907-479-3779
zerbe@alaska.net
Christmas Greetings from the Zerbes in
Fairbanks, Alaska.
We
wish all of you a joyous Christmas and a joyous new
year. May our faith be unshakeable in a very
insecure world in 2007. The church at Manley Hot
Springs also sends their greetings to you all as
well as all the missionaries we are able to fly for,
thanks in part to your faithful support.
Item 1--The partridge in a pear tree
First,
it was a mad moose charging me at our front door. My
big S&W 500 pistol settled that dispute. But what do
you do when a grouse leaves its perch on a tree in
your yard and flies at warp speed through three
panes of window glass into your living room, winding
up in the middle of your living room floor with
pieces of glass everywhere? Was this a Christmas
suicide bomber! This bird went into the soup pot,
but he will be the most expensive grouse I’ve ever
eaten.
Item #2-- Just another day in my “boring” life,…some
days you wish you had just stayed in bed. This was
one of those days. I was on cloud nine because that
automatic transmission that was in so many pieces in
the hanger work benches had come together somehow
and on first try performed flawlessly. But it was
minus 35 degrees this day, and I had run out of
waste oil in my tanks. Some of you think we
missionaries should be in some kind of witness
opportunity all day somewhere, but on some of these
more challenging days, we talk a lot to ourselves
and to the God of Heaven. At 35 below, the Arctic
casts a pall over all of men’s feeble plans and
endeavors. I shall try to capture and describe one
day when a missionary in the Arctic north runs out
of waste heating oil.
The 500 gallon oil tank rests on a trailer and is
covered with snow and hoar frost, listing to one
side due to a flat tire. I observe this with the
help of a mini-mag AA flashlight that I carry in a
holster—my weapon against the darkness. I have an
air compressor in the hangar and a small portable
air tank, but the compressor’s oil is too thick at
-35 degrees to turn over, so I must pre-heat it with
a space heater using #1 stove oil, not #2. It’s
still dark out at 10 AM, but I get air in the tire
and it’s a slow leak. It takes me quite a while to
back the old Suburban to the hitch in the darkness
and exhaust fumes. I notice that I myself have
cooled down in the process, so I reach into the back
of the plane and retrieve my insulated coveralls.
They are at -35 when I put them on, so I start up a
hair dryer to warm the inside of the coveralls, but
the cold coming in the back of the hair dryer is so
cold, it overcomes the BTU’s put out by the element.
The result is cold in my britches! I begin to think
that the Northern Lights in the dark December sky
put off more heat than this hair dryer! Time for a
cup of coffee. Better drink it fast!
It’s just a two mile drive to my waste oil supplier,
so just a little slipping and sliding put me beside
their waste oil tank. Soon all the air lines are
hooked up to the transfer pump, and waste oil is
flowing to my tank in the trailer. There is ice in
some of the oil so the pump and hoses plug up. The
whole system tells me its not the best waste oil day
in the world. The pump stops under pressure, so when
I release the hose fittings so I can take it all
inside their shop to thaw, pressurized oil squirts
all over me—face, glasses, jacket, pants, boots,
gloves! It will take about 3 hours to thaw the pump
out, so I have time to clean up. I at least look
like I’ve been working. Hook everything up again;
all is working well, then the air compressor in my
oil supplier’s shop goes out. Back in the shop with
all the hoses and pumps to keep warm. It's time to
call it a day because the day is mostly spent.
Item3—Another wild animal adventure
Jane
is in town teaching American Sign Language to a
small group of folks who want to work with the deaf.
I’m home doing correspondence and some coffee,
minding my own business, very passive as usual, not
wanting any trouble, but I’m a Christian realist—I’m
not overly optimistic for the sake of optimism and
not a pessimist for the sake of pessimism. My
optimistic side says, “All is well.” Jane will be
home soon with her sign language stories and will
drink some tea and discuss what ministry was
accomplished.
I will tell her of a flight coming up to the village
of Wainwright, near Barrow on the North Slope. The
missionary there needs a coal stove, a snow blower,
and some groceries. He is collecting coal that has
washed upon the beach, because stove oil is expected
to go as high as $12 gallon in some villages. He
will wish for coal in his stocking this Christmas!
The weather where he lives is so nasty that his
flight is one of my most dangerous. Plus, it’s dark
up there now 24 hours a day for about three months,
but we’ll make the flight. My new satellite phone
and GPS will go with me. I must be an absolute
realist to fly up here and survive.
My pessimistic side says this is the real world,
this is where I live and minister, and my brand of
theology says “the strong man of the home principle
dictates that I have protection for my family and
friends, the “am I my brother’s keeper “ principle.
I think every household should be armed and all
family members know how to protect, when to protect,
and to what degree.
Without notice, a large male pit bull from the
neighborhood is on the front porch, growling and
snapping at the door. Our small white Bichon lap dog
that someone gave us is in on the inside, “bravely"
returning in kind. Suddenly the pit bull jumps on
the door and the door flies open. He streaks into
our house and clamps his mouth down on little
“Bearbait” (our dog), shaking him, toppling a chair
and tipping over the garbage can, which is rolling
around scattering its contents. Leaving my desk, I
ran to this monster with teeth, grabbed his neck
chain, and slung him with all my might against the
log wall. The pit bull still had my dog in his jaws,
its life in the balance. I grabbed my 22 magnum
rifle that’s right beside my place at the table and
shot the animal in the spine with a very “fortunate”
from the hip shot. The pit bull went down, but would
not release my little dog. One more shot to the pit
bull’s brain and he turned loose of my dog and his
life. I put things in high gear, cleaned up a very
messy kitchen with lots of blood on the floor,
picked up the trash can and trash, set upright the
chair. The pit bull went to the dumpster, and the
little dog will live see another day. I’m just
hoping one of Santa’s reindeer doesn’t go nuts and
fly through my other window! I just need a quiet
Christmas on the last frontier.
The
next day, the phone rings early. A missionary has a
throbbing abscessed tooth. I lay aside my plans for
the day to make an emergency medical flight to Fort
Yukon.
Someone said, “Les, you sure lead an exciting life.”
Let me just say this: I don’t need or want more
excitement. The word “exciting” is one of the most
overused words in the Christian vocabulary today.
Let no one say, “I’ll do a Christian service as long
as it is exciting.” What about doing a Christian
service in 2007 just because it would be helpful or
just out of duty? It’s Fact--Faith--Feeling in
Christian living. Duty first, excitement later.
Thank
you for your faithfulness and generosity over the
years.
Prayer Post Script:
-
For our country in 2007 and leaders in knowing
how to fight the war;
-
For a number of supporting churches we know of
that are having various kinds of serious
problems;
-
For safety in all the winter flying;
-
For some additional funds to overhaul the
airplane engine;
-
For the young native lady we are trying to help
whom Jane met in the jail ministry;
-
For the deaf ministry—Jane is teaching a Sunday
Bible Study in American Sign Language;
-
For Christian Sportsman’s Club meetings coming
up for much fruit;
-
Praise and thanks for the progress in healing of
my leg from my slip on the plane step;
-
For and “unexciting” peaceful Christmas season
up here. (Last year, you may remember, an
unhappy married couple came over on Christmas
day and argued heatedly for an hour.
Your Far
North Flying Chaplain,
