FIRST NATION MINISTRIES, INC.
P.O. Box 30055    Portland, OR 97294
Phone: (503) 408-2391    Fax: (503) 256-8560

Issue 5

Visits No.13, 14, 15
 

October 2007
 
Dear Teammates,
 
  Day by day our earnest prayer is for God’s direction and blessing on our mission outreach to our Indian brothers and sisters.  It is most important that we be directed of God in our witness for Him!  We must go where He wants us to go at the time He wishes, and in the manner in which He directs.  We must have His hand on us or we will fail.
  Our God is faithful to open and close the doors, to rule and overrule our efforts, and to hedge us in with providential love and care.  Our cry is “His will be done, His kingdom come”, as we reach out into the darkness of the reservations.  His promise is given most clearly in Psalms 1.  Let us claim it together:  “Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful.  But his delight is in the law of the Lord; and in his law doth he meditate day and night.  And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper.”
  Let us praise Him! By His grace we shall not fail.
 
Your old missionary brother,
 
 
Don Cline

 


 
P.S.    Poetry has always been a great blessing to me.  I learned poems from my father and mother while they still held me on their knees.  Mom was a school teacher and Dad was a hard working ranch hand, logger, or whatever job was available during the big depression of the thirties and early forties.  Dad only had six years of grade school education, as his father kept him home to help run the ranch, yet he recited poems from school days.
  In the early thirties, we children attended the old Dutch Canyon School up the South fork of  Scappoose Creek in the hills of Western Oregon.  Our wonderful teacher, Mrs. Francis Gates, not only gave us a super education in reading, writing, and arithmetic, but taught us the wonder of poetry.  We learned a new poem every six week grading period.  On the last Friday afternoon before report cards were handed out, we had a program, sang a song, recited a poem, or gave a reading which we had learned.
  In the second newsletter sent out in June, I shared a poem, “The Red Sea Place in Your Life”.  The response from you dear teammates overwhelmed me.  I’ll include another one.  Let me know if it is a blessing


Bro. Don

 

LITTLE BOY BLUE

    By Eugene Field




The little toy dog is covered with dust,

But sturdy and staunch he stands;

And the little toy soldier is red with rust,

And the musket molds in his hands.

Time was when the little toy dog was new,

And the soldier was passing fair;

And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue

Kissed them and put them there.

 

“Now, don’t you go till I come,” he said,

“And don’t you make any noise!”

So, toddling off to his trundle-bed,

He dreamt of the pretty toys;

And, as he was dreaming, an angel song

Awakened our Little Boy Blue --

Oh! The years are many, the years are long,

But the little toy friends are true!

 

Aye! Faithful to Little Boy Blue they stand,

Each in the same old place

Awaiting the touch of a little hand,

The smile of a little face;

And they wonder, as waiting the long years through

In the dust of that little chair,

What has become of our Little Boy Blue,

Since he kissed them and put them there.

 

 

(This is the end of an old, old poem my mother taught me as a small child.  As an old man, I have added my own lines and God has made them a blessing to others as I have used them at many funerals.  May they bless you.)

 

 

Ah! His Daddy and Momma know, and find comfort and joy,

Though their hearts ache the many years through,

As they oft fondly look at each little toy,

And thank God for their Little Boy Blue;

For they know life on earth will soon all be o’er

And they know God’s promise is true,

With Jesus they’ll meet on Heaven’s blest shore

Together, forever, with Little Boy Blue.


Oh, Friend, let us triumph in our Lord everyday,

With loud voice, His praise let us sing,

For walking with Jesus each step of life’s way,

The grave has no victory and death has no sting!

 

 

 

MISSION VISIT #13

Thurs-Sat, July 19-21, 2007

 

     What a joy to make one more trip with my dear friend, Ted Boyd.  He has helped us so much as a board member and truck driving missionary.  We felt directed of the Lord to visit Fort McDermitt Resevation, 93 miles south of Burns on the Oregon-Nevada border.  Visiting the Baptist church, Pastor French told us his church was mainly white and the other was traditional Indian.  A third church was several miles out on the reservation and had no pastor.  Inquiring at the tribal office for directions, the receptionist exclaimed, “Oh, you need to see Ernestine Coble!  She works here and that’s her church.”  Leading us to an inner office, we met Ernestine, who was reading the book “Hearing God”.  With deep emotion she said, “God sent you!  The Wycliff Bible translator is working on the Shoshone-Paiute language, and has agreed to fill our pulpit while he’s here!  Now we have food and clothing to give out.  Praise the Lord!”

Pictures from this trip:

 

MISSION VISIT No. 14

Monday, July 30, 2007

     Sixty years ago as a young evangelist, I noticed a man about my age under deep conviction as we closed a revival meeting at Eskridge, Kansas.  Quite a number of people had found victory, but here was one still not reached.  As we prayed the final prayer, I asked if anyone whose needs were unmet would like me to pray for them as we went on to our next meeting.  That young man’s hand shot up high above his head and I will never forget the hunger and earnestness I saw on his face.  With great joy a short time later, the good Pastor wrote to me the glad news that Raymond Gilbert was saved.  What a trophy of  Divine grace Raymond has been as he led his family to Jesus, answered God’s call to the ministry, and went to Bible school and college.  He has faithfully served these many years as pastor, evangelist, teacher, and friend!  His ministry to the deaf has been story book!  Now we are both old preachers and what a joyful, blessed day of fellowship we had as we ministered to our Indian friends at Celilo Village.

Pictures from this trip:

 

MISSION VISIT No. 15

Friday, August 31, 2007

      Archaeology shows that before Jesus was born, the “Salmon People” fished at Celilo.  Yakimas, Warm Springs, Umatillas, and Nez Perce joined them for the salmon run.  This ended  on March 10, 1957, when The Dalles Dam flooded the falls.  Treaty promised housing was forgotten.  A few Salmon People, who did not wish to leave their sacred site, lived in trailers and shacks on higher ground.  Finally, the government has moved in temporary housing and is building 14 new homes.  The Corps of Engineers is also working on restoring 31 fishing sites.  Brother Howard Ramsey joined First Nation Ministries in taking food, clothing, and Bibles to show that our motto, “Christians that care about First Americans”, is a fact, not just words.

Pictures from this trip: