It was December 1998, and I had been in Papua New Guinea as a student missionary with the Goodson family for only a few weeks. We were returning from a supply trip to town. As we turned off the “highway” onto our bush road, the rain resumed, and the already soft road became even softer and more slippery. We began to get stuck more often. Each time, all of us in the back of the truck would pile out and help push the truck out of the mud.

Then we came to a long, straight stretch and got bogged down again. This time, I decided to push from the side of the truck instead of the back, saving myself a shower of mud from the spinning tires. After rocking back and forth a bit, the truck began to move, and I kept hanging on, running alongside to ensure we didn’t get stuck again. Suddenly my foot caught on something and I fell, my knees sliding into the rut only a couple feet in front of the back tires. I had no time to yell, only time for a quick prayer for help. But just as I landed in the rut, the truck came to an abrupt halt. I got up out of the mud and thanked God for saving me. Thinking the truck must be badly stuck again to have stopped so suddenly, I was amazed when it easily started moving forward again. I knelt on the side of the road and thanked God for His protection.

As we get ready to go as missionaries to the Ama, I am reminded that the same God who protected me in the past is able to continue protecting us in the future. We serve an awesome God.

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