God at the Controls Part Four: Escape

Note to parents and teachers: Because of the nature of this story, please read beforehand and be sure it is appropriate for your audience.

The branch cracked loudly under Paul's foot. He froze, but everything was quiet. Paul breathed, "Thank you, Lord!" and went on. Soon he was on the trail to the airplane. The woods and trail were wet with rain.

"Thank you, Lord. The leaves make much less noise this way," he said inwardly.

Paul's "thank-yous" and steps both came faster and faster as he headed toward the plane. But the night was pitch black. He lost the trail and got tangled up in thick vines and bushes.

Paul groped his way back to the trail and stooped over so he could feel the path with his hands as he moved forward.

Finally, Paul got to the spot where he thought the plane would be, but there was no plane! In the blackness of the night, he thought he saw a house. Paul felt confused. He didn't remember a house there. Had he taken a wrong trail somehow?

He crept up to the house and put out his hand to feel it. It was the airplane! It was covered with black plastic, logs and palm leaves.

"Oh, no!" thought Paul. “Now I have to get rid of all this stuff before I can even turn the airplane around!"

What an enormous job! And at any time, the guerrillas might discover he was missing. Well, he would just have to keep trusting God to keep them asleep or blind and deaf until he was gone.

Paul shoved off wet palm and logs and tore off the plastic. Then he wiped the whole airplane off with his outstretched arms and prayed for strength to move the plane.

He tugged the airplane back and forth. Whoops! Ouch! He slipped and hurt his back. Paul took off his shoes so he could get a better grip with his toes. With his shoes in his hand, he suddenly remembered the key in the shoe lining.

"Man! I don't want to lose that!" he gasped. Paul stuck the key deep in his pocket and kept on working. He tugged and pulled, tugged and pulled.

Once, the airplane was really stuck. Feeling his way along the plane, he found that the tailwheel was up against a stump. Paul prayed for strength to lift the tail of the plane up over the stump.

Finally, the airplane was turned around and headed the right way. Now, he had to make sure the runway was clear. Still barefoot, Paul felt his way to the runway. He found one 55-gallon barrel at the runway entrance, which he moved to the side.

When Paul got back to the plane, he was all worn out! He climbed in, put on his seat belt and turned to pull the door shut. Suddenly he heard three heavy footsteps: Crunch! Crunch! Crunch! They were a man's footsteps, coming from the head of the path.

"They're here!" he thought. "What do I do?" But no one shone a light. The last footstep stopped a meter or so away. Ever since Paul had left his bed that night, he had sensed God with him every second. God had helped him through so much. It was not time to turn back now! No! Quickly he shut and locked the door and started the motor. The noisy old engine cranked up right away!

Since this was a jungle plane, Paul had never flown it at night. Now he found that the landing lights didn't work — only the little taxi light, which didn't help much. Besides that, the windows were all steamed up. Paul grabbed a towel, wiped the windows quickly then taxied forward. The wiping didn't do much good. Outside, a heavy fog covered everything.

At the runway Paul couldn't see a thing in the fog. "Lord, why? You've brought me this far and now I can't see to take off."

God seemed to say, "Go!"

Paul held the door open with his shoulder to see better, poured on the power, hung out the door until he was up in the air and then closed the door.

Up he went — 30 meters — 60 meters — l00 meters ... aaaaaaaah! He was above the trees. Paul's heart swelled with one deep, long "Thank you, Lord!"

There was still one problem: what if the guerrillas tried to shoot him down? Then Paul understood why the fog was there. The guerrillas couldn't see him. Now Paul thanked God for the fog!

As the plane climbed over l,000 meters, Paul checked for the first time to see what time it was. The clock on the panel said l:58 a.m. Oh no. That meant he needed to land by 3:20 in the morning. It would still be totally dark.

Set this bird down while it's still dark? It seemed impossible! But hadn't God just helped him to do the impossible? "You got me up here safely," prayed Paul. "I believe you can get me back on the ground again safely."

At about 3,000 meters, Paul broke out of the clouds into the clear night. Wow! The sky was full of brilliant stars as far as he could see in every direction, and a sliver of a moon shone brightly.

Paul exclaimed, "Lord, how awesome You are! How magnificently powerful!"

Up there in the heavens, Paul praised and praised God. There just weren't enough words to pour out his thanksgiving to Him. As Paul flew through the night, he thanked God for each little detail of the escape.

Paul was so glad that he had gotten away from the guerrillas. But now he had another reason for wanting to get back to the mission headquarters. He knew things that nobody else knew about the group that was holding Tim, Bunny and Steve captive. What he knew might be used to help free them.

Now Paul needed to land before the plane ran out of fuel. He descended to 700 meters. He could smell burnt grasslands. That was a good sign — there should be flat land nearby.

Soon Paul's little taxi light spotted the ground. He saw brush, high clumps of termite nests and mounds of anthills — not good for landing, and he could only see right where the taxi light shone.

Suddenly there were trees right in front of him! Paul jerked back on the yoke, and the plane lifted over the trees. The plane was very light since it had almost no fuel, so it responded to his touch very easily. Coming down again, Paul kept looking for a place to land. More trees! Up and over again.

Paul could hardly believe how calm he felt. When he flew over a fourth clump of trees, the light shone on a fence row.

"Pasture!" thought Paul, and he set the plane down, applying the brakes as hard as he could. Quickly, the plane came to a stop, and he turned off the motor.

"Thank you, Lord!" Paul didn't know where he was, but he was safe on the ground, far away from the guerrillas.

It was still pitch black. In the darkness Paul felt all around the outside of the plane. He could not feel even one little scratch. Again, he could only say, "Thank you, Lord!"

The clock on the instrument panel said 3:23 a.m. When it became light, Paul would need to figure out where he was, but for now there was nothing he could do but wait. He tried to sleep but was too excited. He ended up using the hours of darkness to pray, especially for Tim, Bunny and Steve.

As soon as it was light, Paul climbed out of the plane. Then he saw what a real miracle his landing had been. On the other side of the fence were about 250 cows.

He gasped. "Lord, You knew I couldn't have landed over there!"

He walked to the opposite side of the plane and saw another fence. Beyond that fence was a stream, trees and anthills. He could not have landed there either. Behind him was that last clump of trees he had flown over. And in front was a swamp with palm trees. Talk about landing in just the right spot! "That's God!" he whispered.

Paul saw a man on horseback riding his direction. Paul went out to meet him, and the man was able to tell him the name and location of the closest town. He even invited Paul to breakfast at his ranch, but Paul was eager to call on the radio. He got his call through to his mission headquarters around 6:30 that morning, and soon there was help on the way.

If Paul could have just seen what went on at the other end that morning! Twenty people crowded around the radio, all trying to hear Paul's voice.

Someone sent word quickly to Paul's wife, Pat, who came running from her house in stockinged feet.

Pat had been amazed that during the time that Paul was held captive, she didn't feel upset. But then she heard from one person after another how many people were praying both day and night.

One older missionary lady, known as "Grandma Poulsen," had spent long hours praying into the night. She had told Pat that God would bring Paul back soon and that he would tell them his own story with tears in his eyes.

Now Pat ran across the airstrip and football field, faster than she had run in years, to get to the radio. Afterwards she walked home with Grandma Poulsen.

"Oh, Pat," Grandma said. "In the night God seemed to stop me from praying for all four of those who had been kidnapped and had me pray very hard for Paul. I seemed to see him trying to escape, as though he were swimming.

"Pat, dear, I wasn't dreaming. I was just sitting up in my bed praying. And God seemed to show me that Paul really needed my help in prayer. So, I prayed on until God gave me peace."

Later that morning, when the sound of the plane filled the air, all the people at the mission headquarters, even the school children, ran out to meet Paul. Paul's eyes were so misted with tears of joy that he could hardly see to land and park the plane.

That afternoon everyone met in the schoolhouse to hear Paul tell his story.

He showed how he had cleared off the wings of the plane — his eyes closed as though blind in the dark, his arms making the motion of a breaststroke to show how he had cleared the stuff away.

Pat remembered what Grandma Poulsen had seen when she was praying in the night: "He was escaping as though swimming." She got up and went round to hug Grandma Poulsen.

"Oh, Grandma," Pat whispered. "I do believe God let you in on what was happening as you prayed!"