. I ordained thee a prophet unto the nations” (Jeremiah 1:5). B eing a twin has its delights and its drawbacks. As kids, Don and I were identical and insepara ble. Even our mother called us “Dicky-Don.” Up through high school we did everything to gether. In any difficulty we were right there to help one another. Don helped me in math . . . I helped him in football. One time we sent the kids and faculty to the windows gasping for fresh air when I un locked and opened the fan room door and Don threw a rotten egg into the whirling ventilator fans. And as young marrieds, we used to enjoy spoof ing each other’s wives over the phone, for even now Don and I still speak alike. The years have changed us. My hairline recedes while Don's waistline expands. Don has mellowed and grown benevolent while middle age has increased my physical problems. We have served God continents apart, and it seems incredible to us that some peo ple still confuse us. Don and I both accepted Christ as our personal Saviour about the same time and both committed our lives to Him for foreign service while attending Biola. Graduation brought our first long separation
as twins . . . I was accepted by the China Inland Mission and it was eleven years before I saw my twin again. We were raised in a Christian home in western Washington. Mother was a woman of prayer. Dad, a great ox of a timberman, knows the West Coast from the Mexican border to the Aleutians and loves the Bible from Genesis to Revelation. We boys were taken to church from the time we were infants, but “familiarity breeds contempt.” Even our going to a Christian school was a bit of a miracle. Don seemed to feel the ministry would be an honor able profession, so with a “Let’s get on with the job” attitude, he rode Greyhound from Seattle to Los Angeles and signed up. Several weeks later, I fol lowed Don but with no greater motivation than the multiple attractions of a big city over a little one. While at Biola, Don began to talk about India. “Dick," he said, as we sprawled on our bunks for an evening bull session, “why do we have so many mis sionary speakers from China and South America and Africa, and yet its been four months since we heard a speaker from India?” “Maybe the India missions don’t give their men furloughs,” I suggested. “No joking, Richard,” he chided, wrinkling his
32
THE KING’S BUSINESS
Made with FlippingBook - professional solution for displaying marketing and sales documents online