During World War II, Lieutenant Jack Richards was shot down in the southwestern Pacific Ocean. His plane sank almost as soon as it hit the water. Rolling over on his back, he floated for some time in his rubber suit, thankful that he had escaped without being injured. But for all he knew, he might be in enemy territory. Anyway, he knew he was stranded.
Darkness began to creep over the ocean, and Jack could just make out the wooded outlines of an island. He decided to swim to it. But distances were confusing, and he wondered if he could swim that far. Overhead he could see the star of the Southern Cross. Thoughts of home raced through his mind as he swam on. Ahead he could see the island dimly outlined by the moonlight. Jack prayed for strength and help, talking to the Lord Jesus Christ, that blessed One whom he loved and who was his Saviour.
It was after midnight when he reached the shore. He crawled into a cave and thanked the Lord Jesus for helping him. Exhausted and hungry, he soon fell asleep.
In the morning he awakened to see the sun through the fringe of bushes. What would he find on the island? Well, he would soon know! Emerging from his “hotel room,” he looked around. Everything was still; the island was thick with trees and other brush.
Carefully, he slipped along through the cover of the brush, feeling that he was being watched, but seeing no one. Toward noon he saw an open space ahead and approached more slowly. Then a bend in the path exposed a little building that looked like a little church. Throwing caution to the wind, Jack broke from cover and ran. He lifted the latch, and the door swung open. Sure enough, it was a little church building. Kneeling down, he gave thanks to God for saving his life and asked Him for further help and safety. Rising, he went back outside, closing the door behind him. He was startled to see at the edge of the clearing a large group of natives - men, women and children.
Connecting them in his mind with the little church building, Jack began to greet them with words and smiles and motions, only to be met with a stony silence. Puzzled to know what else to do since they did not understand English, he began to sing. He first tried “Amazing Grace,” but there was no response from the natives. He tried another hymn, “What a Friend We Have in Jesus,” but the result was the same. Again he spoke to them, but there was not the slightest response. The natives watched every move he made. They did not seem to be hostile, just curious.
He decided to try one more song. He began a favorite childhood hymn that everyone knows, “Jesus Loves Me.” Instantly those faces came to life, rippling with smiles. By the time the first verse was finished, Jack was almost overwhelmed by their friendliness. They soon brought him food and drink, and the next day they helped him to return to his camp.
God’s care of Jack brought him to a place where he could be rescued by those who also loved his Saviour. Although they could not speak the same language, their hearts were the same, because of the blood of the Lord Jesus Christ.
ML-11/14/2004