Jonathan Goforth-Rejects and Hidden

By Mary Vee
Year: December 1900

Jonathan Goforth-41 years old

Jonathan Goforth's Journal

My name is Jonathan Goforth. My wife, Rosalind and I are missionaries in China. 

I am tired. Completely exhausted.

Twelve other missionaries and my family have been on the run for days. We can't seem to escape the violence started by the Boxer Rebellion. Even the queen ordered all foreigners to be killed in the southern areas.

We had no place to hide. 

On every corner, around each bend, and over every hill villagers threw rocks and sticks at us, stabbed knives and swords at us. I could barely walk. My one arm couldn't be used and I had a gaping wound on the back of my head. Our group had suffered terrible injuries. Some of our missionaries were critically injured. 

We left our compound in northern China before the violence got out of control. The only port large enough to dock a boat able to sail far enough to get us out of the country was in Shanghai, which was located in southern China. 

Between our compound and Shanghai, there was a river where we could hire a boat to take us to Shanghai. The river, though was many days journey away by ox and cart.

The last several posts I've told about the beatings we've endured. During one attack my son and a man from our group were separated from us. I don't know where they are. Those who helped us said we should keep going. They would look for my son and help him meet with us later. 

There were many stories to tell about the journey to the river. Basically all the same. Villagers attacked. One or two had compassion and rescued us. We continued the journey in pain until attacked again. At last we reached the river. The Chinese who said they would help find my son did as they said. I couldn't believe my eyes when he and the man from our group met us shortly before we reached the river. 

A captain agreed to take us part of the way to Shanghai. I paid him his fee. He order us to go below deck and stay hidden down there. He guided the ship down the center of the water lane. The Chinese along the river banks didn't know he had us on board. He was left alone.

We reached the destination the captain had promised. The harbor people would let him dock the boat, though. They yelled at him to keep going. 

He had no choice. He ordered the deck hands to steer toward the center of the river and kept sailing. Although it wasn't in his plan, he ended up taking us all the way to Shanghai. God clearly had a plan to see us safely to Shanghai.

I paid the captain more money for the extra distance.

At last, we were in Shanghai. I and the others had been missionaries in the villages in the north for twelve years. My my. Shanghai had changed a lot since I was there. But that was another story.



Praise God, I am alive and have another story to tell.



There is more to this story. Come back next time.

Jonathan has many stories to share. Come back each Monday to find out what happened next.



Resources Used for This Series
Being, Janet, and Geoff Benge. Jonathan Goforth: An Open Door in China. Seattle. WA: YWAM Pub., 2001.Print
Doyle, G. Wright. Builders of the Chinese Church: Pioneer Protestant Missionaries and Chinese Church Leaders. Eugene Oregon: Pickwick Pub, 2015. Print.
Goforth, Jonathan, and Rosaline Goforth, Miracle Lives of China, London" Marshall, Morgan & Scott, 1931, Print.
Goforth, Jonathan. "By My Spirit" Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1942. Print
Goforth, Rosalind. Climbing; Memories of a Missionary's Wife. Chicago: Moody Pub, n.d. Print
Goforth, Rosalind, How I Know God Answers Prayers; The Personal Testimony of One Life-time, New York: Harper & Brothers, 1921. Print
Goforth, Rosalind. Jonathan Goforth. Minneapolis, MN: Bethan House, 1986. Print
Goforth, Rosalind, How God Answers Prayer: The Mighty Miracles of God from the Mission Field of Jonathan Goforth. USA: Revival, 2016. Print Original copyright not stated.
Jackson, Dave, and Neta Jackson. Mask of the Wolf Boy: Minneapolis, MN: Bethany House, 1999. Print.
McCleary, Walter. An Hour with Jonathan Goforth: A Biography. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1938. Print.
Meloche, Renee Taft., and Bryan Pollard. Jonathan Goforth: Never Give up. Seattle, WA: YWAM, 2004. Print.

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Thrown Off the Train-Gladys Aylward

By Mary Vee

Missionary Mondays 

Gladys Aylward's thoughts...

Well, this wasn't a problem I expected to deal with at all. 

photo courtesy of visualbiblealive.com

I watched the train pull away from the station without me.  

The conductor didn't escort me off the train, as a lady should be treated. Oh, no no no. He nearly pushed me down the stairs while jabbering something in Russian with a blasting voice. I think his message could have been translated, "What kind of a crazy person are you? Women can't ride on a train with Russian soldiers."  Well, perhaps his message might have been a teensey-bit meaner.

A ghost town would have had more people.  

A cow mooed from somewhere off to my right. A few chickens clucked from the barn on the other side of the tracks. I tried to open the station door, but it was locked.  

My only choice: drag my belongings back to the last train station to board another train, this time without Russian soldiers. I might have walked the 30 miles in 8 hours, but carrying my kettle, bedroll, cans of food, and the few pounds I had left, made it difficult. I heard sounds of war not far away. God will protect me. My kettle and the few cans of food clanked loud enough to wake a dead animal. At least it seemed like it. I kept a sharp eye for soldiers.

I didn't want to sleep on the side of the road. Perhaps a thief or soldier might come to harm me., Instead I continued trudging through the snow and cold back toward the last train station. After walking quite a ways, the freezing wind wouldn't let me take another step. I used my things to protect me until the wind calmed then continued walking.

Perhaps I should have studied a few Russian phrases before leaving England. It seemed wise at the time to spend every free moment studying Chinese and the culture. But how could I have known I'd be thrown off a train in the middle of Russia? I remained confident God would take care of me.

To pass the time and keep my mind off the cold, I hummed a few church tunes, and said few Bible verses to the beat of my steps.

I arrived at the train station in the middle of the night and was thankful to find a bench for sleeping. The next morning I boarded another Trans Siberian train to China.

The rest of the trip across Russia to the last train station in a city called Vladivostok kept the passengers ducking low from gunfire and other war activity. I must admit, the Vladivostok city sign brought a tear of happiness.  

Vladivostok
photo courtesy by verbaska Morguefile.com

I booked a night in a hotel and planned to board the train to China in the morning. After supper, an Russian investigator knocked on the door. He asked me for my passport. I gladly handed it to him and watched his face.  His eyebrows lowered. "Miss you are machinist?"  

He must not understand the English words, I thought. "No, I'm a missionary."

He pulled my passport further away from me. "No you will be machinist in Russia."

I realized he planned to keep my passport. If he did, I might never get it back. The inspector stood alone at the door. I snatched my passport from his hand, push past him, and ran as fast as I could out of the hotel.

There I stood, a block away wondering what to do. The train station would be guarded. China stood only a short distance away, but the guards wouldn't let me walk across the border. Would I be trapped in Russia?

I'll tell you more next week.

Gladys

Escape from Egypt

By Mary Vee
Exodus 2:15-

“Moses.  Moses where are you?  You can't hide forever.  There isn't a place in all of Egypt to hide. We're going to find you.”

Another guard.  I ducked behind a pile of garbage.  How am I going to get out of this mess?  I can’t hide in the shadows for long.  Those guards will kill me.  If only I hadn’t killed that taskmaster.

Two women walked by me with fresh meat from the marketplace.  That’s right.  I haven’t eaten since breakfast yesterday.  I looked around the garbage and found a piece of bread to choke down. 

One woman put her hand close to her face. “Did you hear Moses killed a taskmaster?”

The other woman laughed.  “I’ll bet Pharaoh’s daughter is mad.  Can you imagine having a son who is a murderer?”

“I heard Pharaoh sent soldiers to find him—and kill him on site.”

The women walked further away where I couldn’t hear any more.  I scoured the garbage for food to stuff in my pouch and threw everything but my clothing away.  Underneath a pile of fish bones, I found a torn piece of cloth and wrapped it around my head.   The smell made my eyes tear.

A group of people walked away from a market booth up the road.  I ran to catch up to them hoping to blend in and escape.  One person turned and scowled at me, the others continued to chatting. They turned a few corners and fortunately headed toward the eastern gate of the city. 

As they turned down the last street, a group of foreigners walked toward the gate to leave the city.  I stepped close enough to make others think I belonged to the group and walked right out the city gate.

I had no clue where to go.  I followed the group until they turned to the north. 

I’d never been alone before. 

What will I eat?  I’m hungry.  I can't eat sand.

Where will I sleep?  I’m sleepy.  Bugs and snakes will crawl on me if I lay on the ground.

What will I do?  I’m lost. I have no plan. My whole life is in Egypt.

Who will be my friend?  I’m lonely. Everyone I know is back at the palace.

I walked for days toward the morning sun.  I found wild berries and figs.  Somehow I always found a well to get water.  Perhaps someone--somewhere is helping me.

*****

Since Moses had been raised in the palace with Pharaoh’s family, he probably didn’t know about the Hebrew God.  This part of Moses’ life shows how God takes cares of us even when we  don’t realize it.  How do you think Moses escape without being caught by Pharaoh’s trained soldiers?  Moses was a city kid, how did he know what to do to survive away from the city?  Why didn’t Moses get hurt while walking in the desert?