Vietnam

17 November 2019

Dear Phyllis,

This is an old story. I have written to you about this testimony before but last week the Lord reminded me of an incident that is directly connected that I had not thought of before.

In my early days working with providing Bibles to believers in Vietnam, I was on a trip with a group of Mennonites carrying Bibles into Hanoi. The run into Hanoi was successful. We deposited our Bibles at a safe half-way house and the Mennonites flew back to Chiang Mai. I was low budget and wanted to see Laos again. I opted to go overland by bus to get home. There is the main highway running north and south connecting Hanoi to Saigon. Very close to what was the DMZ there is a town of Dong Ha where I could take a bus to Laos. I took a night bus headed south and got to Dong Ha early afternoon, but the bus to Laos wasn't until the next day. That meant I had to wait over 24 hours. Dong Ha is only about 60 km from Hue where I had some friends that I had met on a previous visit. Why not go see them? Naka naka there wasn't a bike shop in that town but I did find a college boy who said he would rent me his Honda to go to Hue. Oh me, it was a piece of junk but he assured me he road it every day to Hue and there would be no problem. It was about an hour ride to Hue and I had a great time with my friends, but I wanted to get back to Dong Ha before it got too dark. I got about 10 km north of town when the bike gave up the ghost. Fortunately I was right in front of a bile repair shop who said he could fix it but couldn't do it until the next day. I called my friend, Tin, and asked him to come get me. I thought I would spend the night with them, but it is illegal for gaijins (foreigners) to stay with natives. But there was a missionary family living in Hue that I could stay with. He took me overs to the Hendersons and I spent the night with them. Then he came back early the next morning to take me back to the bike shop to get the bike and go back to Dong Ha.

Oh man, it was awful! The bike man had worked all night and wanted a fortune for fixing the college boy's motor bike. Tin got in a heated argument with him over the rip-off price, and we finally got it down to a negotiable price, and he guaranteed it would work. I wasn't sure. Okay, he said he would ride the bike back to Dong Ha, and Tin would take me there on his bike. We hadn't gone 5 ks before the bike gave it up again. Tin flagged down a truck. We loaded the bike on a truck and took it back to Dong Ha. I wound up pushing the bike back to the college boy. He was broken hearted but I gave him $25 to get his bike fixed, and finally wound up on a bus to go on my way back to Chiang Mai. I tell all this story because it was key to what happened after that.

A year or two later I was back in Vietnam, and was going through Hue. I wanted to see my friends there again. I saw Tin and called the Hendersons while I was in town. That was Saturday. Hendersons told me that there was a small English service for missionaries the next afternoon and invited me to attend.

That night I thought I would get a good meal and went to what looked like a pretty good restaurant. It was, but, man howdy, did I make a mistake! What I mean to say is; that was expensive. Had I known that I never would have gone there. But the food was good.

While I was eating, a charming young girl was going from table to table talking to guests. She came over to speak to me. In the conversation I asked her, “Would you like eternal life?” She laughed and said, “Oh no. I want a happy life.” I came back, “I'm happier than you.” She laughed and said, “What makes you think that you are happier than me?” “Because you have a lot of pain and sorrow in your heart.” She burst into tears. I said, “Please sit down.” “Oh no I can't. We are not allowed to sit down to speak with guests.” “Will you be here tomorrow?” “No, tomorrow is my day off.” “Will you be here on Monday.” “Yes, I will be here Monday morning.” “Can I see you at 9:00?” “Okay.”

The next day I was meeting with a gang of missionaries for a Sunday afternoon service and told them about my unusual meeting with this girl the night before at the restaurant. I asked John Henderson if he would be available Monday morning to be on stand by. He said he would. I told him if things worked out I would call him so he could come to the restaurant to meet this girl.

The next morning I went to the restaurant to have breakfast and Joy was waiting for me. We chatted for 15 minutes, and I asked Joy if I could borrow her cell phone. I called the Hendersons and said, “John, this is Bill. Get over here right away and bring a Bible.” I don't remember much of what happened after that. I do recall 15 minutes after I called, John showed up with a Bible. I introduced John to Joy and we had a nice chat. Later that day I got my bus and went on my way to return back to Chiang Mai via going through Laos.

A month after that I got an email from John Henderson telling me the sequel. Joy wound up going over to their house and fell in love with them and their family. They took her to church. Tin's church. She had never been in a church before in her life. She loved it. Within a month Joy was soundly saved. She fell in love with Jesus and in a couple of more months she was baptized. From time to time John would send me emails telling me what was going on in Hue. The last I heard, Joy had quit her job, moved to Saigon, and was working with a baptist missionary.

Oh, Jesus, Jesus, I can never thank You enough for using me to be a small link in a chain of events to bring one soul to yourself and making them to be a member of Your Body.

Phyllis, I know I have told you this story before, but the Lord reminded me that the key to this girl's salvation was the poor college boy's junk motor bike. Had it not been for that sick bike I never would have met the Hendersons. It was because I got stranded that night in Hue that I wound up staying with them. And it was because I made a mistake that night and went to a restaurant that was out of my budget that I met Joy.

You don't have to be Charles Finney for the Lord to use you. I am not a historic missionary. I am just a class C Christian walking through life. Watchman Nee said the greatest poverty in the Christian world is the lack of one talent Christians (Mt. 25:14-15) using what they have to serve the Lord.

Ten years ago I was visiting a church in southern Japan for the second time. A man that I did not recognize came up to me and asked, “Do you recall this 100 yen coin?” I didn't. He held it out and said, “Last year, when you were here, you gave it to me and said, 'Accepting this coin is the same way as we accept Jesus.' I did and He has changed my life.”.

There are just two things I would like to say. I am not a product of a seminary. My highest academic achievement has been a high school diploma. I am just an average Christian who has had an unusual privilege of traveling to a number of countries. It wasn't by persuasive theological argument, but just an off hand remark given to me by the Holy Spirit that turned a key to unlock a Vietnamese girl's heart. And secondly, it is amazing how the Lord takes some of the difficulties of life that we dislike so much at the time, to be the means of using them to weave together the fabric, with which He is building His Kingdom.

Oh, thank God.

                          bill

Korea

 10 November 2019

Dear Phyllis,

I first went to Japan in December 1958. I had just been there four months when I got sent for three month TDY (temporary duty) to Korea. The 5^th Air Force had need of a duty officer for a bomb squadron in Kunsan AB in South Korea. That was a real bad assignment that no body wanted. I was the most junior man in my fighter squadron at Yokota and got tagged for the job. We had just started the Church of the Open Door at Yokota, I loved flying in Japan, and it seemed like a leper colony assignment to get consigned to go there. But that assignment was one of the major moments of my life.

Kunsan was one of the least desirable places to go to in the Air Force. It had only been six years since the Korean War armistice. South Korea was as an impoverished place as there was on the planet. Kunsan was a fairly small air base with absolutely no place to go in town. But the Lord knew that was the best place for me.

Russ O'uinn was literally the first man I met in Japan. I had only been there 30 hours when I decided to go to the base chapel to see if I could find some Christians. I went to the Officers Club to have breakfast before church, and when I walked in the dinning hall I saw a man sitting by himself having breakfast with a wore out Bible on the table. I walked over and asked, “May I join you?” That .began an epic phase of my life. Russ was a civilian tech rep with Douglas Aircraft for the B-66 program, and was the Bible teacher at the base chapel. It was love at first sight. Russ was a world class preacher. He later went on to international acclaim in aviation. His picture was on the cover of Life magazine with a feature article written about his life. He has been featured on Jim Dobson's Focus on the Family broadcast several times and he has been the speaker at numerous prestigious occasions. And he has led several high ranking generals to Christ. Russ was truly a world class servant of Christ. I was a jet fighter pilot, which was about a rare as hens teeth, so we instantly became buddies. So many people were getting saved through Russ' Bible class at the base chapel that the base chaplain kicked us off base shortly after I arrived at Yokota. The activity was intoxicating. And then I got sent to Korea.

There was virtually nothing to do there but read the Bible and Christian books. One of the first ones that I read was Watchman Nee's, The Normal Christian Life. That was a life changer. Shortly after I arrived at Kunsan, I met a Christian Korean guard who became my best friend and my interpreter as we were out preaching in Korean churches nearly every Sunday in the Kunsan area.

One of the epic events that happened while I was there was one night when there was an explosion at the base fuel dump. Three men were badly burned. Just at that time, the only flight surgeon we had on base was on vacation, and there was no doctor for these critically burned men. All they had at the hospital was the dentist and a medical corpsman. They loaded the base doctor on a plane at Osan, which was about a 45 minute flight away, and tried to get him back.

I was the duty officer that night, and we had a radio in our duty section that was on flight frequencies. While I was on duty I listened to the aircraft that was bringing the base flight surgeon back. The weather was awful and the pilot couldn't get below the clouds to land the plane. The base commander got on line and told the pilot, “I can't order you to break minimums but, this is a desperate situation, and if you can get below the clouds the visibility is good enough to land.”. He tried several times but the clouds just kept getting lower and lower until the field was completely socked in with dense fog. I had been listening to all this on the radio in my duty section. At one point I did something that was totally off the books. I called the pilot and asked to speak to the doctor. We all knew each other. I said, “Doc, this is Lieutenant Cook at Pad C. What would you think if I went over to Chunju and got the missionary doctor at the hospital there?” I had been over there a couple of times and knew all the missionary staff. The doc replied, “That is not a bad idea”.

When I got off work at midnight, I went straight to the base hospital where the dentist and corpsman were attending a critically burned man. The base commander was there, and I asked him, “Sir, may I have a jeep to go to Chunju to get the missionary doctor?” The base commander replied, “No, we are doing alright here, and our base flight surgeon will be here as soon as it clears in the morning”.

Then I did something totally against regs. In direct violation to the base commander's specific instruction, I went to the motor pool and checked out a jeep and a Korean driver on my own signature. I had no authority to do that, and the sergeant shouldn't have let me have one, but simply because I was an officer, he didn't think about it and gave me the jeep.

What a night! It was awful. Chunju was only about 40 km away, but the fog was terrific. I couldn't have made it by myself, but the Korean driver knew the road and we got there about 3:00 AM. I got Bob Phillips out of bed. He was a first class doctor, but a fairly young man and had only been in Korea about 5 years. Bob had contracted a serious disease and before we left he had to first go to the lab to take a blood sample on himself. That put us back an hour and it was 4:00 AM before we got headed back to Kunsan. We got there right around dawn at 6:00. When we walked in the hospital, we found the corpsman in a panic. Just as we walked in the patient had gone into deep shock. Seeing the situation, Bob grabbed two chairs and told the corpsman to put them under the foot of the bed elevating it to keep blood to the patients head. Then he had the corpsman lie down on a bed next to the patient and gave him a direct blood transfer to jack up his blood pressure. Had we arrived five minutes later the man most certainly would have died. Bob stayed beside him to attend the patient as he gradually edged his way back from certain death. Two hours later he was reasonably stable and by 9:30 the fog had lifted so that the base flight surgeon got back. The two doctors discussed the situation and at 11:00 o'clock the base gave us a helicopter to take Bob Phillips back to Chunju. That was quite an event when we landed the helicopter in a school yard next to the hospital. Fortunately, I didn't get in trouble for going against the base commander's specific instructions, and he later thanked me for saving the airman's life.

Those three months TDY to Korea were some of the best times of my life. All Air Force pilots are required to fly four hours a month to get special flight pay. And the Air Force is obligated to see that they have something to fly. There were four of us who were assigned to Kunsan for non-flying duty, so the AF gave us a T-33 to play with in order to get our flying time. We were like school boys with a motor bike. In the 50s Korea was like the US west frontier days; it was like there were no rules. Man howdy, I had some of the best fun flying ever .

But spiritually, this was a rare time. I had just been saved two years and this was a time of unparalleled maturing and growth. The Lord gave me a wonderful friend and interpreter. I had more opportunities to speak in different churches each Sunday than at any time before or since. I was a rare phenomenon. As a military/missionary I had the best of both worlds. I took some leave while I was there and traveled all over the country. I met missionaries from all over. In the subsequent years I was occasionally deployed to Suwon flying our F-86 fighters. But Kunsan was the most profitable time. And for the next 60 years I have been able to say, “Yes, I know Korea”.

Thank You Jesus,

                            bill

Talking Out of My Heart

3 November 2019

Dear Phyllis,

Please forgive me for writing stupid letters, but I just want to share with you what I am dealing with in my heart. I am tremendously conflicted. I wonder what the Prodigal Son thought, the night of the party, after he came home (Lk. 15:11-24): as he sat there next to the father, the guest of honor, at the head table looking at the new robe dad had given him, the ring on his finger, and scuffing his new shoes on the floor. What in the world was going through his mind that night? How did those shoes feel on his feet? It hadn't been long since he was standing ankle deep in pig swill. But even that was a step up from the depth of sin he was in shortly before then with the ladies in the bar. You talk about someone being conflicted – now there is a case for you.

Firstly, I want to honestly say I am not a spiritual guy. I am not George Mueller, or some mystic from the past. I don't have dreams and visions. The Lord does not show me things like Daniel or Ezekiel. I am not John who got called up to heaven. I am not a prophet, and most of the things I think are going to happen usually turn out different. But I do have some serious meetings with the Lord in the morning.

Last Wednesday, when I was having devotions, I saw in my mind a scene where I was attending the award ceremony in heaven. There was a large room with many tables. An angel ushered me over to a table with my name where I was supposed to be seated. I sat down, but felt very uncomfortable. This is not a place for me. I excused myself, got up, and walked to the back of the room. That wasn't much better. I went outside and stood in the street. Too close. I walked to the gate of the City (the New Jerusalem). Still too close. I asked Jesus, “Lord, may I stand outside the gate to heaven and worship you there?” That still seemed too close. Finally I walked a considerable distance out in a desert and found a lonely place with a large rock. I got up on that rock, faced the Throne, raised my hands, and shouted, “Praise Jesus! Praise Jesus! Praise Jesus! ...” Oh, that felt good! At last I found a place where I felt comfortable to worship the Lord.

Thursday morning I went outside and sat down in my chase lounge chair to have devotions. But before I opened my Bible, the angel came to the place where I was standing on the rock the day before, 20 km from the City, and told me, “Jesus wants you to come back and sit at the table that has your name.” Komatta (big problem)!!

Phyllis, shimpai shinai de (don't worry), I haven't lost my mind. I am not hallucinating. I'm not on drugs. I am just talking out of my heart, sharing things that are going on inside me. And I do not apologize for the things I say. I am no different than any other ordinary Christian. I am just a C+ Christian. I am just a poor man with extremely poor spiritual eye sight. Spiritually speaking, I see men as trees walking (Mk. 8:24). But I have come to the place where I thank God for stupidity and spiritual blindness. By stupidity I don't mean dumbness. I mean the inability to perceive spiritual reality as it is. I am totally convinced that most Christians do not see spiritual reality in bright light. One possible exception to this might be the Apostle Paul, and the Lord had to send a thorn in the flesh to keep him balanced (2^nd Cor. 12:7). I am fortunate that I am blind enough that the Lord doesn't have to use extreme measures to keep me humble.

When Moses was meeting with the Lord on the mountain he asked to see God's glory. The Lord told him that no man could see His glory and live. But He would place him in the cleft of the rock, cover him with His hand, and allow him to see His back parts (Ex. 33:18-23). I can understand that. I have told you before, that when I was in the hospital with my cut hand the pain was terrible. I couldn't sleep, and spent a lot of time walking the halls of the hospital at night. But in those long weary nights the Lord pulled back the curtain of heaven about 10 cm (4 inches) and allowed me to hear the angels singing. Oh it was wonderful! The volume was just above a whisper, but I asked the Lord to not turn it up any higher as I feared my heart would burst.

The other morning I sat down to have devotions and found I couldn't read the Bible. Every verse I turned to at random shown with such brilliance I burst into tears. When I considered my unfitness to be a follower of Jesus, the pain was just too much. Finally, I asked the Father, “Lord, I'm getting tired of looking at myself, please show me Jesus.” That was even worse. What I saw was Jesus covered with my sin. You talk about pain – oh my goodness that was awful! For some dumb reason I turned to Zech. 3:1-4. That was about the worst place in the Bible I could have looked. I saw Joshua standing there clothed with a filth garment. I don't know what was on his garment but I know mine was considerably worse, and the Lord took the filthy garment off and gave him a clean one. (“Behold, I have caused thine iniquity to pass from thee, and will clothe thee with a change of garment.”) That did it folks. That blew every fuse in the house. “He hath made Him to be sin for us who knew no sin, that we might be the righteousness of God in Him” (2^nd Cor. 5:21). Who in the world can handle that?! We all know it. Jesus changed garments with us. That is the sum of the Gospel. That's what it all is about. That is what I saw when I asked the Father to show me Jesus rather than myself. I saw Jesus standing there clothed with the sin of my filthy garment on Him. No man can look at that and live. Oh thank God for poor eye sight! If it wasn't for poor eye sight I couldn't live. How in the world the Lord is going to enable us handle that in heaven I have no idea. Obviously, there has got to be some horrendous alteration. The Lord has got to change us so we can see His glory. We know that we will have new bodies in the resurrection, but He is going to have to do something radical in our spirit to enable us to see spiritual reality in light that is on a totally different level than what we are dealing with here.

I'm sure you remember that great hymn, Crown Him with many crowns. The 2^nd stanza goes:

Crown Him the Lord of love:

Behold His hands and side

Rich wounds, yet visible above,

In beauty glorified;

No angel in the sky

Can fully bear that sight,

But downward bends his wondering eye

At mysteries so bright.

If the angles can't handle it how are we supposed to? If you can figure that one out, please let me know. Yes, I know. We are supposed to forget about our sin. The last point of the New Covenant is, “I will forgive their iniquity, and will remember their sin no more.” (Jer. 31:34). That is fine for God to say that. I'm glad He has forgotten about my sin, but, man howdy, it is hard for me to forget about it.

Don't worry, Phyllis. I haven't lost my mind. I'm not nuts. I'm sorry for another silly letter but these are just a few things that Jesus has been sharing with me recently. I am tremendously conflicted. What the Prodigal had to deal with the night he came home was just a parable that Jesus told us. But what I am dealing with is my actual sin on Jesus. I would like to thank Him, but adequate words simply do not exist. When you see Jesus next week would you please thank Him for me.

Gratefully, bill

Violent Person

3 November 2019

Dear Phyllis,

This is not a letter to be read. You might want to save time and delete it now, or, If not, you might put it in file to keep for some night when you can't sleep as it might be useful to help with insomnia. But there is an interesting event in my life that I would like to share with you that might give you a better understanding about my recent interest in going to Pakistan. This story is too long to reduce it to my usual five page Sunday letter so I am sending this out as a special mid-week testimony.

By way of biographical sketch, when God put me together He was short of parts of a good nature and common sense, and to compensate He put in an extra portion of a hot temper and a violent nature. My mother often said before I was born she knew the baby would be a boy. While I was still in her stomach I would kick so hard I nearly kicked my father out of bed. Mom said, “A girl can't kick that hard”. But there is a place in the Kingdom of God for a violent man. Jesus said the violent would take the Kingdom by force (Mt. 11:12). Phinehas was a violent man. He speared Zinri and Cozbi to the ground (Num. 25). Samuel was a violent man. He hacked up Agag (1 Sam. 15:33). Elijah was a violent man. He slew the prophets of Baal (1 Kng. 18:40).

From the time I was young I have always been known for temper tantrums. I have been known as a fighter. But the Lord has been gracious in keeping me inside the parameter of the law. Many people have been afraid of me, but actually the last person I have struck was Doris Stranger in 2^nd grade. She kept taunting me that she was tougher than me. We wrestled after school for two nights, and then I powdered her in the nose with my fist. She ran home crying and after that nobody messed with little Billy Cook.

In 2000 there was a serious problem with a crazy man calling NLL five times a minuted all day. After a month, I spoke to Roald Lidal and said, “Why don't you stop that crazy phone?” He replied, “I can't. I have been to the police twice and they say there is nothing they can do about it.” “If they can't I can.” “Let's go to the police station together.” “No. I would rather go by myself. I might say some things you wouldn't like to hear.”

I went to the police station and they told me to go to the telephone company. I went to NTT and the manager told me they didn't have the equipment to trace calls. I told him. “You're a liar. You have the equipment to trace calls.”. He honestly replied, “Well, yes, that is true. We do have the equipment, but we can't use it without a court order.” But the biggest problem was within NLL. Everyone clammed up and wouldn't talk to me. I told Roald, “I'm making a little progress with the police and NTT, but everyone here is stonewalling me.” Roald told me, “Yes, that is true. Several folks have come to me and warned, 'Please call Bill off. He is going to cause a big problem for us'.”. I told Roald, “If you like the phone ringing, I love it. I'm out of here”. And for the next year I was away most of the time. I spent a lot of time in SEA, and was in Nara building a church for five months.

One year later. Roald called me in Nara saying, “I can't ask you to do anything, but, after you come back, I would be grateful for anything you could do to stop that phone from ringing.” The phone had rung non-stop for one year. Noriko, on the desk, had had a nervous breakdown and had to stop work. Roald had paid $10,000 for a lawyer and a private detective and all he got was the receipts. I told him, “When I get back I will do what I can.”

Revival had struck NLL. People who before were stonewalling me before were now cheering, “Bill san, gambatte (go for it)”. They knew all about the caller. The detective had taken a stack of pictures of the caller on the phone. There was a wonderful girl who worked in the design department that the caller wanted to marry. Chi chan had turned down him down and in revenge he decided to destroy NLL. He was an unusually large man for Japanese, a very violent man who had struck several people in church, and was famous for carrying a knife which he pulled on several people. Everyone at NLL was on my side but several men warned, “Bill, please don't go down there by yourself. He will kill you. Please take someone with you.” I wasn't opposed to help, but there was no one available to go. Most folks believed he was demon possessed and asked if I knew how to deal with demon possession. “Yes, I know how. I have had experience with demon possession”. I decided if he was a knife fighter I would be glad to play with him – his knife against my chain saw. The first time I went to Yokohama to take him on I took my chain saw. I started it every 15 minutes because I didn't want to get involved in a knife fight and have to choke my chain saw to start it.

The first day I went to Yokohama I went first to his house to familiarize myself with the area. Next I went to the police station. That was rich. I walked in the police station with my cowboy hat and boots on with my jeans and western shirt and announced in fluent Japanese, “I have come here to kill a man, and wanted to introduce myself before I do.” All the girls in the police station had their heads down on their desks laughing. I went into the office of the chief of police and told him, “This is no joke. I'm dead serious. This is going to get real messy and you are going to get involved. I just want you to know who I am and what I am going to do before hand.”

He was an ell. I went to Yokohama every day for two months. The police assigned one man to deal with me. He was a wonderful guy. I liked him very much. He pleaded with me, “Bill, please don't hit this guy. If you hit him, he will be the victim and we will have to arrest you.” “Fine. I am going to take him out so he will never call another person again in his life. NLL will have peace. You can arrest me and I can have a jail ministry to witness for Jesus in jail. That sounds like a good deal to me.”

I talked to everybody. I met his mother. She was a fine Christian. She and her husband had been school teachers in Nagano-ken and were very good middle class Japanese. Her husband had died and she was living alone with her son, Terumi. His younger brother was a pastor and told me, “The only way Terumi will be better is when he is dead.”. I talked with his married older sister. She was very understanding, but there was nothing she could do to help. I talked to his mother's pastor and he was praying about the problem. His mother invited me in the house and I looked at every door, window and everything in Terumi''s bed room. I went through his clothes and looked at his books. But naka naka I couldn't catch him. I spent hours driving all over Yokohama looking for him.

One night his mother invited me to have supper with them and, “After he comes home you can talk to him”. Great! I parked my truck some distance from the house so he wouldn't see it. He knew me and my truck. He had spent time looking out the window at me but then would slip out the back door. I took my shoes out of the genkan (entrance) so he wouldn't see them. After my first two trips to Yokohama I left my chain saw home and took a framing hammer. A framing hammer would be handy in a knife fight. The handle is long and it is a very lethal weapon. When mother was fixing supper she was cutting carrots with a large knife. I thought, “Oh, oh. I don't have my framing hammer and if he uses that knife what am I going to do?” I decide I would use a chair. A chair would take him down and good protection against a knife. This may sound crazy, but for three months I had never closed my eyes one time to pray for him or think about him that I didn't see us engaged in mortal combat in my mind. His mother told me, “If you ever get in a fight with him, he will fight to the death.” “Fine. That is what I signed up for.”

His mother told me, “he always comes home at 7:00 o'clock”. We waited, but he didn't come home. I thought, “The demons have probably told him that I am there waiting for him.” At 9:00 I was thinking about leaving but at 9:15 the door opened and he came in. There was a long hallway from the genkan to the living room where mother and I were sitting. Terumi walked down that hallway, opened the door, and saw me sitting there. He froze. The number one thing in my mind was to see how tough he was. I walked over and stuck my hand out to shake hands. He didn't move. Finally he reluctantly stuck his hand out to shake hands and I grabbed his hand and clamped down. He grimpsed with pain. No problem. He was a lazy bum that never worked. I could take him easily in 15 rounds. Then I looked in his eyes. I expected to see those demons glaring out of his eyes, but I was startled. I saw a lonely 12 year old little boy looking out of the body of a 45 year old man, and my heat melted. I said, “Terumi. Let's talk.” Oh my goodness I was wonderful! We talked for two hours. He tried to talk about the telephone but I kept changing the subject.

By 11:00 o'clock I said, “Terumi, I have really enjoyed this. Obviously we have a lot more to talk about but I have got to go home. Can we talk again next week?” “Oh, yes. Please come again.”. I suggested, “Terumi, Let's have a word of prayer”. “Oh, no, I couldn't do that”. “Sure you can. I'll pray first and then you tell God anything that is on your mind”. I poured my heart out to the Lord and then he began to pray. I never heard anything like it in my life. He pleaded, “Lord, please don't cast me away! Lord, forgive my deep sin!”. I went over and took him in my arms. He put his head on my chest and cried. As I was leaving, his mother stepped out from behind a corner in the genkan. She had been standing there listening to our conversation. I did something that you never do in Japan, and took her in my arms to hug her. That was probably the first time in 20 years that anyone had hugged her. My shoes never touched the ground as I floated out to get in my truck and coasted all the way home. That was the greatest miracle I had ever seen in my life.

The next day Terumi called me and asked me to pray for him. Sunday his mother called and said she was worried. She said his face was changing and he was muttering, “If I don't call I will be lonely.” Monday, the phone rang off the hook. Right back to square one.

I went back to Yokohama and the mother and I decided that the only option was hospitalization. We would have to commit him to the funny farm. His mother asked me if I would go with her to the city hall to fill out the forms to have him committed. Friday afternoon mother and I went to the Yokohama city hall to fill out the forms, but I was stunned when his mother did a complete 180 and changed her story. What she said to the officials was the dead opposite of everything she had told me for three weeks. You talk about being dumped – I was was dumbstruck.

For two months Chi chan had been working with me very closely on this case. We had prayed together nearly every day. She had been a tremendous help to me in explaining the family. Her dad was a pastor and knew Terumi from years back. I had had supper with her mom and dad. Chi chan had gone with me to Yokohama one time to speak with Terumi's mother. I desperately needed help and called her from the city hall in Yokohama asking if I could see her Sunday. Chi told me she wasn't surprised and knew the mother might respond that way.

Terumi's mother invited me to have supper with her again that night. It was an exact re-run of the week before. He didn't come home on time and we waited until 9:00 o'clock. At 9:15 he came in and was startled to see me sitting in the living room waiting for him. He froze again, and I went over saying, “Terumi, come on in and let's talk.”. We sat down and I said, “Terumi, I have heard a lot about you from other people, but tonight I want to hear your story from yourself.” We sat there for two hours as he told me his life story, how he had met Chi chan's father when he was his pastor in Kyushu and all the problems in his life. At 11:00 o'clock he asked, “Bill, will you wait for me? I have to pray.” “I will wait, but I might fall sleep. If I'm asleep just wake me up.”. He went up stairs and came down 20 minutes later.

This time it was different. I brought down all his equipment and explained in detail how he had managed to call hundreds of times a day. He said sometime he would look at his fingers in amazement as if someone else was moving his fingers. He did his dead level best to burn the bridge so that he would never call again. He had heard about Noriko having a nervous breakdown and was concerned that he might go to jail. He wanted to visit NLL and apologize for all the problem he had caused to so many for one year. I told him I didn't think that would be possible but if he would quit, they would forgive him and there would be no legal involvement.

When I drove home that night it was different. I wasn't euphoric as I had been the week before, but I had a deep settled conviction that it was all over. It was.

There are a couple of take-aways from this story. Terumi told me the thing that broke the devils hold on him was when he saw how devilish he had been - and the horrendous problem he had caused to so many people for such a long time - but after all that, God still loved him; that broke his heart and the devil lost his grip. But there was another hidden factor. For six months, the ladies at NLL had been praying for 30 minutes every noon that the Lord would solve this problem. It wasn't the wild man with a chain saw and a framing hammer that was the key to this problem. It was the prayers of the godly sisters at NLL that broke the power of satan. But God can still use a violent man with a hot temper as a secondary factor to show the love of God to a man bound by the devil. There is a place in the Kingdom of God for kooks, crazy, and cranks. And sometimes they might even think about going to Pakistan.

If you read this epistle this far, you will get bonus points in heaven. Thanks again for the privilege of your fellowship;

In the bonds of our wonderful Lord Jesus,

                                                          bill

Pakistan II

27 October 2019

Dear Phyllis,

You may be curious as to what is happening about Pakistan. That is a long story.

The last night of Jesus' life, He said to the disciples, “When I sent you out empty handed did you lack anything?” “No” “But now I tell you sell your garment and buy a sword” “Lord, we have two” “Good; that is enough.” (Lk. 22:35-38). (Bill Cook translation - “Fellows, from now on this is war. Get ready to fight”) Two hours later a band of soldiers showed up to take Jesus. Peter had one of the swords and dove into the crowd swinging. The passion of his life was to go down fighting for His Lord. You know the story. I can understand Peter's humiliation when Jesus told him to put up his sword, and reached down to pick up Malchus' ear to fix the mess that Peter made (Jn. 18:10) . This story exemplifies one of the mysteries of the Gospel.

I make no apology for my letter last week. That was as reasonable and rational as any letter I have written. Ever since I have been saved I have had a great desire to be an effective witness for Jesus. I am not a bad preacher. I have had some success in the pulpit but today there is not one church in the world that has asked me to come give a testimony. I sit here in silence. I have said, “If I can't serve Jesus with my Bible, the least I can do is to make a few things for His servants in my shop. But today there is resistance to that and I am thinking about giving away all my tools. I am as bankrupted as a man can get. If I can't serve Jesus with my Bible, and I can't serve Him with my shop, I am down now to where there is only one thing I have to offer Him – my blood.

The Lord has brought me to perhaps the most advantageous position of my life. I have had a great desire to get back to Chitral to share Christ with those wonderful men I met 12 years ago, but that is as dangerous a place as any on earth. Praise God, He has made me uniquely qualified to go. Ever since the doctor told me that I had a malignant tumor in my eye I have had as much peace and joy as at any time in my life. If you are in a far country with a great desire to get home, there is nothing sad about getting a boarding pass to get on a plane. Today I am in a huge win-win situation. It would be great to see a little humor in the grim business of Islamic terrorists. I would love to see the face of some Taliban leader if they captured me demanding $1,000,000 ransom, and the US State Dept. responded, “He is too old and has cancer. We don't want him; you can keep him.”. Man howdy, that would be fun! I am not tough. I don't like needles. They say eye cancer is not a good way to die. They say it is

very uncomfortable. At the moment I am in very good health and have no pain. I would like to get out of here before it gets uncomfortable. If I met an Islamic assassin I would greet him as a welcomed friend. Who is more qualified to go to Chitral than me?

There is only one guiding star in the sky for any Christian – the will of God. Since my conversion this is the only question I have considered for any decision I have had to make. But guidance isn't that easy. There are several methods we use. One is to sit tight until something moves, and another is to select one option and pursue it, pleading with Jesus to “please stop me if I am going the wrong way”. What I was confronted with two weeks ago looked very much like the Lord was leading me towards Pakistan. I made the decision to move in that direction. Ever since Pastor Hanook pleaded with me to come work with him I have promised him that as soon as the Lord gave me the money and a green light I would come immediately. Four years ago some friends that I hadn't seen in 50 years sent me $1,000. I thought, “Well, here it is. Let's go.” But as I prayed about working with him, I felt very strongly that the Islamics would kill him before they would kill me, and I backed off. Two weeks ago the Lord gave me another $1,000 and it looked like a re-run. This time I decided not to endanger Pastor Hanook, but go by myself to the Northwest territory. That is where I was last week.

Monday I went to a travel agent to see about buying a ticket. What a joke! When I walked in there the travel agent asked, “Where would you like to go?”. I said, “Pakistan”. She asked again, “Where would you like to go?”. “Pakistan” “Would you please write that.”. I wrote P A K I S T A N. I asked, “What do you have for Pakistan Airline?”. The travel agent said she had never heard of Pakistan Airline. “I would like to go to Islamabad”. She said, “I have never heard of Islamabad”. I didn't buy a ticket.

I had written Pastor Hanook to confirm that I could get a visa on arrival. He called the Pakistan embassy in Bangkok and was told that I would have to have a copy of my marriage license, Thai visa documents, and take my wife with me. I don't have money to buy two tickets and I am not going to take my wife to Pakistan. That put that one out of reach.

Most of all, I believe very strongly in the seriousness of the wedding vow. I believe a mans first responsibility is to his wife. Last week I wrote that if there was anyone who would care to support me, and they would send it to Pammy, that would be a very good investment of their money. I am not involved in her ministry. We have always been badly under-supported, and the usual funds we receive from Japan didn't come this month. At mid-month Pammy said we were flat broke and couldn't pay for basic expenses. When the Lord gave me that $1000 two weeks ago I felt that money was for Pakistan, but now a good portion must be spent on daily living. Obviously Chitral must be put on hold again.

I knew a Japanese lady who, after the 2^nd WW, felt she hadn't prayed enough and was personally responsible for Japan loosing the war. To atone for her sin, all she could do was commit suicide. She went to Tokyo and swallowed a bottle of sleeping pills on the Imperial grounds. In her sleep she vomited the pills and woke up several hours later, depressed saying, “I am so bad even the gods don't want me.” She later got saved and was a wonderful Bible woman with Mino Mission.

At the moment I feel a little like that dear sister when she said “even the gods don't want me”. It would be a great honor if I could give a little blood for Jesus, but it looks like He doesn't even want that. I have no idea what to do. I have no expectation of any opening for a preaching ministry. My future in the shop does not look particularly bright. And, to be realistic, it is highly unlikely that I will ever have the privilege of shedding my blood for Jesus. That doesn't leave much left. Hopefully it is not too far from here to the River. But my one great consolation is the Inverted Kingdom.

As I have said many times, in God's Kingdom the way up is to go down. The way to save your life is to lose it. Seek your life you will lose it. The way to get is by giving. The way to victory is by surrender. The Lamb is the Lion. The wisdom of men is foolishness to God. (Man howdy that is true. The dumbest people on this earth are at Harvard) God has chosen the foolishness of preaching to be the power of God unto salvation. And weakness is strength. If that is true I may be in a blessed position. This isn't what I would have chosen, but this is the life that Jesus has given me. If God can use my silence to be a shout for Jesus I am satisfied.

Praise the Lord I am here for one more Sunday,

                                                            bill

Pakistan

20 October 2019

Dear Phyllis,

This may be the strangest letter of my life. I don't mean to be melodramatic, but I would like to share things with you that are deeply on my heart.

Many years ago I spoke to a large group of students who had come from a Bible school in the states to take Bibles into Vietnam and Laos. I spoke to them about the three abilities that are necessary to be an effective servant of Christ. The first ability is AVAIL-ABILITY. Most people have their own agenda and are not available to serve the Lord. The second ability is DEPEND-ABILITY. If a person is not dependable they are of very little value to the Lord. And the third ability is EXPEND-ABILITY. We have come to a place in world missions where it is impossible to witness for Christ in places that might cost your life to go there. If you are not expendable, please stay home.

Three months ago when the doctor told me that I had a malignant tumor in my left eye I said that is good news. That might be my boarding pass to get to heaven. But recently I have come to realize this might be the greatest gift Jesus has ever given me. This has given me a huge advantage in life.

Ever since I have been saved my greatest desire has been to be an effective witness for Christ. I have had a great desire to be a Bible teacher or preacher, but the Lord has closed the door to that ministry. There is not one church in the world that has asked me to come speak to them. Since my silencing, I have said, “If I can't serve Jesus with my Bible, at least, I want to serve the Lord with my hammer”. But now there has been resistance to using my shop to serve the Lord. If Jesus closes the door to serving Him with my Bible and my hammer, there is only thing I have left to offer Him. Jesus shed His Blood for me and the greatest honor I could have is to shed my blood for Him. That is all I have left to offer Him.

The last time I tried to get a visa for Pakistan I was turned down, The head of the visa department in the Bangkok embassy told me the Taliban was salivating for foreigners to hold for ransom. I have heard since then that this has cost Pakistan so much tourist money that they are now offering visas on arrival. If I go to Pakistan now I would like to leave a letter with the US state department saying, if the Taliban captures me and demands $1,000,000 ransom, I would like the state department to reply, “He is too old and has cancer. We don't want him; you can keep him.”. Oh, that would be fun.

Several years ago when I was in Chitral, Pakistan, some high school boys took me to their school and the English teacher asked me to speak to his class. After the class I had tea with three teachers. That was a high moment in my life. Oh they were wonderful! I have longed to go back there to win them for Christ.

There are places in Pakistan that are ruled by tribal leaders where it is so dangerous, even the Pakistan army can't go in there. Brother Andrew said, “There is no place on this planet where we can't go in. We might not come back, but we can go in. And for a Christian it is not important that we come back, but we do have an obligation to take the Gospel in.”.

Jesus has brought me to a unique position in life. The highest honor in the Bible are those who were beheaded for Christ. These are the ones who will rule and reign with Jesus for 1,000 years (Rev. 20:4). Let someone else be the mayor, but I would be embarrassed to go to heaven without getting at least a couple of scratches for Jesus. If the Lord would allow me to shed a little blood for Him, eternity would be inadequate to thank Him for that privilege.

My dear Pakistani friend. Pastor Hanook has pleaded with me to come work with him. I have promised him, “When the Lord gives me the money and a green light I will be there immediately.” Three years ago the Lord did give me the money and I seriously prayed about going. But I thought, “If I go, the Islamics would kill him first before me.”. In doing dangerous things I have never been concerned about personal safety, but I refuse to do anything to endanger anyone else. What I have in mind now is to visit him briefly, and then go to the northwest territory by myself. If I can get to Chitral that would be the privilege of my life to see my teacher friends again and tell them about the wonderful Lamb of God who came and died so that we could be with Him in eternity. Peshawar and Chital is an area controlled by the Taliban. I am not afraid of the Taliban. On the contrary, I would love to meet them to tell them about a greater cause to fight for. It would be suicide for anyone else to go there, but Jesus has given me protective amour and promised not a hair of my head will perish (Lk. 21:18).

Needless to say Pammy does not agree with my thinking. She would like for me to go to the states to a VA hospital where I could get treatment for my eye. But, let's be reasonable. Look, I am 83. Which is more important to go to the states and get treatment that might extend my life four or five years longer, or seize the unique opportunity that I have to go to an area that would be virtually impossible for a more valuable worker? I have found that Jesus has given me the high ground in being totally expendable. I am not only expendable, but this is the way to take the high ground.

I don't mean to be melodramatic. These are serious issues that I must make decisions about soon. There are high mountain passes to go over to get to Chital that are closed in the winter time. I was over the Shandur pass going from Gilget to Chitral. I mean to tell you that was one different road. It took two different vans to get there. One van went from Gilget over Shandur. and then another van came to meet us at the bottom of that pass as there was a bridge that was too narrow for a car to go over. Chitral itself is not that cold but it is hard to get to in the winter time. I don't have a lot of money but I do have enough to buy a ticket to Islamabad. I would like to spend some time in Faisalabad with Pastor Hanook and then go by myself to the northwest territory. Peshawar is at the base of the Khyber pass and from there it is only 80 km to Kabul, Afghanistan. I would love to go to Afghanistan and that may be possible if I go to Peshawar first. These are things that would be impossible for a younger healthier man to think about, but Jesus has made me different.

I have to get a new Thai visa in January. If I go right now I can get back in time to process a new Thai visa. And if all went well in Pakistan, that would take care of the problem of Thai visas. I already have one for heaven.

Pammy would like me to stay here with her for a few more years, but I am not involved in her ministry. My greatest contribution to her is that I am the channel for 95% of her funds. If there is anyone who would care to support me that would continue to send funds to her she would be deeply grateful. Her English is good enough that she can keep in touch by Internet and she desperately wants to go to the states to gather souls there.

Gomen nasai for a weird letter. You probably don't get to read too many letters like this. In all probability life will go one as usual, but at the moment the Lord has given me adequate funds to get to Pakistan and circumstances are pressing me to make some hard decisions what He wants me to do with that.

As they say in the south, “Ya'll pray for us now, heya”,         bill