Amazed in His Presence

As someone whose oral tradition always informed me that my family possessed a ‘smidgen’ of Native American heritage, I have correspondingly always been interested in their culture. 

(Interestingly enough, in the past few years my mother, her first cousin and I purchased DNA tests from three different companies, and it seems our American Indian bloodlines hover around zilch, nada and zero.
Throughout the multiplied decades in which I was convinced of my Cherokee or Creek ethnicity, I was convinced that one day I would somehow minister to, or interact with the Native American community. I actually contacted Steve Saint, (son of the martyred missionary, Nate Saint) who currently ministers to the Auca tribe of Ecuador, and inquired about the possibility of assisting in his work there.
And yet, for all my sincerity the times and circumstances never seemed right, and during the intervening two and a half decades I have been involved in the counseling ministry, and was provided the opportunity to teach several courses at a nearby university; my alma mater.
And then…
a young Indian lady, a passing acquaintance, and RN named ‘Damini’ spoke to me about counseling, and I enrolled her in a therapeutic process.
(Did I mention that while Damini was, and continues to be a genuine Indian, she is of the
… East Indian variety)?
Ultimately, Damini completed counseling and I offered her the opportunity to complete an intern program under my supervision, and assisted her in her efforts to participate in a short-term medical mission to Kenya.
Interestingly enough, one of my two God-daughters and her husband are also acquainted with Damini, and have visited her homeland twice, and returned ‘bearing gifts;’ including a beautiful table covering, which my wife and I will always treasure.
Our Lord promised His followers that He would open doors that no man would be able to shut, and shut doors that no man would be able to open.
How often this adage has been true in my own life.
A few months ago I was browsing a social media site of which I am a member. As I scrolled down a group parochial page, I noticed a short story related to the late Rev. Mark Buntain, missionary to India; (and perhaps the best known of Assemblies of God missionaries). The byline indicated the remembrance was written by a Krish Venkanna; a native born East Indian. The real-life stories which Krish posted, and I continued to read about Rev. Buntain were so poignant that I contacted this Memphis-based writer. Ultimately, we became long-distance friends, but more importantly, brothers in the Lord.
As my newfound friend and I interacted, he made me aware that the Buntains, Mark and Hulda, had virtually adopted him, that he had grown up in their home, and they had treated him like one of their own.
Interestingly enough, I had been reading a biography titled ‘Mark’ and ran across a reference to a nameless young man who worked in the missionary’s Calcutta office. Mentioning this reference to Krish, he casually informed me that,
“Well, yes, I was the young man about whom the writer spoke.”
Especially compelling to me was Krish’ testimony of having known and having interacted with Mother Teresa.
“This dear saint would walk into my God-father’s Calcutta office and inform me that she had come to speak to her ‘son.’”
While Rev. Buntain, a Pentecostal Protestant and Mother Teresa, a Roman Catholic were of different religious persuasions, they shared two common bonds; a love for Jesus, and a deep-seated compassion for the street people of Calcutta. And it seems their separate ministries on behalf of the poor of that great city sometimes ‘threw’ them together.
And as our friendship deepened, and I continued to read my friend’s remembrances on the afore-mentioned social media site, I encouraged him to write a book about his experiences. Having written numerous (unpublished) volumes myself, having taught at the university level, and having edited multiplied graduate level papers for various relatives and friends, I immediately offered to edit my friend’s reminiscences.
Yesterday my phone rang and noticing an unfamiliar, out of state number I hesitated to answer it. However, curiosity gave way to good judgment and I relented.
I immediately recognized an East Indian accent on the other end of the line.
“Is this Bill?”
(To which I confirmed that, indeed, it was Bill).
“Hi Bill, this is Krish.”
(and)
“I think it’s time to write that book, and if your offer still stands to edit it, well…”
I like to think I have been an impetus to Krish, and his God-sister, (Rev. Buntain’s daughter) having recently made a decision to turn dream into reality.
Providence. Sheer Providence.
There’s an old song entitled,
“I Stand Amazed in the Presence of Jesus the Nazarene.”
Well, dear readers, I have and I continue to do so. I mean, what kind of circumstances have fallen together in just such a way to lead me to this momentous moment in time?
To be afforded the opportunity to participate in creating a volume alluding to two of the best-known of 20th century Christian saints; written by the daughter and God-son of one of the two.
Whereas, I had assumed that I would one day be involved in ministry to a New World people group I have always referred to as ‘Indians,’ God in His infinite wisdom (and irony of ironies) has seen fit to provide me a providential connection to the lives of an Old World people group of the same title.
Would you object if I said it again? No, let’s sing it together...

“I Stand Amazed in the Presence of Jesus the Nazarene.”


  By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from "(Mc)Donald's Daily Diary" Vol. 40. Copyright pending

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