Managing Interruptions with Moments of Intercession

Preview Text for Chapter One, pages 9 and 10

Two years after being saved, I journeyed to Waxahachie, Texas to attend Southwestern Bible Institute. There I was exposed to a whole new set of circumstances, especially to the thrill of missions. My world began to expand as I studied and heard speakers tell about the regions beyond. On Mission Day each Wednesday, I attended the morning and noon prayer meetings. I went to the chapel early in the morning to pray for those who were on my missions prayer list. Those were not long, extended prayer sessions, but moments of intense focus as we called out names of missionaries and the countries where they worked. From those prayer experiences, I wrote the poem, “Traveling on My Knees.”

As I struggled to rise early week after week to be in the prayer meetings, I felt keenly that one day I might be on the mission field somewhere and need urgent prayer. Much to my surprise and somewhat dismay, that’s exactly what happened. Eventually I took a trip to Africa, a land far across the seas.

During my Bible training, I became engaged to a fine young man . Sid Goodwin had grown up in West Africa and felt a call to minister in that area. We married, graduated from Bible College and went to Ghana, West Africa, as missionaries. At the time we arrived in Africa, we had a darling blond-headed three-year-old daughter named Gwenda.

Little did we know what a short span Sid’s missionary career would cover. Just six weeks after arriving for our first term, we confronted the task of burying Sid on African soil. A tragic accident occurred at our Christmas Eve service. We had traveled to the village of Tili in far Northern Ghana where Africans had gathered by the hundreds to welcome the missionary kid who had grown up there and was now returning with his wife and child. Sid was severely burned when a portable generator which had been placed on our pickup tailgate suddenly exploded. He and a Ghanaian were trying to adjust the lighting for the event. Sid was the only one trapped in the camper which covered the pickup bed.

Extensive burns held him at death’s door for one week while national Christians and missionaries cried out to God for his healing. Sid’s passing on January 1, 1963, truly overwhelmed everyone and confronted us with serious questions about the sovereignty of God. Our lives were traumatically interrupted, but we knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that God was in charge of it all. We determined to abide in the peace of God which Sid had exemplified throughout the whole ordeal.

During those difficult days, I learned firsthand how powerful and far-reaching intercessory prayer can be I felt the confirmation of what I had written earlier about traveling on my knees; that prayer knows neither geographical boundaries nor chronological restrictions. I felt strongly the reciprocal prayers of Southwestern students and others who took time to pray for a missionary in need. How long each one prayed for me was not a consideration at that time.

What I did consider, however, was that someone took powerful moments and directed prayer to God for me and my family.

Twenty years as a widow and single parent presented many opportunities for me to continue the development of my personal devotion in prayer and moments of intercession for others. My growing daughter kept me close to the Lord as I grappled daily with parental decisions and desires for the best life I could provide for her.