Now we had bar tables, and plenty of seating!  The building needed some paint, so we began painting it with left over paint we were given.  Instead of the bare spots on the walls where shelves had been torn down, now there was lots of colour in the room.  While we were painting one day, a guy poked his head in the door and asked what we were doing.  I told him about the coffee house, and he offered to give us fabric.  We had been just told that we could have Christian films sent up to be shown at the coffee house at no charge to us!  The only problem we had faced was that the sun shone constantly during the summer, and it would be difficult to see the film with all that light.  So almost as soon as we recognised the problem we might have, God provided the solution!  This complete stranger offered enough fabric to cover all the windows in the place.  I set about sewing the curtains, with a machine that was lent to me. I finished them the day the coffee house opened!

There were many great musicians from various churches I knew so I suggested that we start a band to minister at the coffee houses.  Wes was a good guitar player, Brenda had a fabulous voice, and there were several others who joined.  I had purchased a piano that I had moved to the coffee house, so we could use it for our band.   God provided a stage through another stranger who enquired what we were doing.  He offered large cable 'spools' that were different sizes and heights, and they worked great for the drums, and various other musicians to stand on.  I had a fairly large Christian library which I turned into a lending library for anyone who wanted to borrow books.  We got a coffee urn, and we decided to have Adult evenings on Friday and Saturdays.  We had Christian films to show, a band to sing and play, and spirit-filled Christians from every denomination that were ready to show the love of Christ to those who came in the door.  Thursday evenings were for children, and we had puppet shows as well as drama and songs for them.  My friend Pam from CLBI had come to help cheer me up, and was excellent working with the children.  There was an amazing group of friends who loved the Lord and served others in the community.  It was such a privilege to know them.

One day, about mid way during this flurry of activity, I met William Bonnetplume.  He was an Aboriginal 31 year old man who stopped me one day outside my apartment complex.  "Could you give me money to buy a sandwich?" was his request.  I could tell he was coming off one of his drunken binges.  He was a very talented artist, and was known to paint skilfully, and then would go and get drunk after he sold one of his 'treasures'.  How sad and futile I thought, and replied, "William, you stay here, and I'll bring you back a sandwich and a glass of milk".  I knew better than to invite him to come into my place.  A few minutes later, I was back with his food, and suddenly felt very bold.  "William, can't you see that your life is going down hill?  God has given you talents, and you are wasting your life on booze.  Why don't you come to see Dr. Heine tomorrow, and he can help you with your alcohol problem."  The next day, I was astonished when William showed up at the clinic.  Dr. Heine saw him and admitted him into the hospital, so he could go through detox.  I went to see him in the hospital, and told him he was doing the right thing to get the help he needed.  He asked me if I would bring him some paints and canvases, so he'd have something to do in the hospital.  While he was there, he made quite a lot of money selling pictures to the doctors and nurses! 

When William got out, he came by the coffee house.  I  talked to him about what we were doing, and he seemed really interested in helping in some way.  He said he wanted to paint Jesus on the cross, but he wanted his people to identify with Jesus, so he wanted to make Jesus look like his people up there.  There were many Inuit or Eskimos, as well as Aboriginal or Indians.  I got him a sheet of plywood like he asked, and he painted a graphic picture of Jesus' suffering.  Others as well looked like they'd been beaten and suffered, as well as Jesus.  We hung the picture in a prominent place for everyone to see who entered the coffee house.   

As William was homeless most of the time, he told me one evening that he was going to sleep at the coffee house.  I told him I couldn't allow him to, as I was just renting the space and didn't have the authority to allow someone to stay there.   It was getting close to midnight (but bright and sunny!), and he refused to leave.  I begged and pleaded with him to listen, but he wouldn't!  Feeling rather foolish, I finally threatened to call the police, and he said, "Go ahead".  I really didn't have a choice, but I felt really dumb, as he had been helping me.  The police finally came, and helped me remove him.  I guess he just wanted to sleep in a good bed and have a decent meal (in jail)!  The police just took him to see if he could 'camp' at someones house!  William also used special paints and painted 'stained glass' windows there.  It was really beautiful. 

I distinctly remember the first coffee house night, as it was very exciting for me.  Our band was playing, and a drunk guy staggered in, and asked if he could sing something.  I was a little scared at what he might say or do, but Wes graciously handed his guitar to the drunk man, who proceeded to sing 'Amazing Grace'.  Thank God, he never ever cursed!  That night, two men came to know the Lord. One was a travelling dentist who came with others from the hospital to see what was happening.  I heard that he later went to Bible School.  It would be so interesting to hear where the Lord lead him in his life.  Every night that I recall,  there were people accepting the Lord.

One day, William and two of his buddies figured out where I lived.  I heard a knock on my door, and when I saw William and two very rough looking characters, I breathed a "God protect me" prayer.  We visited and sang choruses while one of the guys played guitar.  Later, a lady scolded me for allowing these guys in my place who had spent several years in jail.  One of them held a lady at knife point and I never heard what the other one was in jail for.  God was gracious and protected me.  I often joke about my verse, "The Lord preserves the simple", but it really was no joke that He has kept me safe all these years of taking chances!


Another person I met during this time was John, who had been a taxi driver.  I met him while visiting at the hospital.  John was one of the most miserable guys I have ever met.  He had suffered a debilitating stroke in his late twenties,  had been paralysed for some time, and been in hospital 3 years. He bragged about how he used to be a heavy drinker and womaniser.  I mentioned that God loved him.  That comment brought a string of curse words from him, and 'how can you say that, when there is so much suffering in the world, wars, natural disasters, etc'.   I decided that I wouldn't mention God again, unless there was an opportunity.  He seemed to be lonely, so I decided to keep coming to visit him.  One day, his comment took me completely by surprise.  "Can you help me? he begged, "I am afraid, and I think I'm going to die".  This wasn't what I was expecting from him!  He went on to talk about a dream he had the night before, about being in a dark place, and in the distance an angel telling him he couldn't come in.  He said, "I don't want to go to that dark place, can you help me!"  I told him that I could explain to him how he could go to heaven, if that's what he wanted.  He agreed, and seemed to be so desperate to know!  I found it almost hard to believe this was happening, but I shared the gospel with him, and he accepted Christ into his life.  Then rather than dying, he started getting better, and within a month, was out of the hospital, walking with a cane.  He came to church and Bible study, and it just blew me away how he could be the same man who was constantly cursing God and blaming Him for everything!  God is so good, and I was reminded that no one or nothing is too difficult for God.  I thought of Saul of Tarsus, killer of Christians became the apostle Paul, the greatest missionary and writer of much of the New Testament.  It renewed my faith in the ability of God to change anyone!

Earlier, I alluded to the fact that Dr. Heine didn't seem to be able to tolerate me too well when I was no longer depressed.  One day, he called me into his office and said, "Wendy, if you have anything more to do with the coffee house, I will have to fire you".  It was a shock, to say the least, but I agreed, wondering who would take over the 'reins'.  The next day, Wednesday was my only day off during the week, so I went to do some work at the coffee house.  I reasoned that it was my day off, so it should be OK.  The next morning, Cezar called me in and told me I was fired.  As I walked away, the song "Hallelujah, I am free.  Jesus came and He rescued me..." rang in my heart.  That evening, as I walked, my heart cried out to be more like Jesus.  I had just read the book, 'The Calvary Road' which talks about Jesus being like a worm willing to be crushed, and not like a snake which strikes back when He was wrongly accused.  I cried from the depths of my heart that I wanted to be a worm like Jesus, not a snake like the devil is.  I wanted to be dead to myself, my old nature so that I could truly be free in Christ.  After being fired, I was determined to try and be reconciled with Cezar, so I continued to go to church.  I also went to any fellowship gatherings I knew about, and I invited Cezar over for a nice supper.  It seemed that there was still a rift, and I wasn't sure why.  But God is so gracious.  More than a year later, following a car accident near Portage la Prairie, Manitoba we had a 'chance' meeting.  Believe me, I know it was arranged by God.  Because of my car accident, I had a couple of boxes still in Brandon, Manitoba where I'd been living.  Pastor Vern Roste and his wife Sonja were driving there for a Pastor's conference, so I caught a ride with them.  Who should I meet up with there but Dr. Cezar Heine!  He asked if I would go out with him for pizza, and while there, he asked me to forgive him for how he had treated me!  I replied that I was glad to, that I had never held anything against him.  I was so grateful that God allowed us to be reconciled, especially when I heard a few years later that he passed away.  God is so good, and He works all things together for good.....in His time!

An overwhelming sadness

It was an exciting time, and my job provided alot of variety.  Dr. Heine gave me on the job training, and I pricked baby's heels in order to do tests on their blood, helped him with the chiropractic adjustments he did, and pretty much everything else around the office.  Cezar was an interesting character.  He was extremely hard working, to the point that 'workaholic' wasn't an exaggeration.  Rarely did I see him, without studying some new medical journal or preparing for his sermons, when he wasn't stitching someone up or counselling a drunk.  His living quarters were above his medical office, and he had Marc living with him, who did custodial work at the hospital.  He also had Teddy, an Inuit man who struggled with his alcoholism.  I remember having to make sure there was nothing around, especially Listerine for him to drink.  Once in a while, he would stumble into the office, and we'd have to settled him into bed to sleep it off.  Sometimes it felt like we were operating a three ring circus, but Cezar had a good heart.  He had been married earlier in his life, but never seemed to talk about it, and I knew he had a son.  He rarely saw him, I guessed, because I never met him and I was there for a year.  It must have been difficult.  The way Cezar buried himself in his work, it was understandable that his marriage had failed.  It seemed to me that he worked like a 'slave' of God, rather that a son.  That was just my opinion.  We talked about what we believed, and there was a definite disconnect somewhere.  Cezar was very gung-ho on evangelism, but understood the means of grace, or baptism, holy communion and the word of God to be only what comes out of a pastor's mouth!  He said these were the only ways of Christian growth.  I was shocked!  I challenged him, "What about prayer, reading the Bible, fellowshipping with other believers?"  He said none of these could bring growth as a believer, it had to be the 'sacraments'.  We talked about the Holy Spirit, and greatly differed on this subject as well.  I freely told him I had experienced the 'baptism in the Spirit' and knew of His empowering, prayed in tongues, and saw the Holy Spirits role as crucial in our lives.  He very much disagreed, so I set out to try and work with him, and not talk about these things to anyone.  What was curious to me, was how interested he was in evangelism.  He had gone to a weekend conference called Evangelism Explosion, a program I was very familiar with.  His expectation of me was to present the gospel ten times a week!  I was shocked!  How could I do that, I would feel like a JW!  And I had been accustomed to working with one or two others, but I'd be all by myself. 

I spent a fair bit of time in Inuvik amongst the Inuit and Indian peoples, especially those living in abject poverty.  The poverty was mostly because of addictions such as alcohol.  One place I had earlier made an appointment, I arrived only to find that everyone there was drunk on what had been bought with their recent welfare cheques.  It didn't take long for me to realise that I should be going, there was no use for me to hang around.  Harry, completely sloshed, stood in my way in front of the door, slobbered out, "You ain't goin' anywhere honey", to which I chocked out another one of those, "Help me God" prayers.  To my good fortune, Harry's wife Lucy wasn't completely passed out as I thought she was.  She staggered over to the door, heaved with all her might, and pushed Harry over, "Leave her alone, Harry" she screamed.  I was out the door like a flash and running, let me tell you!  Harry got up quickly and yelled obscenities after me, threatening to kill me.  I waited a few days before I went back!  Guess I was a bit too trusting for my own good.  What I found there made me cry.  Lucy was sprawled out on the step as she had been obviously beaten and passed out.  Their 4 year old daughter was standing in snow with just panties on and crying over her Mom.  It bewildered me, as I wasn't accustomed to seeing things like this.  A woman next door volunteered information.  She said this was a common occurrence in their household, and in fact their small daughter had put out a fire in the house that would have surely killed them all.  As I didn't know what else to do, I phoned social services.  Someone came and picked up the little girl, only to return her after a few days when everyone sobered up.  There wasn't enough safe places to take children.  I remember hearing of a baby who died from exposure, who was completely neglected because of so much drinking.  I actually had two different Inuit roommates up there, each of them had brothers who had killed their wives in a drunken rage.  Living there was an eye opener. 

One day I knocked on the door of an apartment and was greeted by a thirty-something Caucasian woman.  As usual, I introduced myself and that I was from the Lutheran church, and could I come in and talk with her about issues of faith?  She agreed, but when I came through the door and noticed the huge burly looking man in the kitchen, I got a little scared.  She motioned for me to come into the living room, where there was an unbelievable commotion going on.  There were cats, dogs and kids running, chasing around, screaming at the top of their lungs.  I wondered how this could ever work!  I breathed another one of those quick 'help me God' prayers, and please don't let that huge guy in there toss me out into a snow bank!  Our conversation progressed to the point where we were discussing how does one get to heaven, and why should God let us into heaven anyway?  Wouldn't you know, that's when the big guy decides to come and join us!  Well, I have to admit, the rest of my presentation was anything but good.  I am quite sure I was visibly shaking!  But I was completely shocked when I asked a question as to whether or not she wanted Christ in her life?  Not only did she, but her husband did as well!  Plus, later on, they wanted to be baptised along with their kids, and I got to be one of the sponsors!  Thank God that it wasn't my skillful presentation of the gospel, but it was the Holy Spirit doing his work, preparing hearts and changing lives.  What a good lesson for me to learn.

On one Wednesday (it was Cezar and my day off), I got a desperate phone call from Anastasia.  She was a Catholic lady, one of Cezar's patients and she was adamant that she needed to see Cezar that day.  Apologetically, I said that was impossible, as Cezar always made himself scarce on his day off, probably so he could keep his sanity.  He liked to spend time outdoors, and there was no way to reach him.  Alternately, I asked if I could stop by on my way to do volunteer work at the hospital.  It was a short walk, and not too far out of my way. When I arrived, Anastasia seemed quite frantic, and complained of sharp pains in her swollen abdomen, she was hemorrhaging badly and she felt very weak.  I tried to encourage her, not knowing what to do, I asked if I could pray for her.  She really wanted me to, so I proceeded.  I reminded her that Jesus is the same yesterday, today and forever.  That He is able to do far more abundantly than all we ask or even dare to imagine.  I said that when Jesus walked on earth, there was a woman who had bleed for 12 years, and she just touched the hem of His garment, and immediately the bleeding stopped.  I told her that Jesus was there in that room, and that He could do the same thing for her, if she reached out by faith and 'touched Him'.  My commitment at the hospital was very soon, so I had to excuse myself, but I promised to get in touch as soon as I was able to.  An hour or so later, I got home to the phone ringing.  I picked up the receiver and I heard, "It happened, it happened, just like you said it would"  Shocked, I questioned, "What?"  Anastasia told me that just as soon as I left, the bleeding stopped, the swelling went down, and the pain was gone.  I couldn't believe it!  It obviously wasn't any great faith on my part, because when it actually happened, I was stunned!   I'm so thankful that it isn't our great faith, but rather a 'mustard-seed' faith in a great God that works miracles!  It was a good lesson for me!

With all these things happening, you would think I would be very excited.  Quite the opposite was happening.  Even though people were coming to Christ and I was witnessing miracles, I was sad.  Every day that went by, I seemed to get sadder.  I just couldn't understand it.  I searched my heart, I plead with God to change me, to bring me close to Him.  I felt like I was falling away from Him, was losing my first love.  I often would cry and didn't know why.  Things became a struggle, everything did.  I started felling like such a hypocrite.  Thankfully, I still attended on Thursdays an inter-denominational evening that was held at Terry and Blanche Buckles place.  They were a wonderful loving couple who ministered in the Anglican church in Inuvik.  We would always have a refreshing evening of worship and praise, and pray for each other.  There were people from all the various denominations who attended; Catholic, Pentecostal, Baptist, Lutheran, Anglican.  Many times I asked for prayer, as I certainly wasn't myself.  This thing called depression had reared its ugly head, but I didn't know what it was and how to change myself.

Cezar noticed that I wasn't myself.  He sat me down, and talked about leading a balanced life (not sure he was!)  He spoke of the need for personal life, church, community, friends, etc. in a balance.  That sounded like good advice, so I tried to no avail to have balance in my life.  One of my biggest problems was that I could not sleep.  Little did I know that sleep deprivation would be my experience throughout my life when I was depressed or the opposite, manic.  I am getting ahead of myself now!  When Cezar saw that things were getting more desperate for me, he suggested that I go home to my family for Christmas.  He thought that might cheer me up.  Unfortunately, the opposite happened.  I was very unhappy, but tried hard not to show it, but everyone knew.  What they couldn't do was to cheer me up.  It just made me feel worse that I wasn't happy to see them!  It was very strange.  A week later, I was on my way back to Inuvik very sad  and feeling quite hopeless.  This wasn't the way a Christian should be, I thought!  I came back to my apartment to find that 16 year old Bonny, who I allowed to stay with me, had trashed the place.  She had a drunken binge while I was away, which did not help matters.  I asked her to leave, but gave her some of the food that I had bought to help her.  A couple of weeks later, I got a nasty phone bill that was several hundred dollars.  While I was away, she had called long distance to Yellowknife many times.  I called the phone company, but of course was responsible for all the calls she had made.  One of the things I struggled with was being too trusting.

One day during office hours, Pastor Terry Buckle phoned me.  The Lord had spoken to him that morning from James 5:14-16, and he was sure it pertained to me.  He asked if I would be willing to meet with him and Linda that evening, and just do what the scripture said to.  Of course I was willing, but inwardly I doubted if anything would come of it.  I was feeling so hopeless, and this had dragged on for 8 months now.  That evening we met in the quiet sanctuary, and Terry instructed me that they would pray, as I sat and wrote down everything that was bothering me.  That was alot!  The thoughts of so many bad things I had done, how inadequate I felt I was, and on and on I wrote.  After quite some time, I went in and told them I thought I was finished.  We went to the altar, and as this passage admonishes us to do, to "confess our sins one to another, and pray for one another, that you may be healed."  That is exactly what happened.  It was a humbling experience to confess before people that I admired and looked up to so much, and then after, Terry anointed me with oil, and they lay their hands on me and prayed for me.  He assured me that I was forgiven, and prayed for protection for me against the enemy.  What I felt, I can only describe as liquid love was poured on my head, and it flowed through my whole being.  It was amazing!  I walked home, feeling so elated and so filled with the love of God.  I wondered if this would be gone by morning.  The next day, I woke up feeling fully alive, so grateful to be alive!  It felt as though I was on a honeymoon, but with Jesus!  Thankfulness and joy were my constant companions.  What a difference!

Everyone who met me noticed the change.  Cezar did not seem to like the change.  It seemed like the happier I became, the sadder he was.  It seemed rather strange, but he accused me of putting this on, he would get angry at the smallest things.  And I kept asking God to help me to love him more, I chose to forgive him when he mistreated me.  I was not going to go back to the way I felt before.

Land of the Midnight Sun

Feelings of anticipation, fear of the unknown and excitement all churned simultaneously within me..  I looked down, as the airplane prepared for landing.  The sunshine glistened off hundreds of tiny lakes.  The terrain was unlike anything I had ever seen, with unspoiled wilderness as far as the eye could see.  Down, down we went to my new life in the far north.  I didn't know a soul there.

My mind flashed back to two years ago, almost to the day.  I had gone to Bible School to 'try it out' as  I was definitely searching.  The night before Bible School started, I had gone out for one more 'fling' and got stoned with friends.  Kathy and I, neither of us Christians yet, both arrived on a Tuesday to CLBI.  We felt out of place at first, but wanted to give it a go.  That first Friday, Kathy begged me to come home to Provost with her, as she needed to bring her brother's car back to him.  I balked at the idea, knowing how easy it was to go back and party there.  But I was easily influenced, so I went with her.  Just as I'd anticipated, Jim and Brian had called my sister, and wanted to meet us at the bar in Macklin.  So there I found myself, against my better judgement and again feeling 'out of place'.  Jim asked me about CLBI, and I got rather excited when I talked about it.  I felt my desire for this 'old life' I had been living was fading.  Not that I needed to go, but went into the bathroom and prayed my first real prayer, "I need your help Lord". It's a prayer I've since prayed many times in my life.  I came back to the table, and Jim had written a message on a package of matches that read, "Wendy, you are doing the right thing, keep doing it"  (sadly, Jim died an early death at 31 from alcoholism and drug addiction).  My realisation that night was that I didn't want the life I'd been living, but wanted the new life I saw that others students had at Bible School.  The next evening, there was a film being shown in Chauvin called "A Thief in the Night".  Kathy and I went to see it.  It hit me hard.  I knew if Jesus were to return that night, I wasn't ready to meet Him!  At the invitation, I went forward and poured out my heart to God.  I sincerely repented of all the sins I could recall, and truly was born again!  Never again did I have a desire for drugs or the other things I'd been involved with.  I felt so free!

It was exciting to be at the Bible School, as I now had a relationship with Christ as my Savior and friend.  I got involved in a number of things, including working with handicapped children, playing piano for a travelling team, evangelism and prayer.  Things were pretty exciting there.  One day, a cousin of mine called me to say he had a scary experience in university.  He had gotten involved with some weird stuff, and experienced a demonic presence come into his room.  He thought the 'monstrous thing' would kill him, and out of sheer terror, blurted out, "I believe in Jesus Christ".  Immediately, the demon left!  He called me, asking why this had happened and wanted help.  I was a very new believer, so felt this was a little 'beyond' me!  Fortunately, there were other students experienced in dealing with the demonic who were able to help him and prayed for him.  The devil had some tricks he tried playing on me as well.  A few weeks after my conversion, I was in a prayer meeting, and thoughts of my sinful behaviour was all I could think of.  I was experiencing condemnation big time!  I was afraid to tell anyone about it, because I didn't want them to know what an awful person I was.  In fact, I wondered how I really could be saved when my thinking was like this.  I struggled this way for a few weeks.  Finally, I was helped by a message given by an elderly woman at one of our chapel times.  She shared how when Satan brings condemning thoughts into our minds, that we need only confess our sin once, and  after that, start praising God for the victory that Christ won for us. Even, if I couldn't push the thought away, keep praising ! I learned that the Word of God, which is the 'Sword of the Spirit' and praise are both powerful weapons against the enemy of our souls.  It would be a lesson I would need to learn again and again.  The evangelism teams that I served with would also prove to be extremely helpful in my time in Inuvik.

Dr Cezar Heine, also a Lutheran Pastor and his friend Marc met me at the airport.  We drove the short 7 mile distance into Inuvik.  It amazed me when I was told that this was the only road in the area!  During the winter, people drove on the 'ice road' which was basically driving on the Mackenzie River.  In the summer, that same river was used to transport most things that were needed in this isolated place.  Everything else had to be flown in, which made perishable things such as milk, vegetables and fruit extremely costly.  All the buildings were up on 'stilts' due to the permafrost.  Even the electric and sewer lines were above the ground in 'utilidors'.  The trees grew to be only about my height, and the growing season was extremely short.  What made this place really different, was the fact that the length of days changed so drastically.  In the summer time, the sun went around the sky in a big circle, thus the term, midnight sun.  In the winter, no one sees the sun for thirty days, and there are many months of mostly cold and darkness.

It didn't take long to realise I lived amongst many needy people.  One night, I heard screaming and crying in the night that woke me from a deep slumber.  I pulled on my robe and tried to determine where the sound was coming from.  It seemed to be above me, so I walked down the hall of my apartment, up the stairs and counted down the doors until I thought I got to the right one.  I stood there with another "help me Lord" prayer, and knocked.  A man came to the door, looking puzzled, as it was close to midnight.  Sheepishly, I said, "I could hear a baby crying, and I just wondered if I could help somehow".  He said kindly, "Well, there is no baby here, so you must have the wrong place".  I walked back down the hall, feeling a little foolish.  I went back to my place, but again I could hear the ruckus.  Then it dawned on me that it was my next door neighbour!  Marjory was about my age and had a baby, and was living with Bill Farmer, who was 52.  I cringed at the thought, and boldly went next door, and banged on it.  Bill came to the door, and I asked him the same question.  He said, "Everything is fine here" and slammed the door in my face.  "What can I do?" I thought, and went back home to bed.  About 3am, Marjory ran over sobbing, clutching her baby and pounding on the door.  She looked terrible, had a black eye, and blood was dripping from a fresh wound.  I wrapped my arms around both of them, and struggled to contain my anger.  I got a cloth, and insisted, "Marjory, we have to phone the police and report Bill"  She refused, thinking he would just come and hurt her more.  It was his drinking that caused him to do this and she begged me to not do it.  But as the night wore on, and we talked, she finally relented, and I called the police.  Marjory made a statement, and I told her she was welcome to stay at my place while I went to work.  Two hours of sleep wasn't enough, but would have  to do.  When I returned home, I was dismayed to find that Bill had sweet talked Marjory into dropping the charges against him, and she agreed to go back.  Of course he charmed her with how much he loved her, and would never do that again, that yes, he would quit drinking.  Only thing was, the same scenario repeated itself again and again.

During this time, I realised how much I needed to learn God's Word, so I began reading and taping it on my cassette recorder, so that I could listen again and again while I did housework.  It has been something that I have valued over the years, and it is such a great way for me to learn and memorise.  I remember seeing 100 Huntley Street for the first time in Inuvik, and I cried.  With so many needy people, how wonderful to think that they could be reached in their own homes by watching TV!  It was an exciting broadcast, and so positive.

All things work together!

Feeling fine as I lay there, I looked at Gloria. She was obviously uncomfortable in the chair. "We should trade places", I suggested again. "Trading places in the car seemed to be what got us in this mess in the first place!" I started to laugh! The more I laughed, the funnier it all seemed. Gloria joined in laughing, and we laughed until we cried. Every time I took a deep breath and asked what we were laughing for, we both started to howl! I have never laughed so hard in all my life. I said, "We'd better be careful, or they'll send us to the mental hospital", and we laughed hysterically. We literally laughed for several hours; I heard later that this is called shock. Well I found being in shock a lot of fun!   Somehow, in the next hours we were able to get control of our emotions enough to start wondering how we would ever leave this hospital, and where would we go! We were two provinces away from my parents, and much further away from Gloria's. The people that were closest to me were probably in the Good Samaritan Lodge that I had managed in Onanole, Manitoba. They were an unlikely bunch to be able to help! Eleven old folks resided there, six of them were alcoholics, two had been transferred from a mental hospital for me to care for. One of the ladies had a stroke while I was there, and became a total care patient. Another man had Alzheimer's, and didn't know the difference between the toilet and the bath tub when I helped him into the tub. I was their cook, cleaner, bathed them, their hairdresser, (I was the only staff), even got one out of the bar on occasion! All for a whopping $300. a month! One of my favourite guys there, Harry, was a midget. I loved his stories. He told of a time when he was in court for drinking and driving.  The judge asked him to stand up, which he did. The judge said sternly a second time "I said stand up!" Harry, replied, "I am sir" and walked forward, but of course he was taller sitting in the chair than he was standing. He was a hoot, and I look forward to seeing him someday, because I had the privilege of leading him to Christ when I worked there. Anyways, I kind of got off on a rabbit trail. I do that often!

So I thought and thought. We knew the car was towed to Winnipeg, so it wouldn't be any help to us. The only thing I could see us doing was flying from Winnipeg to Edmonton. But how to get to Winnipeg? A nurse gave me a phone book, and the doctor said we could leave the hospital only if we had a ride. Maybe he was afraid we were too disoriented to go by bus. By then my sprained ankle did hurt a fair bit, so I couldn't step on it. I 'barely' knew three people in Winnipeg, but thought I'd better give this a shot. Finally I reached someone. His name was Terry Welsh. Once he had come to the Good Samaritan Lodge where I worked to speak at a Sunday service. The owners of the Lodge were Christians, and had 3 other homes for seniors. The trouble was, they found it difficult keeping staff (we were so well paid!), so the husband was in one home, his wife in another, and their teenagers were running another one. Anyways, I asked Terry if he remembered me, and he didn't. When I reminded him that I was managing this old folk's place, then he remembered. I continued on and told him our predicament, and asked if I could possibly pay him to pick us up and take us to the airport. Without hesitation, he agreed. Gloria and I were beginning to see that "God works all things together for good..."

A while later, Terry came with his girlfriend, also Terry Welsh (what are the chances of dating someone with the same first and last name?)  Introductions were made all around, and a wheel chair brought for me. We made small talk on the way to the car. Terry began, "I have taken the day off tomorrow, as I have a cold. I'm fine to help you girls though, but I don't think I have energy to do my job as a drama professor". Wow, I thought! He is willing to take the day off to help us. Praise God! I think he dropped off his girl friend, and took us to his place. I'm sure he realised there was too much to get done and we were too tired to be doing it the day of the accident. So he kindly gave us supper and a nice bed to sleep. We were exhausted, but felt so cared for.

The next morning, Terry took us to the car insurance place, and we were directed to where my smashed car was being stored. It was full of almost all my earthly possessions, as I was in the process of moving from Brandon, Manitoba to Edmonton when I drove to the States. I was hobbling around on one foot.  Terry was so helpful. Eventually everything got packed into 13 boxes and suitcases. It seemed to me that there was very little that was destroyed besides my car. We went through all the paper work that had to be done to make a claim on my little Honda. It was my first car, a maroon one that I bought for a good price from houseparents at CLBI. I really enjoyed that car! So, with all that done, all we needed was to get on a plane. I tried to remember whether or not I would have enough money in my account to even buy a ticket. I was trusting things to work out, please God! Then, by faith, I offered to pay Terry for all he had done for us. "I wouldn't think of it", replied Terry! We tried and tried to at least pay his gas, but he adamantly refused. He was a Good Samaritan in the true sense of the word! He found out when there was a flight to Edmonton, and took us to the airport. As he carried all 13 boxes and suitcases in for me, I thought, "Oh Lord, how will I afford to take all this on the plane?" I gingerly stepped up to the counter, and told the man that we'd been in a car accident, my car was totalled, and by the way, "How much will it cost to bring this much stuff on board?" He glanced down at my stuff, looked at me and replied, "It won't cost you anything" Gloria and I glanced at each other, inwardly praising the Lord for making a way for us. He then asked me my name, "Wendy Paulgaard" I replied. He looked rather surprised, and said, "Do you know Arvid Paulgaard?" It was my turn to look surprised! "That's my Dad!" He smiled knowingly, and told us how he had come to the Provost area, and Dad let him hunt birds in his field. What a small world! I recently read "Coincidence is when God chooses to remain anonymous". We chatted a bit more, then he asked for payment, Terry gave him the luggage, and we said our thank yous and goodbyes. It seemed so surreal how things were working out. I knew God was the one who had a hand in it all. As we got settled in our seats on the plane, I looked at my ticket. "I can't believe this", I told Gloria, "that man paid part of my ticket!" The Lord knew that I had very little money in my bank account, so He had put it on this man's heart to pay part of my ticket. I don't remember the exact amount, it was something like either $20 or $40 ( a fair amount of money 34 years ago!) But it was God's provision. We settled back in our seats, knowing we were in God's hands.

I had no clue who would pick us up at the airport, but I guess I wasn't worrying. God had taken great care us, and He didn't need us to be fretting and worrying. Besides, I knew some people in Edmonton. We got off the plane, me still hobbling along. We barely got into the terminal, and to my amazement, there were Linda and John in front of my eyes! I almost shrieked with joy! We hugged one another, and I introduced Gloria to them. I told them we were in a car accident, and didn't exactly know where we were going next. The next thing Linda said to me just about floored me! She said "John and I are getting married this Saturday at St. Paul's Anglican, and we really want you to come" My heart was bursting with excitement! I knew I'd see many friends there that meant so much to me. I had spent a year in Inuvik, NWT (which is another story), and when I left, I was so sure the Lord would provide me another job to go back to Inuvik. But there was no job to be had, and some of my friends graciously sent my belongings down to Edmonton for me. I never got a chance to say goodbye to my amazing friends up there, and thought I'd never get to see them again. But here were John and Linda in front of me, asking me to come to their wedding, and I would see my other friends too. "God is so good" is all I could say. If it hadn't been for my car accident, I never would have bumped into them and never known about their wedding. They had tried to track me down, but I had moved too many times. "God works all things together" was again coming to mind. Wow, this week was turning out to be pretty exciting!

I don't know how I got there, but I ended up at "Ma and Pa Stone's" place. They were Pentecostal missionary types that I'd met in Inuvik, and they had to be in their seventies. They were like Grandparents to everyone they met, and they took me and my stuff in while I recuperated. Gloria's friends came to pick her up. The funny thing was, they had an awful lot of company while I was there! It seemed that someone would barely get through the door, and Pa would say, "Wendy, tell them your story!" So again, I would recount all that the Lord had done for us! And then he'd say a few times "Praise the Lord!" I think he was inviting people over, just so he'd hear the story again! We actually had so much fun there and lots of good laughs! I don't remember how long I stayed with them, but I know it was until after John and Linda's wedding. I decided the next stop was the Greyhound Bus Depot which we take me back to my parent's farm.

I made my way into the bus to get ready for the relaxing 5 hour ride. I had no sooner sat down, than a girl I'd gone to high school with got onto the bus. Our eyes met, and she walked towards me. We were glad to see each other, and while the bus started rolling, we were chit chatting about the past 4 years since our graduation.  She had continued to party, and was living with a married man at that time. We'd both been into drugs, alcohol, you name it during our high school years. It was the way I lived until I met the Lord when I was 18. I attended Bible School for 2 years, worked a year in Inuvik as a parish worker/medical receptionist, off to Manitoba and now was returning to Alberta. Her next question stopped me short, "So what have you been doing lately?" I chuckled, "Do you really want to know?", with of course my accident story fresh in my mind. I told her my story. It didn't need any embellishments, it was a good story, because God wrote it. At the end of it, my friend looked at me seriously and said, "Well, how could I become a Christian?" I think I nearly fell off my seat! What! She wanted Christ! I had always seen her as popular, very pretty, someone other girls wanted to be like. Now she wanted to be a Christian like me! Amazing! So I began presenting her the gospel message, as I had so many times in Inuvik.  Up there, evangelism was a big part of my job, as my boss was both a Pastor and a medical doctor.  I didn't hesitate to tell her about how God loved her so much that he sent Jesus to die on the cross in her place. Her sins were already paid for by His death, and through Christ's resurrection, she could have the assurance of being in Heaven with Him someday and also of His presence in her life now. It was wonderful to share, and not feel ashamed of the gospel! She accepted Christ in her heart, and my hope was that others on that bus also got to hear what we were talking about. I hope someday in heaven, I will meet that 'druggie' who offered me a cigarette and then a joint, maybe others at the accident scene, or the ambulance attendant perhaps. Maybe a nurse will be there, even though we laughed ourselves silly. What I do clearly remember as I got off that bus and into my Dad's waiting car was saying with enthusiasm, "Lord, what are you going to do next?" What started as a car accident turned out to be one of the most exciting times of my life, and I give God all the credit. No one can convince me all these provisions were just 'chance'. As God reminded me of His Word when I hit the ground, "Fear not, for I am with you, be not dismayed, I am your God. I will strengthen  you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my victorious right hand" Isaiah 41:10  Also, "God works all things together for good to them that love God" Romans 8:28   I actually got to see God accomplish these words in my life! And, after a few weeks, I received a cheque in the mail from the insurance company. Funny thing was, the cheque was more than I had paid for the car 10 months earlier and I had driven it many thousands of miles. God is good all the time! Even when things don't seem to go our way!

Still walking

This morning, I decided to walk to church.  Mind you, it was only a block away, so it wasn't much of a walk.  I walked around in church for a bit,  then I saw her.  Laboriously, each step was a struggle.   By her face, she looked to be in her mid forties, but then guessing someones age isn't exactly my speciality.  She had a very pretty face, her make up done nicely, and she was very attractive.   I slowed my walking pace to match hers.  "So, were you in an accident recently?", I enquired.  "Thirty years ago, I was in a car accident".  Thirty years!  She was still using a walker, her leg in a cast.  Or was it a leg brace, maybe it was an artificial leg.  Thirty years!  My mind went back to thirty four years ago....

It had been a great couple of weeks in the Minneapolis area.  Now on my return trip to Edmonton, I had convinced my friend Gloria to accompany me. The second morning of our trip, I was tired.  It was an enjoyable, but long evening around the campfire with friends from CLBI days (the Bible School we had all attended).  Lets face it, I was a night hawk, but often paid the price the next morning.  I had driven a few hours, but the fatigue was wearing on me.  "Gloria, would you mind driving for awhile?" I suggested.  Gloria agreed, although she hadn't  driven my Honda Civic yet, furthermore it was a standard.  We traded places, and both buckled up.

After a few moments, I glanced into the back of my car, which was almost loaded to the roof.  You see, the past few months I had been on one of my adventures....in Manitoba.  Most recently, I was working in two restaurants, cooking and waitressing.  This was my 'in-between' time, the time between working those crazy hours....sometimes around the clock, and returning to Alberta, the province where I was born and raised.  That short time in Manitoba I had moved four times, and did twice that many jobs.  I looked back again, "Yes, I think I'll try it".  I unbuckled myself to turn around and get it.  The accordion had seen many African adventures.  Katherine, a retired missionary now in her eighties, had lugged it around, singing the good old hymns and accompanied herself with this small accordion.  She wanted me to have it!  I was overwhelmed at this thought.  You see, I had applied to go to Kenya as a parish worker with World Mission Prayer League, but it was a long shot at best. I needed more training. For some reason unknown to me, Katherine knew I needed it.  But why? 

"Gloria, I'm going to try out this accordion. Let's sing, okay?"  I chose one of the chords, to see if I could get the hang of this.  It seemed easy, so we started....."Unto Thee O Lord, do I lift up my voice," then Gloria sang the echo.  We continued on, "Oh my God, I trust in Thee...BANG!!!  "What was that!!!  I grabbed for the steering wheel, as the car swerved.  The wheel ripped out of my hand, as I could see Gloria wide eyed and bewildered.  " I don't believe this is happening" flashed through my mind, as  the car swerved first right, sharply left, right again, another time, and this time straight towards the ditch, at a 90 degree angle to the road.  The next realisation was hitting the ground, HARD!  Immediately, His still small voice came, " Fear not, for I am with you, be not dismayed, I am your God.  I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my victorious right hand."  I knew it was the Lord!  I jumped to my feet, and ran to my crumpled car.  "O God, please let Gloria be alive!" my heart cried!

  There she was, feeling her lap, mumbling, searching.  Shattered glass filled the car, and was strewn across her lap. She couldn't find her contacts. The Spirit brought more words of encouragement. "Gloria, God works all things together for good, for those who love Him and are called according to His purpose.  We just need to praise Him."  We lifted our voices to Him in praise and thanksgiving.  Suddenly, we became aware of people around us.  They had seen me fly through the air, the accordion still attached.  "We expected to find dead bodies here,  your car rolled 3 1/2 times", someone volunteered.  Without skipping a beat, I said, "Well if we had died, we would be in a better place right now.  Shucks!", I joked.   A lady looked at me in astonishment.  I don't know if she realised I meant we just about made it to heaven, and it was a bit disappointing we weren't there at the moment!  Another piped up, "It's really sad about your wrecked car", to which I countered, "It's just a thing, the Lord must know I don't need it anymore".  Others were looking through some of the wreckage; the doily I had been beading, my guitar (which didn't have a scratch).  Strangely, even the accordion had just a chip off one of the keys, and still played fine, even though it had broken my windshield, flew through the air at 100 km/hr and hit the ground with me attached.  I have thought so many times of how that praying missionary had likely asked God to use this instrument for His glory.  Little did she know, it would be a human shield, almost certainly the thing that saved my life and kept me from a severe head injury.

People fussed over us, made us lie down and we were covered by one of the blankets from my car.  Several minutes went by of conversation.  It was the most natural thing to talk about the Lord, and how He was caring for us, how I probably didn't need a car when I moved to Edmonton.  A 'hippie' sauntered into the ditch.  "Hey, do you want a smoke?" he offered one of his cigarettes.  I smiled at him, and said "Thanks, I'd probably be sick if I had a cigarette", then he held out a joint!  I knew he was trying his best to be helpful, so I remarked, "God is helping me, thanks, I don't need any drugs".  The conversation continued, and then the man spoke up again.  "So is this your car?" to which I agreed.  I offered more information, "Gloria, who is from the States was driving my car".  "Ohhh", he replied knowingly, "You'd better say you were driving, otherwise you might not get any money from your insurance".  Others around him looked like they agreed.  He suggested that everyone there tell the police that I was the driver.  "But that's not true!"  I stated emphatically!  "And God's not going to honour us if we are lying, so even if I get nothing for my car, I'm not going to lie!  He was rather taken aback, but kept quiet. 

The sound of sirens notified us that the police and ambulance were almost there.  We were loaded on stretchers, (even though I tried to tell them I could walk) and slid into the ambulance.  The drive to Portage la Prairie seemed to go quickly, and I gathered we must have been closer to that town than to Winnipeg.  On the way, an ambulance attendant asked us some questions about our faith.  Many of the things that were said I don't recall, but I just remember we had a conversation about God.  Arriving at the hospital, I was transferred to a bed to be x-rayed.  Amazing as it seems, I only had a sprained ankle.  Gloria had whip lash in her neck.  I was admitted into hospital, as they likely didn't know what to do with us, until we contacted relatives.  The only problem was, my relatives were in Alberta, Gloria's were in the USA.  So there I lay, and there she sat in a chair, wondering what next?