I remember the exact time and day it all happened.  The day we began living 72 hours in the book of Acts. 

It was 2 o’clock in the afternoon, on Saturday, July 25, 1992.  We were just leaving our home in Parras de la Fuente, Coahuila, Mexico, when an immigration officer approached us.  He began questioning us about our "so-called illegal activities" in Mexico.  After several minutes, he informed us that we shouldn’t leave our home or go anywhere because he would be back that night to question us further.  We immediately thought of the other missionaries in town and despite his threats drove to their homes to warn them, but he had already been there.  Some time later, after returning home, we prayerfully awaited his second visit. 

When he began his second interrogation and that is when we realized that he came to stop our so-called “illegal activities.”

He spoke of the government’s concern about the deep, widespread movement of Americans influencing the religious beliefs of the people in Parras.  Then, with a very stern face, he babbled on about a report he had stating that were in fact preaching the Bible.  We skirted the accusation by asking who had said it.  That is when he told us that he had a document affirming that there were 10,000 witnesses, although be refused to divulge any sources, he had the document in his hand and was sighting it as evidence against us. 

With a seriousness that touched our spirits, he asked directly, “Have you ever stood before the church ‘Iglesia de la Gracia’ to pray, preach or speak in any way about God?”  The question resounded in our ears as he awaited an answer.  So many things ran through our minds while we quickly prayed for wisdom from God. He waited and watched us closely, looking for the truth in every expression and look.  We answered, after what seemed an eternity, and said “Yes we have.”  We could not deny it. We were guilty.  As the words left our mouths, a peaceful courage came into our hearts. 

He went on to inform us that because our activities were illegal, he would be taking our visas.  He added that we had only 72 hours to leave the country.  However, he went on to say that all we had to do was to leave the country, turn around, and then come back.  He demanded our visas, which we were reluctant to turn over to him because it would leave us without proof of legal entry into the country.   We had no other options at this point but to render our visas to him. We expressed our concern, so he agreed to provide us with a copy of the paperwork explaining the terms of our departure but informed us that we had to turn it in at the border upon exit. 

The next day immigration arrived with all of our paperwork.  As we waded through the legal jargon, all of which was in Spanish, we soon saw that our departure papers stated a “definitive leave.”  That meant that we could never return!  The immigration officer denied it, holding to his story that all we had to do was leave and come back. We hesitated to sign the papers because there were several errors.  But he insisted, threatening that if we didn’t sign “there would be big problems, even imprisonment.”  So we, not knowing what this meant for our future-especially in Mexico, reluctantly signed—all three of us, even our daughter had to sign.  In doing so we were confessing to the charges of preaching the Gospel, giving away clothing, vitamins and shoes. 

Technically, we had until Tuesday afternoon to be out of the country but bright and early Tuesday morning the ordeal began.  We rose very early, tired and unsettled in our spirits.  We skipped breakfast and did the necessary things preparing to leave.  Little did we know the next few hours would be absolutely frightening, and hours that we would NEVER forget.  That, in fact, the enemy had planned to take our lives. 

There was a loud knock at the door…it was the immigration officers.  They announced that they were there to escort us out of the country.  As we stood in the doorway listening to them, we recalled a dream given to dear friend only days before.  She recounted the dream to me the morning after she had it.  It went something like this:  uniformed men from immigration arrive at our door to take us to the border.  They loaded us into the back of a red truck.  She inquired why they were doing this, and they responded that there were following orders from Mexico City.  She asks them, “You’re not really taking them to the border are you?”  One of them answers, “No!”  Terrified, she asks, “Then where are you taking them?”  He smiles and informs her that he has orders to kill them.  About that time the truck hits a hole in the road and out we jump.  That is when she awoke. 

Well, you can see how we could draw some frightening parallels.  We had not connected the two events until they actually came to take us away-as in the dream.  We knew in our spirits that danger was certainly presenting itself.  Just the day before we learned that 14 people had been deported from the state of Chihuahua.  There also were two other missionaries escorted by immigration to the border, and they hadn’t been seen since.  As Larry occupied them at the door, I snuck back inside to place an urgent call to our pastor in Spring, Texas, asking for prayer.  He was quick to remind us that we serve a God of miracles who would certainly be there for us.  He added that angels camped all around us, and not to let fear enter in. I told him that it was a six hour drive, and that we would call him upon arriving at the border.  Little did we know that the phone call would prove to be instrumental in saving our lives. 

Later our pastor would tell us he began praying for us from the moment he received our call and did not stop until we called him from the border.

Anyway, we quickly threw our suitcases into our van, and told immigration that we were ready.  The immigration officer told us that we were going to be allowed to take our van but that we would be locked in a caravan of vehicles…following the head vehicle, a RED TRUCK.  He also informed us that we had to make a stop in Monterey.  Knowing the dream, we became alarmed and asked why.  We were wondering “Is that where they will kill us?”  He answered, “To report.”  We pushed for information but the reply was the same…”to report.”  The trip through the mountains of Mexico was horrendous.  The officer drove 70-80 miles per hour around hairpin turns and along steep cliffs.  From time to time, he would sporadically stop for no apparent reason and walk around the vehicle with his gun.  We don’t know if he wanted us to try to escape so that he could shoot us or if he merely was contemplating the right time and place.  But each time we began to pray and back in Spring, our pastor was praying—that moved the hand of God on our behalf.  God stayed the enemy and each time he returned to his truck without harming us.   Just as he shut the mouth of the lion for Daniel, God stopped that man from carrying out his orders, signed by the president of Mexico....TO KILL US! 

Finally, we arrived at the Department of Immigration where they led us to a holding area.  And we waited, and waited and waited.  Hours went by, and we kept waiting.  We asked several times why we were being detained.  They always answered the same, “Shut up, sit down and wait.”  Finally, they moved us into an office where we were questioned by a very abrasive man.  We requested an interpreter, but he replied harshly, “You are prisoners, and prisoners have no rights in my country.”  He went on to say that whatever we didn’t understand he would “MAKE US” understand.  He pulled out a very old law book and began to define our so-called “illegal activities.”  We then were forced to sign a secondary paper that stated that we had not been forced to sign the first paper back in Parras.  This paper also stated that our leave was “definitive,” but it also said that if we returned, we’d be subject to a penalty of a 10 year jail term.  Now we could see the trap!  They had wanted to coax us back into Mexico so that they would have a reason to put us into jail, and if that didn’t work, they would just kill us.

It was almost time for us to leave with the escort for the border.  Left alone in the room with the immigration officer who had taken us away, we asked him why he had done this to us.  He said that “his orders came from Mexico City,”—the exact words in the dream!  From that point on a different officer accompanied us.  That must have been the hole in the road my friend saw in her dream.  God does provide a way of escape!

Twelve hours after leaving our home at 9:30 pm, we finally arrived at the border.  We had to sign more papers, more confessions, and then we were fingerprinted.  They took physical descriptions and posted them on the wall…we were wanted criminals!  By this time my daughter was quite a bit shaken, but God in His mercy allowed a very nice man to take our fingerprints.  He spoke gently to her and it seemed to make things better somehow.  We were now fugitives in their eyes, criminals for preaching the gospel.  As we crossed the border into the United States, I felt like kissing the ground.  We found a hotel room, called our pastor, who at 11:00pm was still praying.  We informed him that we had arrived safely and were in the States.  We slept that night knowing that we were safe—safe in the palm of God’s mighty hand.  Since that time, we have experienced God’s protection in so many ways.  We know that we have a destiny, that God allowed us to live because He has a purpose for us in the earth.  Our lives have been in jeopardy many times, we've been shot at, had stones thrown at us, and have been ambushed among many other things.  Today, we are living and working for the Lord in Guatemala.  Since the conception of this ministry we have had the privilege of winning literally thousands to Christ and starting numerous churches.

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