Excerpts of Dr. Gibson's Teaching Mission To Indonesia

It was Sunday night, July 8, 2001, in Manado, Indonesia. A godly woman named Susan could not sleep.
She thought God was urging her to sign up for the two-week course in counseling training that would be taught by a Dr. Gibson from the United States. But she could not see how she and her husband could afford both the $40 tuition for the course and $24 for a new car battery they needed in order to drive to the course.

At that very hour it was Sunday morning where you live. Many of you were gathered together for Christian worship in which you prayed that God would select people for the course that Dr. Gibson would begin teaching Monday morning. Susan told me a week later that she was deeply pleased that she and her husband decided to attend my class together, and the four sermons about family living, which I preached in different churches. She said, "God sent you here. My life has been changed. My husband and I are much closer. Manado needs what you are teaching. When will you return?"

Susan graduated today. I bought her the battery.

I love this work more than anything else I have ever done in my life.

Sunday, July 22, 2001. Tropical paradise island of Bali, Indonesia. One day here enroute home. How best to see something non-tourist?

Found Wheaton College grad ('58) Wendel Karsen and wife Renske. They are here for three months pastoring the English-speaking service at a Protestant church. They invited me to come along with them for church and lunch. We talked our heads off. Both knew my wife in college: "Oh, you mean Ruthie Flesvig, the live wire?"

During the service I introduced myself as a visitor who had just completed two extraordinary weeks teaching Christian counseling in Manado. After the service two persons approached me with interest in the counseling training. One was Sylvia, a native of Manado, event planner by profession, and a person whom others seek out as a listener when they are burdened. She earnestly wants to do this informal counseling better. I told her she is exactly the kind of person whom I am training. On the spot, this bold woman pulled out her cell phone and called Jen Tatuh, the man in Manado who arranged my visit there. Within five minutes they made tentative plans for me and Ruth to offer training next March to Christians in both Manado and Bali!

The second miracle person was Craig, a tennis instructor once ranked #295 in the world on the pro circuit. He took six of us up to where he lives in a mansion with swimming pool on top of a hill overlooking Nusa Dua. One of his elite clients is away for two years and letting Craig live there. Craig offered it to me and Ruth for a week in March when he will be in Singapore.

I spent all day Sunday in paradise doing a non-tourist thing that no one could have planned, except the One to whom you prayed for the kinds of surprises He delights to choreograph.

Terima kasih, Yesus!

Monday, July 23, 2001. Somewhere over the South China Sea enroute to Taipei from Bali, Indonesia. I sit next to a Japanese lady who sullenly answers nothing to my greetings, smiles and apologies as I step over her to reach my window seat. She later tells me she hates Americans.

I sleep most of the three-hour flight. Then, as we approach Taipei, I pull out my Bible and read for 10-15 minutes as is my daily habit. I finish and put the Bible away. The woman speaks in broken English: “You read that book. Are you some kind of special person?”

I think a moment, then answer: “Well, I guess I am. I just spent two weeks teaching things I love, to people who love me and their country, and intend to use my teaching to better their country. I am more full of life than I have ever been. And I am planning to do this again in Costa Rica and Ecuador later this year.”

Costa Rica? She lights up: “I love Costa Rica.” I ask, “¿Habla español?” She rattles off skillful Spanish and we conduct the rest of our conversation in that language.

“You rush too much,” she announces. “You read something, then you write something. You Americans are always in a hurry. You won’t live long.”

I answered, “I know what you mean. I used to rush too much before I had cancer six years. Now that I am past it I am so glad to be alive that I want every moment of my living to count for eternity.”

She looked at me a long time, kind of astounded. I think she decided I was some kind of special person--a joyful survivor. We parted friends.

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