Five-thirty Monday morning found me leaving the house for another day or two during my field checkout training on mountain airstrips. I gave my wife, Misty, a kiss and expected to see her and my son Benjamin the next evening.

As fellow pilots Dave Wolf, Wolfgang Grotendiek and I ascended from the Chihuahua airport, the day began with a few puffy clouds lingering in an otherwise clear blue sky. The forecasted thunderstorms due to Hurricane Paul had changed overnight to a mere 20% chance of scattered showers. Conditions were good for flying.

We landed around two o’clock in a local village called Samachique, home to a Tarahumara Indian mission hospital. Dave left us there and took off immediately for another village where two Tarahumara women waited to be flown to the hospital the next day for scheduled surgeries. As soon as Dave left, it began to rain and pounded down continually the rest of the day. Tuesday brought even more rain, so we helped dig and replace pipe for a well. Wednesday dawned with…you guessed it, more rain!! But our God controls the weather.

On Wednesday afternoon Dave took off in clear weather with his two passengers to Samachique, but the weather turned nastier and nastier the closer he got. Finally, just as he was about to turn back, the Lord opened up a just-right sized window in the clouds. The rains abruptly ceased for a moment. He was able to descend through a layer of thinning clouds and land the airplane. As he taxied up to the local hangar, the rains started up and visibility once again decreased to almost nothing.

Thursday morning, missionary doctor Mike Berkley, an Orthopedic Surgeon serving with Mexico Medical Mission, began preparing the women for surgery.  As he and I had already chatted about my medical background as a respiratory therapist, Dr. Berkley asked me to assist in the operations. Both women had suffered for years with dislocated thumbs: one for three years due to a fall, the other for seven due to an abusive husband. The surgeries took several hours while each thumb was fused back together with a metal rod.

Normally, the Tarahumara Indians do not express emotion; however, that day, one of the patients had tears in her eyes over the joy of regaining the ability to use her hand properly. The missionary from their village who accompanied them and spoke their tribal lan-guage shared with us that neither of the ladies were believers in Christ. These successful surgeries, she felt, had opened a door to building deeper relationships with them.  (Several months later, one woman did accept Christ and demonstrated a desire to learn more about God.)

Just after the surgeries were finished, the weather finally broke.  We packed up, resumed some training flights, and returned to Chihuahua. I certainly did not know what I was in for that Monday morning when I left, but I am thankful for those steps God put on my path. How good is our God who uses the skills and abilities He has given us to minister in different ways to others when we least expect it!