Transformation
When I was in Highschool, I got to borrow a book by Bruce Olson, "For This Cross You Will Die", the biography of a missionary among the Motilone indians in South America, in the 1950`s. Bruce Olson went when he was only 19 years old, from Pennsylvania, USA, to the jungle on the border between Colombia and Venezuela. He knew that in order to reach this people with the gospel, he had to learn to live like them and give them the gospel in their own language.

It cost him blood, sweat and tears, he was shot with bow and arrows, and threatened by one of their shamans: "For this cross you will die."  But that didn`t scare Bruce.

On a later occasion, their chief fell down from a tree and hurt his back. Bruce and the Motilone brothers got him to a jungle hospital, and there, they found that he had a fracture,  but he was miraculously healed, and the indians celebrated this by preaching the gospel to an other tribe who had a completely different language. But as by an other miracle, they understood each other.

The whole tribe ended up believing and being saved, and Bruce saved them from being extinguished by the oil imperialists and the guerilla, who had threatened them over time and killed many of them.

You have probably heard it`s been said: "The missionaries should let those poor natives alone, instead of destroying their cultures with religion."  The truth is, it is more than often quite other forces than missions that destroy those cultures. The State Church and the Samie Mission has been a negative factor, yes, but the real missionaries like for instance Levi Lestadius and Hans Nielsen Hauge, has saved both the samies and Norway in general from poverty and perdition.

As I read the book by Bruce Olson and about how he was saved, I sat up in bed ( I was reading at night ) and invited Jesus into my heart to cleanse me from my sins with His blood.  Since then, I have recconed myself as a child of God.

Later, one evening at the old Namsen bridge, I had an intense experience of being born again. I had a vision of the king of the Jews who died on the cross for me, and I was reminded of God`s word: "Give me your heart." From being like a dry, dirty sack of sand, I was like changed into a destilled drop of dew on God`s finger. I jumped up from kneeling and leaped, exulting with a song along the bridge. I had difficulties in my life at that time, but God helped me.
Natives in South-America
Travels