If Only One: Miracles in Missions

By Jack Hutchins

Our Lord said, "Go and make disciples of all nations." In 1995, He told me to "go to Kenya, East Africa and make those disciples." What I found was millions of natives needing to hear about Jesus Christ. I thought that I was going to do some great work and maybe even stay and be a career missionary. Boy, was I wrong! I didn't know it then, but when I got back to North Carolina, I realized my future calling. I was to take teams back to Kenya and let the Lord change the lives of not only the natives, but the missionaries themselves, and that's what happened. We've seen thousands ask Jesus into their hearts. Some of whom are over one hundred years old, and some who had never seen a white man or woman, or heard the Word of God. What a feeling to see someone give their life to Jesus so close to eternity.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Sep 16, 2021
• ISBN: 9781639031160

Book preview

cover.jpg

If Only One

Miracles in Missions

Jack Hutchins

Copyright © 2021 by Jack Hutchins

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

The Journey, the Joy, My Jesus

From Nowhere to Jesus

Walking in the Lava Fields of Mtito Andea (Isaiah 40:4)

Through God, Let Us Make a Difference

Sharing Jesus with The Raiders

The Year of Miracles

Enlarging Our Territory (Job 12:23)

Here Am I… Send Me… (Isaiah: 6:8)

Kenya 2015

My Last Hoorah (or so I thought)

Kenya 2019… Back to Awasi… (Psalm 51:12)

Answering the Call to Malaysia

Taking Jesus to the City of Angels

To my wife, Brenda. She has been by my side on many of our mission trips. She has encouraged me when I’m discouraged and stood by me in all the rough times. We have been married for over fifty-three years, and I love her more than ever.

To Scott Dagenhardt, who has helped me immensely over the years in planning many of our mission trips and has been on many of those trips with me as my right-hand man.

To the man who has been our driver and friend for many Kenyan trips, Jocate Oloo. You are great!

To Pastor Peter Agado Agoo, you are a treasure to the Kenyan people and us.

Foreword

I started working with Jack twenty-five years ago when he first came to Kenya. I was the associate to the Volunteers Coordinator for the International Mission Board and the Kenya Baptist Convention.

Jack is very passionate about sharing Jesus in Africa. I have watched Jack bring thousands of students, both in primary, high school and universities to the Lord with the message of Salvation of Jesus Christ. In Jack, I have learned about resiliency. Even when Jack was so sick in his back and had many surgeries, Jack did not give up and kept coming to Kenya to preach the Word. Jack and international missions are synonymous. He will do everything within his power to share Christ, if only one more will listen.

—Shem Okello, Director,

Baptist Volunteers in Missions, Kenya

Then Jesus came into them and said, All authority in heaven and earth has been given to me. Therefore, go and make disciples of all nations; baptizing them in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely, I am with you always, to the very end of the age.

Jesus left His followers with a command to go into all of the world and tell people of His love and sacrifice. These words did not become part of my life until 2003 when I became part of a missionary group going to Kenya, led by Jack Hutchins. I was forty-nine years old. I had accepted Jesus as my personal Savior when I was nine, however, I had never told anyone my story of how I became a Christian. Jack taught me to share Jesus without fear and prepared me for this life changing trip. I saw how faithful Jack was to follow God’s calling, even when there was no money to back the trip up. Jack would say, God has called you to go, and He will provide the means, and God always provided. I saw how Jack would always lead the team to rely on the Holy Spirit to guide us in everything we did and said on this trip, and it was through this that I learned to rely on the Holy Spirit to say the words to the lost.

Because Jack was faithful to God’s calling and led me on my first missionary trip to Kenya, I have had the opportunity on many subsequent trips to Kenya, and many of those came to know Jesus as their personal Savior and made Him Lord of their life. Thanks, Jack.

—Scott Dagenhardt, Team Leader

Chapter 1

The Journey, the Joy, My Jesus

In the Land of the Endless Walk (John 12:35)

My journey started the last several days of March 1995. My pastor mentioned at a Baptist men’s breakfast that he had heard of an exciting crusade to be held around Nairobi, Kenya on June1995. He said it would be the opportunity of a lifetime to go halfway around the world and evangelize a group of people who may never get to hear the wonderful news of Jesus Christ. I didn’t think much about it at the time, but after several days of contemplation and earnest prayer, little did I know how much this would really change my life. I asked Charlie to get more information about the trip. Charlie called the travel agency in Fort Worth, Texas, and asked for more information to be sent to us. The crusade was being handled by the Southern Baptist Foreign Mission Board and the World Mission of Euless, Texas.

We received the packet of information on March 30. As we read the brochure, we found out that everything had to be in to them by April 1. The cost of the entire trip would be $2,975. For the seventeen-day trip. Charlie called the travel agency, and they said they would be willing to extend the deadline for thirty days. I made a commitment to God that day. I would pay for the trip myself if nothing else could be worked out. I immediately put the wheels in motion. I started by making application to get my US passport and getting the necessary inoculations. My passport came back in two weeks. I realized that I was off and running. All of the shots were certainly no fun, but they didn’t kill me either.

At a business meeting, the church voted to assist me in securing the necessary funds for the trip. I started a letter writing campaign to my family and friends outside the church, and Charlie started announcing for special contributions on Sunday mornings. After twenty-five days, we had collected just over $2,000. The church finance committee provided the rest. I believe God had His hand in it from the beginning.

The month of May was filled with much talk and planning the trip. There were final shots to get and shopping for jungle clothes. I bought a cloth sack from my niece who was raising money for her mission trip to Australia. My use of the sack was not yet clear to me yet, but I believe that God had another purpose for it. I thought that I was going to take it to Africa and carry things around, but I thought it appropriate to have as many of the church members sign it and leave it in Kenya as a tribute to our church and the members for all the money and prayers for my trip. Charlie started referring to it as Jack’s sack that ain’t coming back.

The first days of June came and went very fast, and the eleventh was fast approaching. I started packing on Friday the ninth but really got serious on the tenth.

June 11, 1995. Sunday arrived, and my commissioning service was held as the first foreign missionary from Cornerstone Baptist Church. My wife, Brenda, and my daughter, Amy, left our house for the Charlotte International Airport. When we arrived, there were long lines to get my seat assignment and boarding pass. This was the first of long lines and long waits. Anyone who knows me knows how I love to stand in lines—not!

At five-forty, I said goodbye to Brenda and Amy at the boarding gate. This was an emotional time for me. I was a little sad, but my spirit was filled with excitement and anticipation for my upcoming journey. I sat beside Kay Smith from Matthews, NC, who was also going to Kenya. We were both going as emissaries for our respective churches and Jesus Christ. At six-twenty-five, we were off to Kenya with a stop in London. Everything went smooth until I spilled orange juice all over me. We were to arrive in London at 7:00 a.m. We flew up the East Coast of the United States, over Newfoundland and over the British Isles into Gatwick Airport in London.

June 12, 1995. We arrived on time and had to claim our bags and transfer them to a truck for transport to Heathrow International. We boarded a bus for the forty-five-minute drive. When we arrived at Heathrow, several of us were going to get a cup of coffee and a Danish roll. When we got to the cashier, he said it would be $9. I politely said, Are you crazy? and declined the food.

We had to check in at Kenyan Air for our seat assignments. Another long line of 120 or so. After check-in, several of us boarded The Tube for London. The Tube is a subway/railway that goes from Heathrow to Piccadilly Circus in downtown London. Piccadilly Circus is a large roundabout with a huge statue in the center where traffic surrounds it. We boarded one of those red double-decker buses for a one-and-half-hour tour of London. We took many pictures. We saw the Parliament Building, the Tower of London, Big Ben, the House of Commons, Windsor Castle, Buckingham Palace, Westminster Abbey, and many more sights. I thought to myself that London was a beautiful dirty town. The buildings and architecture were beautiful, but almost everything is covered in black soot from the pollution in the air.

When we arrived back at Heathrow, I was starving. We found a Burger King, and I had a Whopper Meal Deal. The cost: $5.90 in American currency. The taste: I’ve had much worse in America. It was a big price, but it did fill a huge empty place in my stomach.

At 6:40 p.m., we boarded Kenya Air. I sat beside a student going home to Kenya for the summer (or winter in Kenya). Our flight path took us over Switzerland, the Swiss Alps, France, and Italy. There was a full moon over Italy. It was spectacular. We landed in Italy but could not get off the plane. We took off for Kenya at 10:00 p.m. At 5:30 a.m., I saw my first Kenyan dawn. I saw my first Kenyan sunrise. It was beautiful. Mt. Kenya was in the foreground, and it was gorgeous as well.

June 13, 1995. At six-fifty-five, we landed in Nairobi. Still, there were long lines to get our passports checked and claim our luggage.

At eight-thirty, we headed out for Thika, Kenya. Our van driver’s name was Hemed (pronounced Him-Ed). Thika is a town (village) about sixty kilometers (forty miles) north of Nairobi. During our drive, it was really a culture shock. Thousands upon thousands of people walking and riding bicycles. Thousands more were driving cars, vans, and scooters. The air was thick with diesel fumes. It almost made me sick. A dark black cloud hung over the city like death waiting to fall. We saw hundreds of people in a park cutting grass with sling blades. We were told later that they were cutting long grass to feed cattle. On our way to Thika, I saw thousands and thousands of block shanties. I thought for sure they were empty. They were about fifteen by fifteen with tin roofs or thatch roofs. There were windows, but with no glass or curtains. But around these shanties were thousands of people. The shanties were, indeed, homes and dukas (businesses). On the other side of the road were people selling everything, from bananas to used clothing and shoes.

Our ride to Blue Post Hotel took about an hour. As we arrived, I saw a six-by-four-foot sign announcing the hotel. At first, I thought it was an advertisement for Coca-Cola, since their logo was very prominent. The Blue Post Hotel was very African-looking on the outside with large thatched roofs and wood posts for the building siding. I was assigned room 111 with Dennis Rasche form Tennessee. I was very impressed as we walked around the hotel grounds to get to our room. A very impressive waterfall called Chania Falls was about 150 yards away. There were 100-foot pine trees around the hotel. Next came an awakening for me. Now as I inserted the skeleton key into the lock and entered the room, it was if we suddenly left 1995 and stepped back into the 1920s or ’30s. Our room was about twelve by twelve with two small-sized beds. A single sixty-watt bulb hung on a cord from the ceiling. A large white mosquito net hung above the bed; our bathroom was about four by five. There was a single ten-watt fluorescent light over the small mirror. Our shower was a two by two space with a curtain that did not reach the floor. I later found out that we really didn’t need a curtain because the shower should have been called a trickle. Our closet was about two feet square with three small drawers and six homemade hangers. They had given us one towel for us, but after the first day, we requested and got two towels.

At 4:00 p.m., we met with Clay Coursey and Jill Branyon. Clay was the missionary for the Melindy area on the coast, and Jill was the missionary for Nyeri. She was also the head teacher for Nyeri Secondary School. Jill was to stay with us over the next two weeks. Because not enough people had come over as expected, our three to four person teams had to be split up. Now there were going to be two-person teams. I was assigned to be the pastor. That meant that I would have to preach and lead church services. Oh! Heaven help that church. My teammate was to be Dixie Derr.

At seven-thirty, we had dinner, consisting of some sort of roast fowl, funny-looking green beans, and some potatoes. We also had the ever-present pineapple. After dinner, we discussed team assignments. It was decided I would go with John Ewart from Oklahoma. The reason for this was because Dixie or I had ever been a mission trip. At nine, I went to bed for the first time since Saturday night. It seemed that Dennis wasn’t a fan of my snoring. I promise, this was the first time that I had ever snored. He requested another room and got it for three nights.

June 14, 1995. At 6:45 a.m., my watch alarm sounded much too early since I had not slept in days, but I got up anyway. We had breakfast at seven thirty consisting of scrambled eggs, beef sausage, and fatty bacon. We had some toast, passion fruit juice, coffee, and the ever-present pineapple. The eggs were runny, and the sausage had a casing that would not cut easy. The bacon looked like the cook had just waved it over the pan and served it. Now the coffee was another story altogether! About half the cup was filled with a thick dark liquid, and the other half was filled with milk. The mixture was so thick, my spoon almost stood up in the cup. Didn’t taste like any coffee I ever had.

Well, anyway, I survived my first Kenyan breakfast. We met in the parking lot at eight fifteen. We were given our assignments and were off to the mountains. We traveled for about forty-five minutes over some of the worst roads I had ever been on. In our van was four teams of two. We dropped off the husband-and-wife team, Dennis and Marsha, at a building that we all thought was the church where they would be working. It was a block building about 20 × 40, a very good size for a church. Later in the week, we found out that it was a local house of prostitution, and the church was a little hut behind the larger building. We dropped off Tommy and Dixie at a large church named Karange (Ku-rang-gu) Baptist Church. We then dropped off Jim and Ron. Their church was a small block building on the side of a hill. Finally, after one and a half hours of riding, we made it to Mucuria (Muu-cuuria-ah) Baptist Church. It sat on top of a mountain and was visible from everywhere around. We met the pastor, Elius Ndorge, and our interpreters, Laban Mwongi (M-wong-i). The church itself was a large block building. They had several rooms that were used for Sunday school, but most everything was held in the sanctuary. We had a short service of singing, scripture reading, and prayer. We were off for our first day of walking message.

There were literally hundreds and hundreds of people walking small dirt paths. We would stop and shake everyone’s hands, from one-year-old snot-nose kids. Everyone wanted to shake our hands. What a wonderful idea to stop and meet your neighbor. This is a sign of respect by the Kenyan people. If we couldn’t get to someone to shake their hand because they were working in their chomba (farm), we would wave, and they would wave back.

At the first house we went to, we witnessed to the unsaved husband of one of Makuria’s church members. We talked for about ten minutes, and he accepted Jesus. We were off and running. At the next house (when I say house, it’s usually a small mud hut with a thatched roof) we went to, there was a Christian couple. One of their sons had been sick for a long time with what appeared to be malaria. We prayed for him and witnessed to him and his two brothers. All three prayed to ask Jesus into their hearts. We spent the rest of the day walking and talking as we made our way back to the church. We were picked up at four for the ride back to the Blue Post.

The next day, we met with several former pastors and several elders in Mucuria and had a short service there. We then went to the home of our pastor’s neighbor. There we were going to have a cottage (hut) prayer meeting. There were fifty to sixty people who had gathered. John and I were seated under the overhang of one of the huts along with Pastor Elius and Laban. This was done to keep the guests (us) from sitting in the sun. Note that we were on the equator, and the sun is especially intense. All the others, both young and old, sat or stood in the open. I gave my testimony and spoke for about ten minutes, and John preached a salvation message. The people sang many songs. We stayed until twelve fifteen. On our way back to the church, we stopped off at the pastor’s son’s home. He was not there, so we talked to his wife. When we arrived in the area of the church, we stopped at a local hotel’ (pronounced hotel-ee). The hotel’ is not a hotel but a local watering hole where chai (hot tea with milk and sugar) is served, along with fried eggs, bread, and several mystery foods are served. John and I chose not to partake because of the sanitary conditions. They really don’t wash the utensils but rather rinse them off in semiclean water. Anyway, we ordered bottled Sprite from the small market across the street. We would do every day for the first week. Pastor Elius had to stop there every day to eat and drink chai. After the hotel’, we would go back to the church for a question-and-answer session. Mostly they wanted to know how we handled problems in our churches. John did most of the talking since my church didn’t have any problems. Some of the church members arrived and wanted to know about America. They gave their testimonies and sang for us. We departed at four.

June 16, 1995. We were to be dropped off first, so we took a different route. I thought before that we had been on the roughest roads in the world for the first couple of days, but what we had traveled on those first days were like paved roads compared to the route we took, for the next few days were absolutely horrible. We arrived at Mucuria at nine forty-five, and after checking to see if all my body parts were still there, we went into the church. There were about forty to fifty members there. We held a service and I, again, gave my testimony and spoke and read scripture about how to be a good church member and the need to witness for Jesus. We had another question-and-answer session and more singing and testimonies. Church members in Kenya are quick and willing to give their testimonies. Most everything they do in the church is preceded by singing and testimonies of how they were saved and how proud they are to be a child of God.

At one thirty, we retired to the hotel’ for lunch. I had broken cookies and crumbs that I had been carrying in my fanny pack, and to old faithful Sprite. I found out that the Sprite’s cost was twenty-two cents. At two thirty, we started an open-air meeting in a vacant lot where a local cow had been grazing. We had to sit right next to where that cow had deposited a large quantity of cow doo, and all the flies from miles around came to have lunch. Our seats were very comfortable rocks. Pastor Elius spoke, and we sang, and testimonies were given by several church members. I read from the Scriptures and preached for about fifteen minutes about the need for Christ. John preached for about twenty minutes. There were thirty to forty people listening from the road and in their dukas along the village road. One person came forward and gave his heart to Jesus. The church ladies sang for another thirty minutes. We departed at four thirty.

June 17, 1995. We arrived at Mucuria at ten, had a short service, and hit the trail and I do mean trail. We stopped at a home of someone the pastor knew and had been witnessing to for some time. I took the lead and explained the plan of salvation to the woman. John then spoke, and Laban spoke in Kikuyu (their version of Swahili). The woman accepted Christ. After the short visit, we prayed for her, and we left. We then walked about a mile or so and stopped at the home of a church member and her husband, who had not been attending church. He showed us his chomba and his tea plants. The man used to be a preacher and had helped found Mucuria but had become inactive and drifted away from God. He invited us into his home. It was a mud hut with a tin roof. Inside