Chosen Before Birth: The Missionary Biography of Ruthie Burt Cornwell
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About this ebook
Called at a young age, Ruthie began a lifelong adventure with God. Her walk in the jungles of Bolivia and Peru was not to be an easy one. While there, she soon learned to pray, trust, and wait on her omnipotent God. Ruthie invites you to join her in the many experiences of her life in Tambo, the Beni, and Tushmo. Meet Mom Jenofsky, Ruthie’s delightful companion; Raul, the neighborhood witch doctor; and many others in Chosen Before Birth.
Ruthie Burt Cornwell
Ruthie Burt Cornwell grew up in eastern Pennsylvania and knew from her early years that she was called to be a missionary. She and her husband George Burt served as missionaries in Bolivia and Peru for more than 30 years. After George’s death, she continued in missionary work in the US and now lives in Alabama with her husband Bob Cornwell.
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Chosen Before Birth - Ruthie Burt Cornwell
Copyright © 2019 Ruthie Burt Cornwell.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This book is a work of non-fiction. Unless otherwise noted, the author and the publisher make no explicit guarantees as to the accuracy of the information contained in this book and in some cases, names of people and places have been altered to protect their privacy.
WestBow Press
A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.westbowpress.com
1 (866) 928-1240
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,
and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
Scripture quotations taken from the New American Standard Bible® (NASB), Copyright © 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation
Used by permission. www.Lockman.org
ISBN: 978-1-9736-6759-9 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-9736-6758-2 (e)
WestBow Press rev. date: 08/13/2019
CONTENTS
Foreword
Preface and Acknowledgements
Chapter 1 Chosen
Chapter 2 Prepared
Chapter 3 Led
Chapter 4 Serving
Chapter 5 Strengthened
Chapter 6 Perseverance
Chapter 7 Endured
My Challenge
FOREWORD
The story you are about to read is of a little girl from a town in Northwestern Pennsylvania who knows that she was destined to be a missionary before she was born. I first knew her as Ruthie Morrow, when she came to our home for one of her first mission assignments, to babysit me and my siblings! Several years later I got to know her as Ruth Burt, who with her husband George, told me and several other young people in our church some amazing stories of mission work in Bolivia and Peru. Finally, I have had the privilege of knowing her as Ruth Cornwell, who with her husband Bob, continues to serve the Lord as a home missionary
to this very day.
Based on my knowledge of Ruth, I can testify that she, like Jeremiah, was set apart
before she was born to be a missionary. As her story reveals, she has been a faithful bearer of the gospel of Jesus Christ everywhere she has lived, resulting in many, many people being born again
of the Spirit (John 3:3-8). Actually, she also helped some of those same people be born the first time, when much to her surprise, Ruth became a medical missionary! You, too, will be surprised and amazed as you read her story.
Dr. Edward Ed
Huntley
I have been privileged to know and consider Ruthie Cornwell as a friend for nearly 30 years. It was my honor to perform the wedding ceremony for her and Bob Cornwell nearly 25 years ago. In addition, I worked alongside them in the construction of two churches in northern Peru located in the villages of Tushmo and San Lorenzo.
Ruthie has had an incredible life ministry, both in South America and the United States. She has been blessed to see many saved as a missionary and healed by the medical practices she has performed as a nurse. She and Bob are loved and are a blessing to all who have been given the opportunity to know them. This was evidenced to me on one trip to Tushmo, Peru, in which I witnessed hundreds who walked for hours to welcome her back to the village.
I think you will be deeply blessed as well as you read this book of her life. It details the many opportunities God has given her to serve as a missionary and nurse. I think you will agree that she will have a great reward in heaven for her faithfulness.
Dr. Byron A. Butch
Lee, ThD, DD, MA
PREFACE AND ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Glory be to the Lord. I would like to acknowledge my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ for His blessed call upon my life. That He chose such as I to be His full-time servant for more than fifty-seven years brings great humbleness to my soul. I still want to do what I can for Him in my aged years. Such a blessing He provided me by allowing me to follow in His footsteps. He and only He deserves praise and honor.
Recognition must be given to George, my wonderful enabler and caring partner in all my efforts to serve God. I thank God for permitting such a godly man to walk by my side through so many years. To the others through the years who gave encouragement and support when much needed, thank you. For all who offered up prayers on George’s and my behalf, I will be always grateful. But the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words; and He who searches the hearts knows what the mind of the Spirit is, because He intercedes for the saints according to the will of God
Romans 8:26-27.
Several individuals of my church, McCalla Bible Church, were used by God to encourage the writing of Chosen Before Birth. May God’s approval for each individual’s contribution be a blessing to each soul. To Tom and Glenda Massengale, Becky Ernest, Clara Jordan, Patsy Smith, Ann Brown, Melissa Smith, Whitney Napier, all who provided assistance in getting the story written, I wish to give a heartfelt thank you.
As I have retold some of my life stories, I am sure that I may have unintentionally recalled things out of order or remembered some details through the fog of many years, but I have done my best to paint a true picture of our experiences as missionaries. Some names have been changed as it is not my intention to bring judgment or shame on anyone mentioned. I hope these experiences will inspire others who may be led to serve the Lord as we were.
Ruth Ruthie
Burt Cornwell
CHAPTER ONE
CHOSEN
"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you,
and before you were born I consecrated you;
I have appointed you a prophet to the nations."
Jeremiah 1:5
Harry John and Bessie Louise Morrow lived with their four children on a small 48-acre farm in northwestern Pennsylvania. The farm was located on Route 5, five miles from the town of Cochranton. On this farm, there was a long lane which ran downhill between two large fields of corn, wheat and potatoes. The lane led lazily down in the direction of an old, somewhat-green house. Due to the passage of time- and hard times at that- it was in desperate need of repair, especially repainting. This the Morrows called home for many years.
Harry Morrow worked as a blacksmith for the WPA- the Works Progress Administration, part of Roosevelt’s New Deal which provided jobs building highways, streets, bridges, parks and other projects. He earned very little income, but he did his very best to subsidize his meager earnings to provide for his growing family. One way he kept the family going was to plant a large garden with plenty of potatoes and vegetables. God blessed his efforts and the Morrow family knew no hunger as others often did during this time.
Harry and Bessie had three boys, Carl, Ed and John, and one girl, Martha. And now they were expecting their fifth child. In Pennsylvania, although the calendar said it was spring, patches of snow and ice remained. Such were the conditions when a tragedy (as some would call it) occurred only three weeks before I was born. The steps at the front of the house were icy and Mom slipped, resulting in a nasty fall and an injured spine. She wondered if the fall had endangered the baby she carried. She was consoled by the fact that she could feel the baby kicking and moving. When I, Ruth Louise Morrow, was born on April 21, 1934, a blood clot covered my entire head. I still bear a large scar as the evidence of our icy ordeal but greater still, of God’s mercy. Years later, Mom told me that even before my birth, she believed that I had been chosen for something special. She said, God has something for you.
I recall a time when I was about four years old that Martha and I were playing on the porches at our house. The house had two porches: one for the living room entrance, the other for the entrance to the kitchen. A wooden plank had been placed over the gap between the two porches to enable passage from one to the other. One summer day, we kids were having a ball, running back and forth between the porches. As usually happens with children, we tired of just going back and forth and sought new excitement. I took an interest in the rain barrel that resided in the gap, between the wooden plank and the house. Moving excitedly to the water-filled barrel, I peered in and saw a little girl looking back at me. Wide-eyed and amazed to find a playmate right there in our rain barrel, I leaned still farther. Suddenly, I lost my balance and fell in headfirst. Gasping for air and frightened, I was ever so glad when I felt two strong, firm hands pulling me upward and out of the barrel. I don’t think I need to say that I was then given to understand that never, never were we kids to play around that barrel. I was sad to lose my new playmate so quickly, but I was very glad to be out of that barrel!
Those porches often proved to be a training ground as well as a gathering place. One summer afternoon, some of us were gathered on the porch. It was hot and there were no air conditioners. Dad was giving Ed and John a baldy haircut.
This was a cut which looked just like it sounds, and it would make my brothers much cooler in the summer heat. As the boys were getting their haircuts, Martha and I were playing with our little iron. It was a real iron, used for ironing clothing, and it was very heavy. For some reason forgotten now, Martha got mad and threw the iron at me. While the boys got haircuts, I got a good size cut just above my right eye. Thankfully, Mom had the skill to care for my eye amidst all the commotion, and Dad had the skill to complete the boys’ haircuts. But this outdoor episode revealed that Dad’s true skill was in delivering a lesson concerning temper. After he had cooled the boys down, he warmed up Martha’s bottom quite well, proving that Dad could qualify as both a heating and an air-conditioning man!
The outdoors offered even more fun for us light-hearted, adventurous kids. We especially enjoyed the barn, playing in the haymow, jumping from the high part to the lower area. There was also a straw mow on the other side of the barn, next to the outside wall. We had great fun crawling through the tunnels we made there. There was a large black walnut tree in the middle of the front yard, and there, Dad had put a swing on a large branch. Many happy hours were spent there, dreaming of wonderful things.
All three of my brothers were very good at making box kites. Every summer, each made his own kite. Give them some paper, cross-sticks, glue, string, a rag to make a tail, and, in a short time, the three of them would have air creations fit for many hours of running to catch air currents for their kites to ride in the warm sun.
Always ready to use their imaginations on lazy summer days, Ed and John decided they wanted a swimming pool. Since there was no Walmart back then, the boys went to work, lugging rocks and sticks and mud to dam up the creek that ran through the pasture. After a lot of time, sweat and hard work, they had themselves a nice swimming hole. We kids often caught minnows at the creek, almost instantly letting them go. It was just the challenge of the catch that we enjoyed. We also liked to catch the crabs that scurried away to hide from us by burrowing deep in the sand. This was our special place for laughter and fun, and I like to think of it as God’s playground created just for us.
We knew how to entertain ourselves, but we also knew the result of disobedience and poor judgment, and we had a healthy respect for authority. We learned not to talk back to our parents, not to be sassy, nor to even complain much. If we did, we knew that punishment would be the outcome. Sometimes green willow switches were used on the bare legs, and, oh, how it would sting! My dad had a razor strap on which he sharpened his straight-edge razor, and it was sometimes used in a way not one of us wanted to face. What a lasting lesson that strap carried with every stroke. Even though we had never heard the words of Colossians 3:20, Children, be obedient to your parents in all things, for this is well-pleasing to the Lord,
we learned to obey!
I learned the strap lesson when my curiosity about the family clock got the best of me. I knew that the clock was hands-off, but overcome by temptation, I turned the hands and changed the time. That may not sound so bad, but having only one clock, it was important for it to be accurate. As Dad laid the strap on my backside, I learned a lesson in obedience, a respect for authority, and the reason the others didn’t want to face that strap. I never wanted to meet with the strap again, and I never did!
Dad, about six feet tall and quiet with red hair, said what he meant and was known for always keeping his word. Everyone who knew him knew that he was an honest man. How proud we kids were to call him our Dad!
Mom was short- only four feet and eleven inches tall- with beautiful, long, dark hair which she wore in a bun at the back of her head, and she made a lovely picture for all of us. We always chose to be near her, playing at her feet when we were small. Like my dad, she meant what she said, and she knew just how to keep a house full of kids well in hand. How grateful I am for my parents and the character they instilled in me!
Mom and Dad created many pleasurable times, giving us special memories during a time which afforded few luxuries. Dad often got down on hands and knees to give us the best