Last Friday, May 6, Uni felt an urge to call
Gracie, the daughter of our old friend Gladis Gibson, in El Paso, TX. We had heard that Gladis was in hospice care
and her health was rapidly declining.
When Gracie answered, Uni said simply,
"I called to ask how your mother is doing?"
Gracie replied, "She passed this
morning."
This was not a blow to us, as we had known it
was coming for quite awhile; nevertheless, we still grieved. Gladis would have been 92 on her next
birthday.
We had known Gladis for over 60 years. She and her husband Bill had had a great
influence on our walk with Christ during that period. I was honored to do Bill's memorial service
in 2009 when he went to be with the Lord.
I first met Gladis and Bill in 1956. I was 19 years old and it had been only a
year since I had committed my life to Christ.
"Churchy" things were still new to me. I knew that the little church we attended
supported foreign missionaries, but at first my opinion of missionaries was
that they were social misfits, isolationists, old maids - people who couldn't
make it in the "real world."
Two events happened to change that opinion.
The first was a news item about what the
world considered a horrible tragedy. On
a sandy beach along an unknown river deep in the jungles of Ecuador, a number
of young American missionaries were savagely killed by members of a tribe known
then as Aucas. The reports of their
discovery made headlines throughout the country. LIFE magazine did a huge spread of pictures. Radio and TV commentators discussed the
event. It was, for much of America, a
first exposure to independent missions and to many it seemed senseless. But this event had an impact on many in my
generation.
The second was the meeting with the Gibsons,
then in their 30's, not long after that event.
Bill was from our little church in Michigan and Gladis was from
Oklahoma. They had met in Bible college
and had been sent out by our church as missionaries with Gospel Missionary
Union, an independent mission organization.
They were at the time on a one year furlough from serving in the jungles
of Ecuador.
Bill and Gladis had served with those
martyred men and their families. They
were dear friends and had known of the plans to bring the Gospel of Christ to
this stone-age tribe that had never had contact with "civilization"
before. They had prayed and planned with
these men and their wives and families.
Bill regaled us and our church youth group with stories of their
adventures in the jungles. He had even
flown over the Auca village with Nate Saint, the missionary pilot, one of the
martyrs.
The Gibsons were not simply good story
tellers, they were normal people, yet people who had given their lives
completely to Christ, and they spoke of those martyred men as being ordinary
people just as they were. I was
impressed with Gladis when she played softball with us at a church picnic; she
was stronger than many of us men. She
could hit harder and run faster than any of us.
As she later confessed, "I spend a great amount of my time trekking
and sometimes running, through the jungle."
The Gibsons took Uni and me under their
wings. They mentored us - not by
teaching us theology or how-tos, but simply by modeling the Christian life.
Later, when we moved from Michigan to Texas,
we lost track of each other for a few years.
Then when I was attending Dallas Theological Seminary, Bill looked me up
and found me in the coffee room. The
Gibsons were then serving in El Paso as directors of GMU's ministry in South
Texas and Northern Mexico. The
friendships resumed.
Down through the years, Bill Gibson would
sometimes speak at churches I pastored.
They'd also sing and Gladis would play her accordion. I was privileged to be the speaker at the
biennial retreats held for the South Texas missionaries, as well as in the
little chapel where they were active.
Sometimes I would receive a phone call from Gladis informing me,
"Our church bulletin says that you will be preaching on _______.” We'd make arrangements at home, jump in the
car and drive to El Paso for the service.
Gladis and Bill never ceased being
missionaries for Christ, even after they retired. They continued to serve in Grace Chapel in El
Paso. They started a Bible study in the
mobile home park where they lived; it's still going on. Gladis served as an R.N. in a clinic. When she could no longer care for herself and
needed to live in an independent living facility, she immediately started some
Bible studies in both English and Spanish, with other residents and the
care-giving personnel.
"Precious in the
eyes of the LORD is the death of His saints." Psalm 116:15
(Also see: THECHURCH OF THE OPEN DOOR.)
