Who could ever forget the little red Cessna 185? She meant so much to us young missionaries in Papua New Guinea in the late 70’s as we worked in the high mountains and along the rivers running through the swamps of the hot steamy low lands. Just the thrill of having our own plane puffed a bit of pride and the thought of having an airstrip in the area we worked coming right up to our back door caused excitement as well, to say the least.
Many of our missionary kids dreamed of flying a mission plane and my young son Wes talked much of being a coffee drinking mission pilot one day. The sound of the little Cessna 185 riding the wind headed our way will always be a sweet memory even if we had to wait for hours; it was our ride to the outside world. The plane and the pilot brought much more than food supplies. In many ways the pilot was like a minister to us as he encouraged us and many times shared thoughts from the Word. He fed us with information from the outside world that seemed so far away at times.
In many ways the little plane became somewhat of a security blanket to me when I was making the long canoe rides up and down the mighty Sepik River. If the pilot knew we were somewhere out there on the lonely river he would make sure his flight plan was somewhere near the area we would be running. We were a team coming together in those days to get the job done. Now, today thanks to all who prayed then and now the team is still moving forward reaching the unreached in many areas. We have nice planes and good pilots please pray for more men and women to fill the gaps as we move forward to that last tribe. Labourer, Jesus said pray for you so that I do. Jack