My testimony
Isn't it interesting how events can set the stage for the unfolding of your life? Call it prophetic if you will.
I had grown up in a denominational church and heard Bible stories all of my life. I even knew a few Bible verses by heart, but the old adage, "Just because you walk into a barn, that doesn't make you a horse." Well, the adage is correct because I had grown up in the church and I wasn't a Christian. I suppose all of those who had gone to church all of their lives with me thought they were Christians, like I did, but I don't think they all were.
When I found Ruth, my future wife, our folks thought that it was a perfect match, since we were both of the same denomination, and even the same sect of that denomination. It turned out to be a perfect match, but not for that reason.
I had been teaching math and science in a small town by the name of Bloomer, Wisconsin. I had heard that a man who had grown up in Bloomer was the superintendent of schools in Nome, Alaska, and that he was visiting relatives on his way back from a meeting in Washington, DC.
I was able to get a chance to meet the guy and after a few minutes he said to me, "Jim, if you want to come to Nome next year and teach math, the job is yours."
Now, to a an adventuresome guy like myself, saying do you want to come to Alaska and teach, is like saying, "sick'um" to a dog.
I went home and told Ruth, we are going to Alaska, I have a teaching job if I want it.
Now we must back up a couple of years when I first got out of college. I had decided that I wanted to teach out west and Ruth and I took off right after graduation and went as far as Colorado to interview. For some reason I didn't like or want any of the jobs available and on our way home we went via the Black Hills of SD. While sitting in the restaurant in Custer, I said, "I wonder if the superintendent of schools is in at this hour." I went to the phone and called the school and sure enough he was in and asked me to come right up for an interview. When we got home there was a contract to teach waiting for me in the mailbox.
Ruth's comment to the contract was, "I am not going to live that far away from my folks."
Now, you can imagine what her reaction was to my coming home and saying, "Guess what honey, we are going to Alaska." I had better not say what she said.
Well, we went. We moved through the mail by parcel post. During that summer our youngest son Randy was born and by moving time he was six weeks old, too young for any immunization shots, "we'll get them there," we said.
We weren't in Nome more than a few weeks when the baby got "Whooping Cough." Nome didn't have any resident doctors; only young residents who volunteered to go to Nome for a couple of months and help out. These young whippersnappers had never seen "Whooping Cough" in the lower 48 and had no idea what it was. Randy would cough until he stopped breathing and we would have to pick him up and pat him on the back so until he started breathing.
I really though that I would be digging a grave for that boy before we left Nome. I was teaching adult education at the time and an old Eskimo woman in my class diagnosed the illness for me as she lost a couple of children to "Whooping Cough."
About that time our oldest, Jeff, was sick as well and spent some time in the hospital.
We were going to a missionary Eskimo church that had about 5 white families. The denomination sent an evangelist up to our church to evangelize the Eskimos. There was to be a week of evangelistic meetings and while Ruth stayed home with the boys I took in a couple of them. On February 25th, 1967, I sat near the back of the church, on the right hand side and asked the Lord Jesus to forgive of my sins and save me.
It took nearly loosing my boys to get me to the point where I couldn't look any direction but up, fortunately, I looked up, and He looked down and saw my need.
I was the only white face sitting in the audience that night and I believe that I was the only one to get saved. What God won't do to save one soul is more than we can imagine.
Praise the Lord.
Isn't it interesting how events can set the stage for the unfolding of your life? Call it prophetic if you will.
I had grown up in a denominational church and heard Bible stories all of my life. I even knew a few Bible verses by heart, but the old adage, "Just because you walk into a barn, that doesn't make you a horse." Well, the adage is correct because I had grown up in the church and I wasn't a Christian. I suppose all of those who had gone to church all of their lives with me thought they were Christians, like I did, but I don't think they all were.
When I found Ruth, my future wife, our folks thought that it was a perfect match, since we were both of the same denomination, and even the same sect of that denomination. It turned out to be a perfect match, but not for that reason.
I had been teaching math and science in a small town by the name of Bloomer, Wisconsin. I had heard that a man who had grown up in Bloomer was the superintendent of schools in Nome, Alaska, and that he was visiting relatives on his way back from a meeting in Washington, DC.
I was able to get a chance to meet the guy and after a few minutes he said to me, "Jim, if you want to come to Nome next year and teach math, the job is yours."
Now, to a an adventuresome guy like myself, saying do you want to come to Alaska and teach, is like saying, "sick'um" to a dog.
I went home and told Ruth, we are going to Alaska, I have a teaching job if I want it.
Now we must back up a couple of years when I first got out of college. I had decided that I wanted to teach out west and Ruth and I took off right after graduation and went as far as Colorado to interview. For some reason I didn't like or want any of the jobs available and on our way home we went via the Black Hills of SD. While sitting in the restaurant in Custer, I said, "I wonder if the superintendent of schools is in at this hour." I went to the phone and called the school and sure enough he was in and asked me to come right up for an interview. When we got home there was a contract to teach waiting for me in the mailbox.
Ruth's comment to the contract was, "I am not going to live that far away from my folks."
Now, you can imagine what her reaction was to my coming home and saying, "Guess what honey, we are going to Alaska." I had better not say what she said.
Well, we went. We moved through the mail by parcel post. During that summer our youngest son Randy was born and by moving time he was six weeks old, too young for any immunization shots, "we'll get them there," we said.
We weren't in Nome more than a few weeks when the baby got "Whooping Cough." Nome didn't have any resident doctors; only young residents who volunteered to go to Nome for a couple of months and help out. These young whippersnappers had never seen "Whooping Cough" in the lower 48 and had no idea what it was. Randy would cough until he stopped breathing and we would have to pick him up and pat him on the back so until he started breathing.
I really though that I would be digging a grave for that boy before we left Nome. I was teaching adult education at the time and an old Eskimo woman in my class diagnosed the illness for me as she lost a couple of children to "Whooping Cough."
About that time our oldest, Jeff, was sick as well and spent some time in the hospital.
We were going to a missionary Eskimo church that had about 5 white families. The denomination sent an evangelist up to our church to evangelize the Eskimos. There was to be a week of evangelistic meetings and while Ruth stayed home with the boys I took in a couple of them. On February 25th, 1967, I sat near the back of the church, on the right hand side and asked the Lord Jesus to forgive of my sins and save me.
It took nearly loosing my boys to get me to the point where I couldn't look any direction but up, fortunately, I looked up, and He looked down and saw my need.
I was the only white face sitting in the audience that night and I believe that I was the only one to get saved. What God won't do to save one soul is more than we can imagine.
Praise the Lord.
posted by Jim Burton at 7:46 AM
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