Audrey enjoyed reading, and she came across this encouraging article that really resonated with her. She treasured it. Even with all its ups and downs, Audrey knew that God directed her life. For years, whenever she felt someone needed encouragement, she would mail them this article, assuring them that God could solve their problem, if only they would trust Him.
I was seated beside a lovely pond on the grounds of the Indonesian Embassy in Singapore on the Friday after Thanksgiving, 1978. It was a bright sunny day – and I was sick to my stomach. The day had become a nightmare of red tape. I was en route from Taipei, Taiwan, to Kalimantan Barat (the Western section of Borneo) where I was to speak at the Annual Field Conference of the Conservative Baptist Mission in Indonesia.
My plan was to fly from Singapore to Kuching on the Malaysian part of Borneo, and from there fly to Pontianak in Indonesian Borneo. A pilot with Missionary Aviation Fellowship (MAF) would take me to the mission base. In Singapore I was to get the ticket for the flight from Kuching, along with securing an Indonesian visa. So early that morning I went to the airline office, only to find it had moved back to Jakarta. One couldn’t buy a ticket on that airline anywhere in Singapore.
Because my confirmed flight from Singapore to Kuching was on Air Malaysia, I next went to its office. The agent tried to help but wasn’t able to get me a ticket. The best she could do was to write a standby ticket and tell me I might be able to get one in Kuching.
With that, I went to the embassy for my visa. A gracious woman looked at my papers, studied my passport, but then stopped because I didn’t have a confirmed ticket on the last leg of my trip. I explained I couldn’t get one in Singapore. She went to her supervisor. When she returned, she told me her supervisor had confirmed my story. “He will stamp your passport on Monday morning at 8 o’clock.“
“But I need to have the visa stamp today. My flight to Kuching must be made this weekend, because the only flight to Pontianak from Kuching is Monday morning at 8. I’ll miss every connection.” She responded “I am sure he just failed to notice. I’ll go talk to him again.” She was gone several minutes.
She returned with distress. “My supervisor will not stamp your passport until Monday morning. He is already deviating from policy by agreeing to stamp it without a clear airline ticket. He has face to save. I’m sorry.”
He had to save face. She was sorry. I was stunned. I told her about our sick daughter in Taiwan and that many people were counting on me. I told her how much it had cost for the ticket. I nearly told her the messages I had prepared for the missionaries.
That dear woman went to her supervisor for the third time. When she came back, she had a tissue at her eyes. She told me her supervisor would not change his mind, and if she bothered him once more, she would lose her job. “I’m really sorry,“ she said.
I left the office and sat beside the pond. It became a swamp for my emotions. I felt betrayed and alone. Even as I sensed God had forsaken me, I prayed for him to help. Who else could I turn to? I had to decide something. If I couldn’t get to where I was going from Singapore, I’d try from someplace else. Jakarta, the capital of Indonesia, seemed the only place that made sense. I went to the Air Garuda Office in the embassy complex and asked if they would reserve a seat for me to Jakarta on a Monday morning flight. But the new ticket cost more than I had. I put a deposit on it, then rushed to the Air Malaysia office for a refund on the ticket I wouldn’t be using. The woman said she’d mail it to my home in Oregon. After hearing my story, she arranged for a transfer of funds to Air Garuda. With a credit card loan for the balance, I paid for the ticket, then went back to the embassy for that visa.
When the woman saw me again, she blanched. I told her my new plan. Could I still get the visa stamp Monday? She said she would do anything if she didn’t have to talk to her supervisor again.
I spent the weekend in Singapore enjoying the country and its people. Monday morning the woman gave me my stamped passport and I flew to Jakarta. I arrived after five. The airline office was closed. And I still didn’t know how I would get to Kalimantan Barat. Even more, I didn’t know where to stay that night and my funds were getting low. I knew no one. I prayed to God.
Then I remembered a conversation months earlier with a missionary in Manila. He said “If you ever get to Jakarta, you may wish to stay at the general mission business office run by the Christian and Missionary Alliance.” I found the address in the English section of the phonebook, gave it to a taxi driver, and found myself on a long cab ride. Finally the driver pulled up and I saw the sign for the mission. I went in and introduced myself. The missionary who greeted me was incredulous. “You can’t be Ron Allan!”
He said he had been in radio contact with the missionaries where I was to speak and learned the plane from Kuching wasn’t flying that week. If I’d gone there from Singapore, I could not have gotten to Indonesia.
“We tried to find you all over Asia,” he said. “We telephone or wired every place we thought you might be, with no success. We wanted you to change your plans and come here to Jakarta. We’ve made arrangements for your flight to Pontianak from here. Everything is ready, but we thought we would never see you.“
Then he said, “Tell me - how in the world did you ever wind up here?“
How indeed! An official wanted to save face. A clerk was sorry. I was sick. But my God was there. I responded, “The God I thought had rejected me, it was He who brought me here!”
You are a shield around me, O Yahweh, my glorious One, Who lifts up my head.
(Psalm 3:3)
