
It was an eventful August of 1980 when my family and I stepped into our small single-engine Piper Comanche airplane for an adventure into our destiny. As the pilot of the flying machine, I seated myself in the cockpit, followed by five reluctant passengers who uneasily seated themselves beside and behind me. The apprehensive passengers were Martha, my wife, and clinging to her were four faithful offspring (8 to 14 years of age). All were somewhat oblivious about following this adventurous father pilot into a Twilight Zone where none of them had before ventured.
We were all destined by faith out of Opa Locka Airport in Miami, Florida in order to make our way to our new home in Antigua, a place to which Martha had never before ventured, though she had previously tasted the West Indies in Barbados and Grenada on our return from Brazil in 1978. But once the landing gear was safely tucked under the wings, the compass headed us due southeast out over the open waters of the Atlantic Ocean. We were on our way.
As I signed off with Opa Locka Air Traffic Control, and while crossing Miami Beach on a heading into the Bermuda Triangle, I remember that all we could see before us was water … water forever. We could see nothing but the glaring sheen of the early eastern sun off the water that morning as we stretched our faith to do God’s work in the West Indies. It was indeed a flight plan of faith, for all of us were doing what faith and mission would demand of us.
We eventually made our way across endless waters to a small speck of an island named Grand Cayman, where I refueled the airplane, as well as gave the now half-airsick passengers a taste of sweet mother earth. From there our registered flight plan and faith directed us on to our new home on the small island of Antigua in the Leeward Islands of the West Indies. At the time of our departure from Grand Cayman, Antigua was still only a small dot on my flight chart. It still is.
What drove us to this daring—some have used the word “delirious”—adventure was the fact that God had better things for us to do just over the horizon. Our incurable optimistic faith had brought us to a point of launching out over the deep while we hung tightly to the hand of Jesus. We had no other options. We could do nothing less.
Yes indeed, you must take a leap of faith in order to grow your faith. This is simply the way . . . [Continued in the complete bookito, VICTORIOUS FAITH. Message for the PDF copy.]