Change

Alaska Coastal Grumman Goose in Pelican

This is vacation time around America. People take to the road, to the air, or to the sea. As I look back at the Twentieth Century, I am amazed at the changes that took place in air travel and in transportation in general during that time.

Now, 19 years into the Twenty-First Century, the changes in technology, and in communications, affecting every phase of life, would shock even my grandparents, who had lived through nearly a century of change. These only represent all of the changes we encounter in life that can amaze or unsettle anyone.

Every summer as a child in the fifties, I flew on an Alaska Coastal Airlines Grumman Goose from Juneau to Pelican, Alaska, to visit my Personeus grandparents for two or three months. The eight-passenger amphibious plane took off and landed on the waters of Southeast Alaska, where no roads connected the many islands, large and small. It flew up close and personal over the tops of snow-capped mountains and blue or stormy seas.

Since 2000, my husband and I have driven across the continent from New York to Washington State almost annually to visit friends and family, six to ten days each way. Now, we jet across the continent in six hours.

Born in 1888, my grandparents had already witnessed the transition from horse and buggy to the automobile and the Wright Brothers first flight by the time they went to Alaska in 1917. To get there, they traveled by train from Rochester, New York, to Buffalo, where they caught a steamer across Lake Erie to Detroit. From there, they again boarded other trains to take them across the country to the West Coast. In Seattle, they boarded another steamship to sail up the Inside Passage to Juneau. The entire trip took two months.

Regularly scheduled air travel around Southeast Alaska didn't begin until the mid-thirties, first with Ellis Airlines out of Ketchikan, and a few years later, with Alaska Coastal Airlines out of Juneau. Most people, however, traveled by boat--steamers, mail boats, or private fishing vessels. My grandparents didn't fly. Grandma was afraid to try it.

Fairtide II in Pelican 1948

After World War II, their son, Byron, began operating a gospel mission boat, Fairtide II, around Southeast Alaska. My grandparents joined him and his wife on the boat. When my parents returned to Alaska from Bible school in Pennsylvania, bringing me, a two-year-old, and my younger brother, Uncle Byron met us in Ketchikan with his mission boat and took us to Pelican to join the rest of the family in building the Pelican church. My earliest memory is of a big storm on that boat trip.

When my folks moved to Juneau for the birth of my sister in 1948, my dad was hired by Alaska Coastal Airlines as boss of cargo. As an employee, one of his perks was free air travel for him and our family. I began flying to Pelican when I was 3 years old. My father would put me in the seat next to the pilot. My grandparents would meet me at the float in Pelican, When it was time for me to return home, my dad would arrange for me to again sit by the pilot. My dad met me in Juneau.

Alaska Coastal Airlines Grumman Goose at the Hangar in Juneau 1953

Grandma was in her early sixties by then and had decided that flying was more than she could handle. The boat trips around the islands were bad enough, but to fly through thin air was more than she cared to experience. She thought she was too old to fly.

But one day as she put me, her eldest but still preschool-aged grandchild, on the Grumman Goose and saw me sit trustingly in the cockpit with the pilot who would deliver me to my father, she thought, "If that little child can put so much trust in her father's wishes, then I must overcome my fear of flying and trust my Heavenly Father to take care of me." After that, Grandma flew all over Alaska and the continental United States many times over the next 30 years.

PNA "Connie"

In 1961, as a teenager, I was flying home from Seattle alone on a Pacific Northern Airlines "Connie," a popular, four-engine plane. As we flew over the rugged Chugach Mountains toward Anchorage, the propeller outside my window fluttered to a stop. My heart nearly stopped too!

The pilot made no announcement so I surmised we could make it to Anchorage on three engines, but staring down into sharp, snow-covered peaks that yawned like an open shark's jaw below, I shivered to think of crashing.

Then a still, small voice reminded me that "underneath are the Everlasting Arms." Since then, whenever I fly, I remind myself of that verse and sit back and enjoy the flight.

In 1968, Alaska Airlines bought up Alaska Coastal and Ellis Airlines, built runways in the towns along the Inside Passage, and began flying cargo and passenger jets into towns on islands with no road connections. Private and tourist float planes still land on the water in tiny villages such as Pelican and on beautiful inlets and coves to see glaciers and waterfalls, but jets now land on runways built out into the sea in the larger towns..

In 2017, Bob and I flew back to Juneau for the 100th anniversary celebration of the church my grandparents founded in 1917. We flew the evening Alaska Airlines Boeing 737 "milk run." Our flight stopped at Ketchikan and Sitka before landing in Juneau.

When we emerged from the fog at sea level at Sitka, all we could see was whitecaps beneath us until the wheels hit the runway. Surrounded by mountains and sea, with frequent stormy weather conditions, and waves crashing against it even on clear days, the runway at Sitka is considered one of the scariest in the US.

Sitka Airport

I've been flying since 1948. When I think of all the changes, both good and bad, in my lifetime and add that to the changes in my grandparents' lifetime, I can't help but think of a line in that old hymn, Abide With Me:

"Change and decay in all around I see; O Thou who changest not, abide with me." 

And I am comforted that in all of life's changes, the Lord has been walking with me all the way. One day, He'll lead me safely Home.



If you'd like to read more about Alaska from gold rush to statehood and beyond, you may enjoy my historical books set in that time period. You can find them at my website (click here).

How to Start Being What You'd Like to Become

When I was a freshman at Seattle Pacific College (now University) in 1963-64, our dorm mother, Mrs. Marie Hollowell, often held meetings with us girls in her apartment. I'll never forget what she said at one such meeting:

"When are you going to start being 

what you'd like to become?"

The Cousart & Personeus Family in Pelican Parsonage
(I am front right of my brother & sister. My parents are on left.
Grandma & Grandpa in center.
Uncle Byron & Aunt Marjory Personeus on right.)

As I heard those words, I thought of my Grandma Personeus. She was my role model. My brother, sister, and I had spent nearly every summer of my grade school years with her and Grandpa in Pelican, a tiny fishing village on a large island in Southeast Alaska.

Pelican in 1953

Having young children night and day for three months is not easy when you are in your sixties, yet I could not recall Grandma ever speaking harshly or impatiently to any of us. She was always up and fixing breakfast when we got up in the morning and was the last one to go to sleep at night. After we were in bed, she wrote letters until the wee hours to keep up her correspondence with hundreds of people around the world in her beautiful schoolgirl handwriting. She was the sweetest person I knew, and she loved us and all the other children in town unconditionally.

The church in Pelican built by my family in 1948

I thought about all the older women I had known. Some were sweet, and some were crotchety. Oh, they were good people, but no one was as consistently loving and kind as Grandma. I decided I'd like to become a sweet little old lady like her. 

As I recalled the stories Grandma had told us about her childhood, I realized she had not had an easy life. Her father was demanding, strict, and harsh. 

One time, she was bitten by a beetle that took a small chunk out of her nose. As children will, she kept picking at the scab so that it was not healing. Her father scolded her and promised to spank her if she did it again. 

The next morning she awoke to discover that her rough-textured nightgown had scratched the scab off. At the breakfast table her father noticed and told her to go to her room and await the promised punishment.

A very sensitive child, she was so terrified of her father that when she tried to explain what  had  happened, she trembled so hard she couldn't speak coherently. Sobbing, all she could utter was, "My gruff gright grown scratched it off!"

Her mother had to intervene and explain what she was trying to say.

As children, we thought that story was funny, and that is how she told it, laughing at her twisted words. But thinking about it as an adult, I could see that it showed how much she feared  her father.

The eighth of eleven living children (two others had died in infancy), she was allowed to only complete the first eight grades, although she loved school and longed to go to high school. When her older brothers and sisters left home to be missionaries, Their father disowned and disinherited them for not doing what he wanted them to do. Grandma was forced to leave school and take over their chores of printing and distributing the newspaper her father wrote and published.

Grandma & Grandpa Personeus in 1959

When Grandma left home at the age of 21 to study for the missionfield, she too was disowned and disinherited. She was not allowed to return to the family home again. 

By the time I  went to college, she and Grandpa had spent nearly 50 years as missionaries in Southeast Alaska, living by faith under often less than favorable living conditions, but she never complained. She had survived many serious falls on ice and snow as well as several life-threatening illnesses, but she didn't let those hardships deter her from her mission, caring for the sick and taking in orphaned children, cleaning and washing clothes on a washboard.

As I  pondered what made her different from so many others, I realized that she had allowed the trials of her life to make her better not bitter. She loved the Lord, communing with Him daily and continually putting the needs of others ahead of her own. She unselfishly served people out of love. Children and young people enjoyed being with her, listening to her stories of their early days in Alaska.  She often told us,

"The way spell true J-O-Y is to put 

Jesus first, Others second, and Yourself last."

My observations showed me that no one becomes like Grandma Personeus just by growing old. We become what we have practiced throughout our lives. Those who love and serve others in spite of their own difficulties grow sweeter, and people love to be around them. Those who think only of themselves grow even more selfish, and and people tend to avoid them.

As a freshman girl, I determined to become a sweet little old lady. That's been my life's goal. I've striven to that end. I'm old now, and I'm not completely there yet, but I'm still working on what I'd like to become--to be like Grandma, and to be like Jesus.

Are you becoming what you'd like to become? What do you need to change today?

To read more about the Personeuses, visit my website, www.annaleeconti.com, where you can order my book, Frontiers of Faith, the story of Charles C. and Florence Personeus, Pioneer Missionaries to Alaska, "The Last Frontier," 1917-1982, directly from the publisher.

The Personeuses are the inspiration for my Alaskan Waters Trilogy, a set of inspirational novels based on true stories they told. (The Penningtons in my fiction stories are based on the Personeuses.) They are also available from my website.

Come Wind and High Water

In the 1930s, while my grandparents, Charles and Florence Personeus, were pastoring the Assemblies of God church they'd pioneered in Juneau, Alaska, a young mother who was dying of an incurable kidney disease, began attending. Helen Johnson had already had one diseased kidney removed, and the other was infected too. The doctors gave her six month to live.

Helen loved children but had only been able to have one little girl of her own. Seeing all the dirty, neglected children on the streets of Juneau, she complained to God, "I wanted my child, and You are going to take me from her. It's not fair!"

The Lord spoke to her heart, "Open your home to those neglected children."

"All right, Lord. You know I'm dying, but if that's what You want me to do, I'll do it."

Her husband, Lyle, not yet a believer, agreed to help her.

Helen Johnson is shown at right front holding little girl on her lap.

At church, Helen learned about the Lord, our Healer. In answer to prayer according to James 5:14, 15, she was completely healed. The home she opened and operated for many years became known as the Juneau Children's Home. When she died 40 years later, her one kidney was still functioning perfectly. (The rest of the story is in my book, Frontiers of Faith.)

The first girl the Johnsons took into their home was Lillian Lorraine Lehtosaari. Her mother had died, and Lillian, though young, had been a dancer and performer with her father. When he tried to commit suicide, she went to live with the Johnsons.

Lillian remained with them until she left for Bible school, where she met and married Alvin E. Capener. For many years, they ministered among the Eskimos and Aleuts in Alaska, building churches in Nome, Barrow, and on Saint Paul Island, one of the Pribilof Islands in the Bering Sea. The Capeners were longtime friends of my family.

In 1975, the Capeners visited me when I was working as an editorial assistant for youth magazines at the Headquarters of the Assemblies of God in Springfield, Missouri. They shared this testimony, which I wrote up for publication in Youth Alive:

Off the western coast of Alaska, Saint Paul Island is the summer home and mating grounds for the fur seal. At that time, the U.S. government operated the multi-million dollar seal industry. Since the government owned the land, the Capeners were not allowed to purchase land for the mission. Instead, the government assigned them a lot on a use permit. This lot was in a low-lying area of the barren, treeless island that had been formed by several "extinct" volcanoes.

On Christmas Day, 1966, 90-mile-an-hour winds pumped unusually high tides into low-lying areas above the beach line on Saint Paul Island, flooding the Capeners' mission station and their 1960 Rambler that had been provided to them by Speed-the Light, a funding raising effort of youth across the United States, to be used for carrying people to and from church. Upon delivery, the Capeners had dedicated it to the Lord.

The 1960 Rambler was inundated with salt sea water to the dashboard. Everyone said, "It'll never run again. Better just leave it set."

Undaunted, Capener replied, "I dedicated it to the Lord. I'm going to try to start it anyway." He flushed out everything with fresh water: the motor, carburetor, crankcase, transmission, differential, and generator. It started!

After the flood, the government assigned them a new lot in a better location for the parsonage and a new church building. That Rambler was used to haul more than 200 tons of building materials for the church, carrying as much as 1,400 pounds of rock at one time. It carried "scoria" (volcanic ash used in place of gravel, which is not available on the island), sand, lumber, rock for the retaining wall for the parking lot and for the lower four feet of the exterior of the church, and material for manufacturing 30 cubic yards of cement.

The only problem was with the electrical connections, but that did not prevent the car from operating. Though the body rusted badly, and Capener had to weld the trunk lid on three times before it could no longer be welded and was discarded, that Rambler ran for eight more years.

In 1972, Speed-the-Light purchased a second used car for the Capeners, a 1970 Dodge Dart, for carrying passengers, but the Rambler was still used for hauling supplies and refuse until it was finally junked in 1974, eight years after the Christmas Day flood.

Reminds me of the Children of Israel in the Wilderness. For forty years, their clothes and sandals did not wear out. God still provides for His children.

God's Law of Returns

Courtesy versaday.com

When I first read that verse in Ecclesiastes 11:1, I was puzzled. Since I don't even like gravy on bread, that word picture of soggy bread didn't appeal to me.

Then I came across this translation in the New Living Translation: "Send your grain across the seas, and in time, profits will flow back to you." In other words, "Give generously, for your gifts will return to you later."

Now, that makes sense. Here's how it worked out in the lives of two people whose names you will recognize:

The son of a gardener on an estate in Scotland dreamed of becoming a medical doctor. Neither he nor his dad could figure out how such a huge financial undertaking could be met.

Weekend visitors arrived at the castle. One of them, a boy, went swimming in the pool. He developed cramps and was about to drown when the gardener's son leaped into the water and saved him. The father of the swimmer was so overjoyed at the rescue that he offered to reward the rescuer.

"What can I do to help the lad?" he asked the rescuer's father.

The gardener related their dream that the son become a physician. "If you could help him to go to school, that would mean more to my son than anything else in the world."

Upon hearing the request, the swimmer's father said, "That's it! We will see him through his education." And through this generosity, Alexander Fleming became a doctor of medicine.

Years later, the boy who nearly drowned, Winston Churchill, became Prime Minister of England. While on a trip to Egypt, he was stricken with virulent pneumonia. Aides thought he was going to die.

A new drug, however, had just been discovered by Dr. Alexander Fleming--penicillin. Dr. Fleming heard of Mr. Churchill's illness. He flew to Egypt to administer the new medication. The results were miraculous, and Churchill recovered completely.

c AnnaLee Conti 2002

In 1948, my grandparents, Charles and Florence Personeus, pioneer missionaries to Alaska, were asked to build a church in Pelican. The town donated land, but it needed to be cleared. Windfalls twelve trees deep covered the site, and my grandparents had no tools. An old logger they had befriends thirty years earlier supplied them with hand tools for the mammoth task.*


When we planted a new church in Gloversville, New York, in the late seventies, we spent much time over a two-year period ministering to a young couple that was separated when we met. God saved their marriage (see God Saved Our Marriage), and they became faithful workers in the church--until a job-transfer moved them out of state. We knew God was building lives, not just churches, but their move was a great loss to our new church.

That summer, our Fellowship's biennial General Council was being held in St. Louis, Missouri, in August. We really felt the need of going to receive personal encouragement and fellowship, but as pioneer pastors, we had no funds available for such a trip.

Then a letter arrived from the couple that had recently moved away, thanking us for all we had done to help them reestablish their marriage. They enclosed a check and a note telling us to use the money for something special for ourselves. It was the exact amount we needed to go to General Council.

We have learned that we can never outgive God. It may not come back in kind, but God has promised, "Give, and it will be given to you; good measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over will be put into your bosom," (Luke 6:38, NKJV).

I'd love to hear about a time when God has proven that promise in your life.

*Excerpt from my book, Frontiers of Faith.

Blast from the Past

I thought I had collected all the historical memorabilia about my missionary grandparents, Charles C. and Florence L. Personeus, when I wrote my book, Frontiers of Faith, about their adventures of living by faith in Alaska from 1917 to 1982.

Then last week I received an unexpected call. The Alaska Ministry Network of the Assemblies of God in Alaska is writing a book of the history of the Assemblies of God in a Alaska for their centennial celebration coming up in 2017.

Since my grandparents were the first missionaries from our Fellowship to go to Alaska and they spent 65 years ministering there, their story would be featured in the book.

As Jack Aiken, the designated writer, gathered materials for the book, he had found a box some unknown person had left at the ministry office in Anchorage. The items in the box, according to Jack, were more of a personal nature, probably of interest only to the family.

He described photos, cards, postcards, memo books and tablets containing my grandma's writing. When he read a signature on several tiny greeting cards from 1908 to 1912, it caught my ear. I recognized it as my grandma's great-aunt Salome, who had spent 40 years as a missionary in India and had influenced Grandma to become a missionary too.

"We'd be happy to send you the box," Jack said.

I thanked him. After chatting about the early days in Alaska, we said goodbye.

When the box arrived, I looked through it eagerly. What fun to see what it contained!

Grandma never had been able to throw things away. And she had carried on an extensive correspondence with hundreds of people, sending birthday cards and letters to everyone she ever met in their travels across the United States to itinerate for support. When at the age of ninety, due to health concerns, she and Grandpa had to move from Alaska to Washington State to live with my parents, much had been finally discarded.

Where did this box come from? The personal nature of the items obviously indicated that they had belonged to Grandma, and she had saved them for sentimental reasons. Yet, they were not items she would have given to anyone but family. None of our family have lived in Alaska since the 1980s. Who donated them to the Ministry office in Anchorage will probably forever remain a mystery.

One 3 1/2 x 6-inch little booklet among the personal items caught my eye: "A Hand Book of Vacation Trips in Alaska and the Yukon on the White Pass and Yukon Route," printed in the United States in 1938. Its 55 pages contain historical background, descriptions of points of interest, and photos of scenic routes, complete with train and boat schedules, distances, and fares.

This guidebook confirms and clarifies all the extensive research I have done online for the historical background for the major setting of the third book I am currently writing in my Alaskan Waters series of historical Christian fiction.

Grandma is no longer here to answer my questions about the early days, but this booklet she saved does.

Is that coincidence? I think not!

Empty Bins

My grandparents, Charles and Florence Personeus, who went to Alaska as pioneer missionaries in 1917, were greatly influenced by accounts of the faith ministry of George Mueller (1805-1898), an evangelist and director of a large orphanage in England (see previous posts). When Mueller's orphanage had a need, he did not ask people for aid but took it directly to God in prayer.

Charles & Florence Personeus
Married April 5, 1916

A little more than a year after the newly married Personeuses arrived in Alaska, a deadly flu epidemic struck Juneau. Schools were closed, all public meetings were cancelled, and quarantine signs were placed on the door of every house where someone was sick. Many people died.

When the epidemic finally ended, many children were left without a mother or father, so the Personeuses started a children's home.
The Personeuses had little money to support the children's home, but they trusted God to supply the needs for rent of a big house, coal for heat, and food and clothing for the children.

Soon, they had many mouths to feed. Twice a week, Mrs. Personeus had to bake 18 loaves of bread. That required a lot of flour, which they kept in a large bin.

One morning, Mrs. Personeus prepared to bake bread, only to  discover that the flour bin was empty. When she told her husband, he took out his wallet and showed her it was empty too.

Then, Mr. Personeus discovered that the coal bin was nearly empty too. In Alaska, that was serious. The temperature outside often went way below freezing during the long winters months. Even in the summer, it was too cool to go without heat in the house.

Remembering how George Mueller had led his orphans in prayer when they needed food for breakfast and the Lord had supplied, Mr. Personeus asked his wife, "Can you sing the Doxology over these empty bins?"

"I can," she answered.

They gathered the children together and explained, "We don't have any flour for bread or coal for heat."

The children's eyes opened wide. A few of the little ones even began to cry.

"Don't cry or be afraid," Mr Personeus said. "Remember, God is our Heavenly Father. He knows what we need. He will take care of us. We're going to sing the Doxology and praise God for the supply of all our needs."

They trooped to the flour bin, joined hands, and began to sing, "Praise God from whom all blessings flow...." They sang the Doxology again around the coal bin. The children left for school, and the Personeuses went about their duties for the day, trusting God to supply their needs.

Mid-morning, Mrs. Personeus heard a knock at the door. A man she didn't know stood there carrying a huge sack of flour. "Thought you might be able to use this," he said as he carried the sack into the kitchen. Then, he brought in a second sack of flour.

"Oh, thank you!" Mrs. Personeus said. "It's just what we need!"

A little while later, another knock sounded at the door. "I have a load of coal for you," said the man.

"But we didn't order any coal today," Mrs. Personeus told him.

"I know, but this coal is for you, and it's all paid for." And he proceeded to fill up the coal bin.

The Personeuses never did learn who had provided the flour and coal that day, but what a time of praise and thanksgiving they had after school when they all gathered around full bins and again sang, "Praise God from whom all blessings flow..."!

Has God ever supplied a need of yours in answer to prayer? I'd would love to hear about it.

(More stories of the Personeuses' 65 years in Alaska are recorded in my book, Frontiers of Faith, available at www.annaleeconti.com and Amazon.com.)

How God Used My Book to Build a New Missionary's Faith

How God Used My Book, Frontiers of Faith, to Build a New Missionary's Faith

As an author, my greatest joy is to hear that a book I have written has encouraged a reader. Last month, I met a new missionary who was going to the exact mission field where my great aunt had ministered for forty years. While we talked about that, I felt I should give the lady a copy of my book, Frontiers of Faith, which tells the story of how my grandparents, Charles and Florence Personeus, went to Alaska as pioneer missionaries in 1917 entirely by faith--with no promise of support.

To order book, go to www.annaleeconti.com 

Last week, I received an e-mail from my new missionary friend, telling of how God performed a miracle for her too as she read my book. She gave me permission to share it:

"I was going to write you after I finished reading Frontiers of Faith, but I feel like now is an appropriate time to tell you how much your book is impacting me. I am in the middle of it right now.

"I've been on a trip to Headquarters this past week and just arrived yesterday. My vehicle began making an awful noise two days ago, and I still had hours left to drive. The noise was terribly bad. I prayed and asked people I knew to pray. I did not have time to get it checked out until I arrived here yesterday. I was trying to have the right attitude, but I just felt sick about it. My car is old, and I knew getting it fixed would cost quite a bit of money. But if I didn't get it taken care of, then I'd risk not making it home in time.

"I took it to an auto shop, and they told me it would cost $90 to just see what the problem was and also that it would be several hours before they could even look at it. I agreed, gathered a few belongings out of my car, and walked around the area. Thoughts began to fill my head about what the cost would be or if they would keep it overnight. I did not have the time or the money to spare.

"I found a coffee shop where I ended up spending a good amount of time reading your book. As I continued to read, my heart just melted. Here I am, worrying about my situation (especially because I am alone and feel like no one understands or cares), and I read about trial after trial that your grandparents faced--the incredible amount of faith that it took to follow Jesus in such conditions. One thing after another. What I was going through didn't even hold a candle, but I had that same feeling--that there is absolutely no one I can depend on but Jesus. I have no other option. Their story amazed me.

"I came back to the auto shop and waited for another 2 hours (6 hours total) and continued to read. The same workers came in and out, moved papers around and helped many customers. Even though I had been reading of such great faith, I'm sad to say that mine was still wavering. I was expecting the worst with every passing second. I just kept praying.

"Finally, it was close to closing time, and I was sitting there, alone. A worker walked in (who I had not seen before). He called me up and told me that he had fixed my problem. As I pulled out my credit card to pay, he told me I owed nothing. Nothing! Not a diagnostic fee. Nothing. He gave me the keys, and I was free to go. I thanked him as tears filled my eyes, but I held it in until I got to the car. Then I cried all the way to the hotel.

"Anyone would think this was a little thing. And no one else will truly understand what God did in that moment. But the best way I can explain it is that He showed me that I was wrong to think that I was stepping out alone (I often feel that way as I travel alone, speak alone etc.). He showed me that He will answer me. He showed me that I need Him like I need air. I did not deserve the kindness He showed me, but He gave it to me anyway. He showed me that He is a good, good Father no matter what the circumstance. He affirmed what I am doing.

"Sorry for writing such a long message. I thought you would appreciate that story, though. God is using your book to deepen my faith and at just the right time. Things are starting to get scary and real. Reading your true story has reminded me why I am here."

Yes, my friend, you are learning what my grandparents learned nearly one hundred years ago: "When he brings out his own sheep, he goes before them" (John 10:4). All we have to do is follow the Good Shepherd, who takes care of his own.

How has God encouraged your faith?

God Is Never Too Late Conclusion

Last week, I posted Part One of a testimony written by my mother about an occurrence while I was in high school. Here is the dramatic conclusion:

Since our arrival in Seward in February, 1960, we too had been living by faith. Our church was small and unable to support us financially. We had only $30.00 in promised support each month. The cost of living was very high in Alaska. We had four teenagers to feed and clothe. Our two oldest girls were buying a lot of their own clothes with babysitting money, which helped, but they all had healthy appetites and were growing. Sometimes we didn't know where the next meal was coming from, but God was never too late.

The Cousart Family & the Personeuses in front of the Seward,Alaska, church

"Lord, You won't let us down this time either," I breathed as I finished packing our lunches.

"Hey, Mom!" Our 6-feet 1-inch, 13-year-old son, Robert Paul, stood in the doorway. "The kids are wondering what's holding you up. They want to get going."

"Mother, we're all ready and waiting," AnnaLee, our 14-year-old daughter, declared, as she squeezed past her brother and entered the kitchen. "We'll be late if we don't leave soon."

"I know, dear," I answered, giving the already clean counter a final swipe and hanging the dish cloth on the rod. "Honey," I sighed and turned to my husband, "I guess we'd better tell them our problem."

"Yeah, I guess so. Come on." And he led the way to the living room, where the young people were sitting around laughing and talking. They sobered quickly when they saw our grave expressions.

"Young people," my husband began, "I don't know what we're going to do. We've been praying for gas money, but so far, it hasn't arrived. We know you don't have enough money either, so let's pray again, right now." We gathered in a circle, and he led in prayer.

Our living quarters occupied the back of the church building. A boardwalk led along the side of the building to the parsonage door. Just as Bob finished praying, we heard loud footsteps, someone running up the boardwalk.

The doorbell rang vigorously. Before anyone could get there, the door burst open. In came a young man who had recently moved to Seward from Cordova and was now attending our church.

"At work a few minutes ago," he exclaimed, breathlessly, "the Lord impressed on me not to wait until Sunday to pay my tithes but to bring them over to you right away. I asked my boss if I could take my coffee break early. I don't know what this is all about, and I don't have time to find out." He laid some money on the table. "Gotta run! Bye!" And he rushed out the door.

"Praise the Lord!" We all burst out in praises to God.

Quickly, we gathered our things and hurried to the car. Not only was there enough money to buy the gas, but we discovered enough extra to buy a can of pop for each teen to drink with the sack lunches.

God is never too late, and sometimes He even adds an extra treat!

Has God ever given you more than you asked for? I'd love to hear about it.

God Is Never Too Late

This is a "nugget of faith" story my mother, AnnaMae Personeus Cousart, told often. Although I remember the incident, I am writing it from her point of view.

"What should we do?" my husband, Bob, asked softly as he entered the kitchen where I was wiping the counter top after packing sack lunches for our family. "The young people are all here now, and we still don't have the money for gas. I guess I have to tell them we can't go."

Bob & AnnaMae Cousart & family with the Personeuses in Seward, Alaska

It was Friday afternoon in 1960. We were missionaries in Seward, Alaska. A youth rally was to be held that evening in Anchorage, 130 driving miles north of us. Our small group of teens needed the fellowship of other Christian young people, so we had promised to drive them to the rally in our nine-passenger station wagon.


The young people had received permission for an early dismissal from school, and now stood in our living room, sack lunches in hand to eat on the way.

But we didn't have the money for gas, neither did our small church. We had no credit cards either, but we felt confident that God would supply the money. Each day Bob had gone to the post office expecting to find a "blessed letter," as the students from his Bible school had called them. Yet, not a penny had arrived. We kept praying and believing, but nothing had come in the mail all week.

While making our egg salad sandwiches, my thoughts had drifted back to my childhood. I had a rich heritage of living by faith. My parents, Charles and Florence Personeus, were the first missionaries of their denomination to Alaska. [Read their story in my book, Frontiers of Faith. (Available at www.annaleeconti.com.)

In 1917, they had traveled by train and steamer from New York State to Juneau, Alaska, arriving one cold, wet November evening. Certain they were called to this ministry, their only promise of support was Philippians 4:19, "But my God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus," and Matthew 6:33, "But seek first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you." They had fulfilled their end of the bargain, and God had always fulfilled His, maybe not as quickly as they may have wished, but God was never too late.

It seemed that God was really cutting it close to the line this time!

When have you felt like this?

To be continued...