March 2024

I had spent the last four years of my retirement helping my 95-year-old mother, who was on oxygen and had slight dementia. Along with my mother, I was also helping my 73-year-old, deaf diabetic sister in the beginning stages of Alzheimer’s. The two of them lived together, and I lived approximately two miles from them.  I would stop by and take care of bills, doctor's appointments, home repairs, and everything that needed to be done. As time went on, it appeared that more and more problems kept coming up with their health issues.  I was in continual prayer about their situation, asking God to help me, help them.

My mother refused to go into an assisted living facility, and I was trying hard to honor her wishes.  As things became more complicated, I continued to pray. One day, I sensed God telling me to sell my place and move in with them. I wasn’t quite sure about this, because I didn’t have a real close relationship with my mom.  

In my flesh, I would not have considered this an option, but it was the peace I had that made me know it was from God.  So, without wasting any time, I started packing and selling things.  

Through this whole process, God had his hand on everything.  People were buying my things quicker than I imagined.  I had three large items left and believed they would be hard to sell. A broken and heavy roll top desk, an extremely large and awkward filing cabinet, and a TV stand with a fireplace insert.

A very nice couple, Bob and Ann, answered the ad for the filing cabinet. I was so glad when they came, because they had a trailer.  This filing cabinet was a large two-drawer, heavy cabinet. They decided to take it, and I was so thankful.

After Bob finished loading it, I drew his attention to the roll-top desk and the minor repairs it would need. After a convincing sell, they bought that too. I happened to be showing Ann what a great fireplace I had in the TV insert when she said to Bob that she really wanted it. So, it was loaded up along with the other items.  

The last three heavy items all went to one couple. Lord, thank you!  As they drove off, I wished them well.

My sister and I locked up my condo and returned to Mom's to get her truck, and came back to get my bed. At my mom’s, my sister and I jumped into the truck, turned the key. Dead battery! At this point, I had received a picture from Ann on the fireplace they bought, and how much she loved where they put it. I told her that it was great and that my sister and I came back to a dead battery.

I heard Ann cover the phone, and then she came back on the line and said, “Bob and I are coming over. He knows how to work on vehicles.” I was so grateful once again. Thank you, Jesus!

In less than 15 minutes, Bob and Ann pulled into our driveway. Bob got right to work cleaning the cables to the truck’s battery, then he put the jumper cables on the battery.  It started right up! Another “thank you, Jesus.”

Then he said, “Ok, now let’s go get your bed.”

They followed us back to my condo. Together, we disassembled the bed and loaded it into the truck. We headed back to my mom’s, and we all unloaded the bed and put it together in my new bedroom.

I believe Bob and Ann were sent from God. Not only did they buy the last of my most difficult and heavy pieces, but they fixed our truck, disassembled my bed and reassembled it. I kept thanking God and them.

By the way, Bob is in his 80s!

God showered me with one blessing after another.  I realized that when I obey Him, God will do the heavy work.  

Chapter 1 excerpted from: RUNWAYS of the HEART: My Journey Empowered by the Holy Spirit, Dr. Russ Frase, Jr.’s story

I sped in my SUV toward Denver International Airport, my mind racing. Had I packed all I needed for two weeks of ministry in the Philippines?

Also, I couldn’t stop thinking about my friend Dave Wurtsbaugh, fighting for his life in the Huntsman Cancer Institute in Salt Lake City. He had been a dear friend for many years and a true armor bearer. We had fought many spiritual battles together and traveled the world, and ministered together. I loved him as a brother, and we both shared a deep passion and love for the Lord and for people.

Halfway to the airport, my cell phone rang.

“Pastor Russ, this is Roxi,” Dave’s wife said in a low trembling voice. “Dave is in really bad shape. His kidneys shut down, his temperature is very high—when brain damage occurs—and his blood pressure has plummeted to dangerous levels. Doctors don’t think he’ll make it through the night.”

My heart felt like it had been torn to pieces. I needed to catch my plane to the Philippines in two hours, and my dear friend was at death’s door. His wife stood watch alone at his bedside.

What should I do, Lord? I cried out in anguish. Then the Holy Spirit brought to my remembrance the story of Jesus who, while on His way to minister to someone in dire need, was interrupted by another who needed ministry.

I sensed His clear answer: Go immediately to Salt Lake City.

Yes, I need to reach my best bud! But how? I was five miles from the airport with luggage to check and an international ticket in my pocket. How would I make my connection so I could travel on to the Philippines in time to minister to Youth With A Mission (YWAM) students?

Call your son, I sensed that voice I’d become so familiar with tell me.

My son, Rusty, works for the airlines, which makes it possible to fly many of my trips around the world at no cost.

Surprisingly, he wasn’t in the air somewhere and answered to phone. After I explained the situation, he said, “I’ll see what I can do and call you right back.”

Now two miles from the airport, I anxiously clutched my cell phone, and almost dropped it when it rang.

“Dad, park and leave your luggage in the car. I booked a flight for you to Salt Lake City in two hours, returning tomorrow morning. I was also able to book a new flight to the Philippines. You’ll still make it there on time.”

“Thank you, Rusty!”

I wept as the burden fell from my shoulder and relief rushed in. How perfect is the Holy Spirit, who knows what to do! I’d obeyed Him, even though it seemed impossible. And He honored my willingness to do the right thing and put my friend’s needs in front of a mission trip, even if I had to completely cancel it. I learned a lesson from the Lord that no mission is so important that you can’t take care of a divine interruption.

At DIA, I hurriedly dialed Roxi’s number. “I’m coming to you and Dave! Will you pick me up at the Salt Lake airport?”

In Utah, the she pulled to the airport curb, I looked into Roxi’s eyes, and I could see her exhaustion from the long ordeal. I sent her to her hotel to rest. And I spent the night in the hospital room constantly praying in the Spirit for God to heal Dave’s kidneys, for his body temperature to come down, and his blood pressure to come up. Off and on, I helped him out of bed to the restroom.

Then, in the morning, Roxi returned, and after I prayed with her, she took me back to the airport.

Before I boarded the plane for the Philippines, Roxy called my cell number. “Pastor Russ!” Her voice sounded bright. “Dave’s kidneys are working, his blood pressure is normal, and his body temperature is normal! And you know what?” she added with a laugh. “Dave doesn’t remember you came!”

I grinned. Somehow it didn’t matter.

As I sank into my seat, my heart burst with joy for the way the Holy Spirit had worked out all the details, and allowed me to pray for Dave and still make it to the YWAM students in time. I glanced out my small window at the crew as they scurried on the ground loading the plane with our suitcases and filling the tank with fuel.

I wept as memories swept over me—of Dave ministering with me in a dusty schoolroom in Pakistan, as we laughed at the practical jokes we played on each other, as we ate rubber chicken and saw the Holy Spirit set people free from bondages.

Thank you, Lord, for Your divine detour and for saving the life of my dear friend! With clearance from the air traffic control tower, the pilot skillfully picked up speed. I could imagine him with his copilot carefully monitoring the radar and listening to the radio frequency that guided him into the airspace reserved just for us.

I looked out my portal at the blue sky, the clouds, buildings, and houses below as they grew smaller and smaller while we climbed higher and higher. And the faces of the youth we’d be ministering to flashed in my mind, and brought joy and peace to my soul.

I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes with a smile, tears still brimming, know this is what God prepared me for—taking off from this runway to soar and land across the ocean in my adventurous journey with the Holy Spirit. It was one of the most satisfying things in the world to me.

I eagerly looked forward to more of Him.

—Copies of this book can be found here on Amazon

By, Martin Coykendall

I had a vein-stripping operation on my left leg around 1992. The doctor told me to stay in bed for several weeks because of the swelling and sutures. I used crutches to get around, but otherwise was confined to bed.

After about a week, I remembered I’d registered for a Christian convention I was going to attend with several men from my Bible study group.

I needed to try to get up and test my limits so I could ride in a car.

I stood, using my crutches, and put a large trash bag over my bandaged leg and foot, and got in the shower. When I finished showering, I had the thought of putting my swollen foot on the ground first to see how much weight I could bear. 

My foot and leg were swollen about twice their normal size and my foot felt like a balloon ready to pop. As soon as my foot touched the floor, there was a distinct “pop." Not audible, but a sensation or knowing.

To my surprise, I could put all my weight on the foot and bend my leg! The swelling was completely gone.

I dressed, called my mom and told her I was healed. She didn't believe me, so she drove over to my apartment to see for herself. After she saw that I really was healed, we got in the car and drove to my brother's house. He wasn't totally convinced. He reminded me that I had just had surgery and that I should "take it easy". 

On Sunday morning, I went to Sunday school and told the people there. Everyone I told said the same thing: “Take it easy. Don't push yourself." No one seemed convinced I was healed. But, as they say, I knew that I knew that I was healed, and I didn't care what others thought about it.

Two weeks later, I went to those meetings and never had a problem. Praise God. 

—Martin can be reached at martin.coykendall@att.net