Summit Pacific College - Call Yearbook (Abbotsford, British Columbia Canada)

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WB52? 175 4- ff I-faxzp Dfcrfpwn By Joyce M. Belcher Diar Excerpt ' 1' X. 'E ,..... ir owes 2-L' -1 XM 1' -1 .1 ,, L,- - ,..gg--- l Wednesday, November 16, 1966. Here I sit, a freshman, perched Indian style on the top bunk while another girl is sprawled out in a dream world on the bottom one. Today is Wednesday, and as on all other days, we began by opening our eyes to the glare of the unshaded dorm light. The agony of waking up followed - eye-rubbing, yawning, and stretching, culminating, of course, in the strenuous feat of rolling out of bed and splashing our faces in cold water. The next hour was, I think, one of the most confusing yet miraculous hours of the day. As usual, no one could remember where she had left her things, so collisions and traffic jams ensued. It was a wonder we got to breakfast at all. This morning, when I walked into the kitchen on my regular duty of serving, I was teased about being a lawbreaker because I didn't make my bed yesterday. That cost me a mark on my citizenship. There is usually a lot of joking at breakfast. No- thing is ever taken seriously because it is impos- sible to tell whether a student means what he says, or whether he is just talking in his sleep. Of course, the reason we are in school is to learn, so after our 8:00 a.m. chapel service, where we heard a message prepared by one of the stu- dents, we commenced our classes. Following the first two periods we had a fifteen minute break, and several of the students took advantage of this time to talk to that special someone. The rest of us relaxed over a game of crokinole. This has be- come a tradition in the school, and we have even heard of some teachers who have tried to play the game. After lunch we had prayer bands as we always do on a Wednesday. This week it was class prayer, which is a special time of spiritual blessing because we uphold one another in prayer and exhort each other in testimonies or short sermons. Today we prayed especially for the school-the sale of the old and God's will for the new. We also asked God to bless the evening service in a special way as we would sit at the Lord's table for communion. As the time for the evening service approached, I noticed several students slip quietly into the chapel to pray. A quiet reverence fell over the school as they came to worship. Our speaker to- night was Rev. Don Osborne, who presented us with the gripping challenge of street evangelism and with the need for dedicated workers. As he spoke, I thought how often we fail to remember that our lives are dedicated to Christ, and as a result, we neglect our all important prayer life, which is the Christian's only means of communion with God. I thought of the many times I had gone to pray in moments of discouragement, and found solace. Christ has become real in my heart. He has increased my faith and given me victory. As we knelt in prayer after the service, I remembered how often we had been told that Bible college is an easy place to backslide, and how I found it to be true. But I also found Christ just as willing to give me strength to prevent slipping, and I know that as l continue to read the Word and pray, God is drawing me closer to Him. There has been a time for everything today- a time to have fun and a time to cry-and God has shown me a new truth. With a world full of hungry, dying souls, there is no time to waste. Eternity is a long time and serious preparation must be made for it. In our seriousness, we must show the joy and love of the Lord. I praise God that he has led me here. I must learn to love-love the souls of men. It is nearly time for 'lights out and so l must say goodnight now. I do hope someone will remem- ber to pray for us. .. sn, J : il i sz.-ir lj: ,I 1 I 6 me 67

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il' 'If tg Q Q55 I U 'SW Imran at xml F-F!!! . , PL vrnqeru f fA,,,,l From T I knew that God had called me to become a My mission was to the land of Brazil, where I was born. and where my father has served as a missionary for more than one quarter of a century. To fulfill this call I had to show myself worthy and approved. Thus, it became necessary that I go to Bible College. I was ready to go, to carry out God's plan for my life, but first I had to complete high school. The big day came at last. I was excited about graduation, but even more excited about leaving Brazil. My destination was Western Pentecostal Bible College, Vancouver, Canada. My faithful father offered to borrow five hundred dollars U.S. currency from the bank to help pay my way. But I knew that that money would go a long way in the indigenous church, so I said, No thanks and began to pray and trust God. I was determined to go: hitch-hike, stowaway, or work my way over. I had a difficult time sleeping on the night of graduation. How- ever, once asleep I had a dream which laid the way for my future. It was about a freighter bound for the United States on which I would work to pay my passage. So realistic was the dream that I told my friends how I was to work on a ship to North America. They called me a fool and explained that such freighters seldom came to the northeastern port of Recife. The next day I went to the docks. To my great surprise and joy I spotted a foreign freighter. It was the British Merchant vessel M. V. Araluen, the only foreign ship in port, and what more, bound for the United States. Spellbound I stood for hours infront of the ship watching every movement aboard. While standing there trying to muster enough courage to go and see the captain, an officer on the bridge kept looking down at at me and then at a magazine as me. Alternately he would look though he were comparing me with something or somebody. I finally made up my mind to see the captain. I explained my situation to him and asked him if he would allow me to work my way to the United States. He said he was sorry but could not promise me anything. I left greatly disappointed. As I was leaving the hold deck, the officer, whom l had noticed before came up to me saying: You are looking for a job aboard this ship aren't you? Yes, Sir, I am. How did you know? 66 w my name? of the Pente4 costal Testimony. Where did you get that, Sir? eyes and ears. not believing my He was Dick Povey, chief engineer. While in British Columbia three months ago, Mr. Povey paced the streets like other seamen looking for pleasure. He found the pleasure he was looking for when in our little church in Port Alberni he accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as his personal Saviour. As he left the church the pastor gave him the only written material that he had then available-the 1966 issue of the Pentecostal Testimony. In it was Bro. Upton's mission- ary write-up of our family in Brazil followed by pictures of the family and missionary activities. The ship had sailed from Canada, to Australia, to South Africa and then to Brazil. God needed to use Dick Povey to get me to Bible College. His high position aboard the ship swayed the captain's previous decision. I got the job and was classified as an Efficient Deck Hand. Arriving in New Orleans, our port of entry, the first thing upon my mind was to buy a hamburger. I had not had a hamburger for years. CHamburgers are unknown in Brazilj. However, before I left the ship the captain sent word that I was to accompany him to the British Embassy to sign off the ship. Once there. he handed me an envelope. In it I counted 386.79 United States currency. What is this for? I asked. Your wages, laddie. You can't expect to work for nothing! I quickly signed my name to some papers, thanked him, praised God out loud, and practically ran to the Greyhound Bus depot. Here I experienced the greatest surprise of the whole trip. The bus ticket from New Orleans to Vancouver was 586.33-the amount of my wages to the very dollar. So, God miraculously provided for a trip from Recife, Brazil, to Vancouver, Canada-a trip of over ten thou- sand miles, costing more than S500.00. I had put my trust in God as I had been taught by my father and God did not fail me. God even thinks of the small things of life. After the bus passage was paid for I had forty-six cents left to buy that greatly longed-for hamburger.

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t 96 040 ee D Q i XE! !- A if gi 3 By Cathy Cruger All of a sudden I was awake. My eyes pierced the blanket of darkness that engulfed me to search out the offender. Immediately my ears became alert to any unfamiliar sounds. But there was silence except for my roommates' heavy breathing in sleep, mingled with the constant ticking of time pieces. Outside, the continuous rapping of rain played its unmelodious tune on the windows. l tried to sleep, but sleep was nowhere to be found. It seemed like an eternity before a faint glimmer of light began to filter through the windows of the dorm. Someone turned over in restless sleep. Some- one sighed. Then a boisterous clammer penetrated the air, causing a dozen sleepyleyed girls to crawl reluctantly from their beds. A day at Western Pentecostal Bible College had begun. To get ready for the day, one must listen to the bedlam of chatter and laughter combined with the squeaking of beds, babbling of water, rustling of curtains and clothes, and the groaning of drawers under pressure. However, they subside after an hour, and only the soft shuffle of many pairs of feet can be heard as they make their way to the dining hall. f N4 xi! fd' after ,, .. 68 Sound Track of WPB I g I 4.5. i fJ Aw e V 7 Wife i ll! i. ll- ' 1 X P M x. Breakfast, like most meals, is a composition played in minors. Voices rise and fall like the ocean against a rocky shoreline. Dishes clang together in high soprano, while chairs scrape out the bass. An occasional fork will clink in tenor as it falls to the floor. The alto part is carried by the pots and pans as they are scrubbed unmercifully in the kitchen. The director of this choir , the hostess, is situated at the head table. The members immediately give heed to any ping from that direction. If one walks down the hall fifteen minutes after breakfast, he will hear a strain of a familiar hymn coming from the direction of the chapel. The morning service has begun. Praise, testimonies, and a message by one of the students make up their daily meeting with the Lord. Chapel is followed by a small sample of thunder as students ascend the stairway to their classes. Within the classrooms, one is met with the harsh scrape of chairs, the soft rustle of paper, and a stream of voices-voices belonging to a group of young people gathered to study earnestly in order to fulfil God's will in their lives. However, the voices cease as the lecture begins. For the remainder of the period the professor carries the lead, accompanied by a bee that has found his way through an opened window. Dinner is played in the same key as breakfast. lt too is followed by a series of classes or study time. At 5:20 the bell is rung for supper and again the clammer of over a hundred hungry students fill the air. At the close of the meal the tempo is changed to largo as a student leads in devotions. Evening falls, and the remaining hours of the day are switched to rubato as everybody finds a place to study. At nine o'clock when the bell rings again many of the young people gather in the nook or retire for the night. Once again I find myself listening to the tunes of the night. Slowly they fade in the distance.