God's Hand Is Not Short

By Betty Carpenter

During our twenty-six years in Liberia, West Africa, we often heard the phrase “But my hand is short” in response to a plea for money or help of any kind. This was a common response to a request that one was unwilling or unable to grant. Throughout our lives, and especially the years in Liberia, we have been shown repeatedly that God’s hand is not short. This book of shared experiences is our testimony that God’s hand is not short.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Sep 5, 2023
• ISBN: 9798887517759

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God's Hand Is Not Short

Betty Carpenter

ISBN 979-8-88751-774-2 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-88751-775-9 (digital)

Copyright © 2023 by Betty Carpenter

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

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

In memory of John Mark Carpenter and Benjamin Mark Carpenter.

In honor of Betty Carpenter.

1

Introduction

2

Getting There

3

Spying out the Land

4

Sinoe-Bound

5

You Have to Start Somewhere

6

Building Our House

7

Who Will Go for Me?

8

Training the Leadership

9

Hearing the Jesus Story for the First Time

10

Trying to Live Like an American in the Jungle

11

In the Presence of Witchcraft

12

Sometimes You Need a Helping Hand

13

To the Ends of the Earth

14

Rescued from a Leopard

15

All Backyards Are Not the Same

16

All Work and No Play… Is Not a Good Idea

17

The Carpenter Zoo

(Kim and John Mark)

18

Air Travel in Liberia

19

Against Their Advice Again

20

Highway Hazards

21

Church Planting

22

When You Need It Most, God's Hand Is There

23

Second Time Around

24

Fatigue and Fulfillment

25

The Ravages of War

Acknowledgements

About the Author

In memory of John Mark Carpenter and Benjamin Mark Carpenter.

In honor of Betty Carpenter.

1

Introduction

God's hand is not short!

In Isaiah 59:1, we read, Surely the arm of the Lord is not too short to save, nor his ear too dull to hear.

During our twenty-six years in Liberia, West Africa, we often heard the phrase But my hand is short in response to a plea for money or help of any kind. This was a common response to a request that one was unwilling or unable to grant. Throughout our lives, and especially the years in Liberia, we have been shown repeatedly that God's hand is not short.

Before Betty and I married on July 26, 1949, while we were students at Truett-McConnell Junior College, we openly talked of the possibility that one day we might experience a call from God to serve him overseas. We both felt a willingness to go wherever God called, but we wanted to be certain of that call.

After moving to Sylvania, Georgia, with our three children, Mark, Nancy, and Kim, where I served as pastor of First Baptist Church, it became my responsibility to direct a World Mission Conference of our local Baptist association. One night, it was my privilege to deliver missionary Coleman Clark from Japan back to his hotel after the evening service. We were deeply engrossed in conversation when we arrived at his hotel, and he made no attempt to transfer from the car to the sidewalk. I was so tired, and my gas was so low I had to cut the engine. Finally, he asked a very pointed question. John Mark, when God called you to preach, did he call you to preach only in Georgia?

My answer was No, and he said, Then you have to consider the possibility that he wants you to serve him elsewhere in the world.

That challenging exchange was still in our minds when Betty and I attended Foreign Mission night at the Southern Baptist Convention with Dr. Baker James Cauthen leading. The service was an on-your-knees, silent prayer service. During this spiritually dynamic hour, we both sensed God speaking to us. As we left the service, one of us looked at the other and said, I bet you don't know what happened to me tonight.

The answer was Yes, I do because it happened to me. God had let us both know it was time to seek an appointment with the Southern Baptist Mission Board.

We returned to our Sylvania home with a lot of heavy things on our minds. As we parked the car and prepared to go into the house, the telephone was ringing. It was a call from Oakland Baptist Church near Bowling Green, Kentucky. When the church called me to be their pastor, it put me within traveling distance to the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Louisville, Kentucky; and at the conclusion of three years, with diploma in hand, we were eligible to seek appointment with the Mission Board.

During the same time frame, Mother Eliza Davis George was in contact with the International Mission Board, seeking their help in keeping her work alive. Mother George had gone to Liberia as a single lady in 1914, sent out by a Baptist Convention. She was never blessed with consistent and/or adequate support. Then her convention came and forcibly retired her at age sixty-five. Her support from individuals had dwindled over the years, and she needed help desperately. We were sent to give assistance to her and her ministry. Also Dr. William R. Tolbert, president of the Liberia Baptist Missionary and Educational Convention, was appealing to the Mission Board to consider helping with the work in Liberia.

The following shared experiences are our testimony that God's hand is not short.

2

Getting There

A nd surely, I am with you.

—Mathew 28:20

Christmas is Christmas. The meaning is the same the world over. A palm tree does not make a traditional Christmas tree for a north Georgian family, but it works. There was a store in Monrovia that provided toys for our eleven-year-old son, Mark; nine-year-old, Nancy; and six-year-old, Kimberly. Mark remembers the bicycle made in Czechoslovakia, probably made for a working man. They were not without toys on Christmas morning. When the children got tired of their Christmas gifts, we decided to go down to a nearby village, never imagining what a special walk this would be.

As we entered the village, we were met by one of the elders. He welcomed us to his village. We sat down for a visit in the yard on stools made from tree trunks. We would have been extremely rude if we had not done so. In his one-one English, he offered to walk with us through the jungle. With his machete or cutlass (as we call it) he joined our party. What a lesson we had. As we walked, he began to point out certain plants, leaves, roots, barks, and herbs that were used for medical purposes. We came upon a beautiful white lily. He gently cut it, and then as he turned it upside down, two or three crystal-clear drops of water fell into his eyes.

In some way, it all seemed like a dream until we became so hot. We needed to get used to it because we had come to stay.

This Christmas Day of 1961, I was glad to have my feet on solid ground since I could not get over Hurricane Carla as long as we were at sea. Kids, you must remember that trip well. We had certainly sensed God's presence as we worked to prepare ourselves for the ministry in Liberia, West Africa. It was nothing short of miraculous to see how all the pieces finally were in place for our appointment to serve in Liberia with the Foreign Mission Board of the Southern Baptist Convention. We had to be debt-free, pass a thorough physical examination, pass the scrutiny of the personnel committee of the Foreign Mission Board, and measure up to the doctrinal standard of Southern Baptists. John had to have a minimum of three years of pastoral experience and be a seminary graduate in order to be appointed to serve anywhere in the world. Having met the criteria of the Foreign Mission Board (now International Mission Board), we were appointed in April 1961 to serve in Liberia. After this, we were in an orientation at Mars Hills University in North Carolina.

Then came the painful experience of packing furniture and supplies we would need for the next several years. We had to dispose of some things we couldn't take with us, and there were some things we put in storage. All of our goods were packed in wooden crates for the long journey by ocean freight.

Finally, we arrived in New Orleans in September, ready to board the ship headed for Liberia. A pattern for the rest of our lives in another culture was set: waiting! As it turned out, the ship we were to board was in dry dock, and we would have to wait ten days for a backup vessel to be ready. We chose not to go back home and wait and then have to say goodbye again; one goodbye was enough for all of us. So we five stayed in a hotel room until the ship was ready to board.

During this miserable waiting, we did have the blessing of friends and family who had journeyed with us to New Orleans to see us off. Because of the delay, some could not stay, but we also had some friends at New Orleans Baptist Seminary who helped us endure the long wait.

Betty

September 6, 1961

The long-awaited day had arrived. After many delays and much suspense, we finally made a thirty-mile trip out into the country to Braithwaite to board the Del Mundo. We had been delayed for almost ten days in New Orleans. Our departure was a great deal different from what we had envisioned. There was no road from the highway, and so we wound behind a tavern up a levee of the Mississippi and saw what was to be our abode for the next nineteen days. They had loaded five cars of dynamite, and that was the reason we had to go so far to load. Having spent ten days with five people in two rooms in the Mont de Leon, the thirty-five-mile trip in a limousine made us glad to board the ship even with its load. Since the ship was carrying five carloads of dynamite, tanks or oxygen, and other explosives on board, we had to sign a waiver absolving the shipping line of any liability in case of a disaster at sea.

Bob and Betty Thompson were there to see us get on the ship, but because of naval restrictions, they could only take pictures of us as we came down the levee with hatboxes, holding tea sets, clothes on hangers, cameras, dirty clothes bags, etc.

At about six thirty, we left the levee and realized we were on our way. None of us knew that we would have to travel over one hundred miles before we would be in the Gulf. We thought we were on our way, but we had to anchor in the Delta.

September 7

After a very restful night, we arose anxious to see the Mississippi Delta. We also thought we would soon be on our way in the Gulf. At breakfast, one of the stewards told us to take it easy, that this big hunk of iron ain't going anywhere. We soon discovered why. Hurricane Carla was headed for the Louisiana coast. So we sat in the waters of the Mississippi Delta. Before dark, another freighter had anchored behind us.

September 8

This morning, we awoke to find that during the night, four other ships had anchored. It didn't take us long to sense that the entire crew was very anxious and tense. We were standing on the deck outside our staterooms, and Nancy started to whistle. The skipper (captain) came bounding around the corner and asked, Who's whistling? Sing, dance, holler, but don't whistle. Whistling on a ship brings on an ill wind. And it did!

The steward came up to our rooms at about ten forty-five and told us, Carla is heading for the Mississippi, and we are going to make a break for it. The Mississippi did not give enough anchorage for the ship, and if we did get the effects of Carla, the ship would be blown up on the mudflats. At exactly eleven twenty, we pulled into the mainstream of the Mississippi and headed for the Gulf. As the Gulf came into sight, the water was very rough, and some worried passengers were added to the list of tense crew.

Just before we lifted anchor, the head maintenance man came by to tell us to put on leather-bottomed shoes, and he did not like us venturing out one bit. That really helped with our anxiety. Friday night saw us really initiated into sea life. We had watched the crew tie everything down and push everything loose overboard, and we soon knew why. We began to rock and roll.

September 9

The day was gray, and we were all so sick—the adults worse than the children.