We're gathering to celebrate Winkie's birthday!

Join us for music and food, memories and lots of hugs!

Saturday, August 2nd - 6 pm until "whenever"
Community Christian Fellowship - Garden Valley, TX
For directions: http://www.ccflindale.org

We want to honor his life of service to the Lord and let him know how thrilled we are that he is celebrating this birthday, healed and whole and returned to us.

Please RSVP so we'll know how to plan and even if you can't come you can help by sending something that will help us express to Winkie what an impact his lifetime of ministry has had on so many of us. But let's surprise him okay?

Jim & Dee Patton, the whole MOH gang & CCF staff

RSVP to deepatton@moh.org or call 903.570.8859
P.S. please forward this to all the winkie fans you know

New Beginnings 2008
HAPPY RESURRECTION!

Apologies to those of you who have looked in vain for some recent update on the blogs since December last year. Your gentle urging to keep you abreast of what we were up to these past few months was appreciated. This entry will cover January through to March.

WELL, we just finished Easter week here in Down/Under New Zealand. Well. A glad and happy Easter it was too. Palm Sunday is the only one in our lifetime that fell on March 16th - a 3:16! With eight the number of resurrection and new beginnings in Scripture it was appropriate this month to tell afresh of God’s great love for His world.

I was honored to share Good Friday on one of New Zealand’s largest commercial radio networks (ZB) broadcasting nation-wide, as part of a team put together for the whole of the day by friends from Christian Broadcasting. I joined with a long-term friend John Cooney, editor in chief of our nations largest free magazine the Grapevine. John and I had a late afternoon hour slot together on an open talk-back covering a number of topics beginning with my own miraculous return from the edge of death, and finishing with some evidences of the Lord’s greatness in creation around us. Later on the show was John’s interview with Barry McGuire, our good mate with a resurrection testimony having been revived from a fatal heart arrest a few years ago, now going on strong again with Jesus. Barry and his Kiwi wife Marie (once my short-term secretary) were with us at lunch hosted by our friends Lindsay and Lynn Armishaw two weeks ago.

The talk-back turnover to CBA by commercial radio over Easter and Christmas for our own programs is something quite unique and wonderful for our nation. Over a period of a decade they have had such good feedback from the creative programming many culturally aware Christians have contributed that this has been an annual event now. It gives the station personnel a welcome break to enjoy the holidays themselves with their family and friends, and gives us a chance to share with others that what makes the time special is not really about bunnies and eggs. After all, history is His-story.

It is also for me a wondrous reminder of just how much the Resurrected Lord has done for us over the past year. As I mentioned previously, a year full of both trial and triumph, white-knuckled trust and overwhelming wonder at His greatness and goodness. I thought again of knowing the day I stood at the edge of death, with one last breath left in my body. Knowing that when that was exhausted, my battered body that had been strapped to a hospital bed with almost everything but my heart closed down inside me, would simply resign my spirit to my Maker and Master. No sense of fear, just a quiet and simple surrender with perhaps a hint of wishing I had had more time or could have done more..

And then that last breath was gone I had no more to give, and I was dying.

And He was there. Not at all where I expected He might be in such a situation. Not in front of me, to welcome me home or to turn me over to some carrying angel. Not beside me or even behind me, His hand on my shoulder to strengthen me for the last journey. He was inside me, looking out through my eyes at His world, closer than a brother, closer than breathing. I saw through His eyes not heaven, but His world, as He sees it in all its beauty and fallenness, wonder and ugliness, violence and tranquility, terror and peace. He was there, where He had been all the time since the day I first put my uncertain hand in the hand of the One Who holds the worlds, the One Who has promised to never leave us or forsake us, the One Who keeps all of His promises to the end and beyond it. And on the Monday following Easter week, where we remember again with gratefulness and love His death and resurrection, I had my own.

Fae reminded me of what it was like for her on what she called Miracle Monday, when arriving to keep the morning vigil beside me as I lay in a coma from which even the Christian doctors had little hope or expectation of my recovery. They not only gave me only a tiny tithe of possible survival; they also had no expectation that if I did recover I would have all of my facilities function again. We had received a prayer cloth from a ministry that had intensely prayed for us, and Fae had the night before laid this all over my body adding again her faith to those who had already earnestly interceded for us,

And without fanfare I opened my eyes and sat up alert, aware and alive. My own resurrection. Not anywhere near as spectacular as my Master, but to me and my family and friends in a small way just as miraculous and wonderful. On this anniversary, a year later, I remember not only what did for our world, but what He did in mine.

Some of you who have written me or sent some kind of encouragement over the past twelve months to us whether as a card, check or a creative blessing and prayer have taken the time to share with me the tough road that you have also walked recently. More than ever now I am able to identify with the unbelievable maelstrom of pressure and stress that strikes like a whirlwind to the core of your life when such things happen to you, your close family or your friends. But while Good Fridays are only good in retrospect of the Resurrection, the gift of grace that may come in the storm is evidence that faith is not something you hold, but Someone Who holds you.

I am now “back in the saddle” again having ministered for at least a month and being fourteen weeks now from the final closure of my surgery. The titanium tummy mesh is holding up well, and apart from a little tightness in deep forward bends is doing its job well in helping keep the deeper stitches holding the healing wound that was stitched with dissolving sutures. We are also playing some tennis again which I hope to increase a couple of days weekly to help rebuild both my strength and stamina.

My first ministry in New Zealand was a few days at the Great Barrier Island January with a Sojourner YWAM school under the leadership of Jay Lucas. Besides the students many of the staff also came to these very laid back sessions many of them with me sitting by the computer and dialing up power points, notes and music to a projector. We also got to touch base again with visiting friends who came to the Island for holidays. Apart from the small airplane flying us to the wrong drop-off point on arrival and a broken front tooth the week was uneventful but blessed and touched by Him.

We also had two small visits out of the country; flown to Fiji at the invitation of friends for a weeks vacation in a new development of the island area called Demerau. We were given a weeks free stay in a lovely condominium with three other couples and I learned to ride a bike again after 20 years of not following in my fathers footpedals. The other trip was to Tasmania Australia on an unused old ticket from last year where Dr. Andrew Corbett set up three night meetings for me over the weekend and a morning church service. He also did a great Matrixed version of my Digital Generation power-point presentation and restrung our racquets for us as well as kicking my rear end in tennis.

Other areas of ministry followed; on my return addressing the LIFE churches annual staff meeting thirty minutes after the return plane from Tasmania touched down. I thought staff meeting was going to be an informal chat with some 10-20 people and found there were some 500-600 in attendance! The next two weeks involved two nights at a Massey University Lecture room to a new School of Revival on that subject, and helping open a new church meeting place for His Way on the North Shore called The Upper Room. Two young men from the work volunteered their time and talents to repaint the ceilings and walls in our home when we were in Australia. The following week their generous gift was blessed of the Lord by them being offered to fill the role of a firms’ master painter who had left for overseas, a contract for five-figure major projects. God is good.

Also Easter week I did a new five-day series on the Nature and Character of God in the Arts for two combined DTS YWAM schools locally, digitally recorded for later podcast. I filled in for a defaulting guest speaker for our friends Craig and Sonia Monroe at Kings Way, a local ministry with outreaches to gangs and prostitutes in our area. Still to come are two more church services on 20th century revivals, a business-mans’ breakfast outreach on the North Shore for our friends at Harbourside that helped us put in our concrete driveway last year and as much time as we can here serving the churches and pastors before we leave for overseas next month.

Our departure date for the U.S. is now set for April 22nd, and we plan to be in California (hopefully joined by William) for the first two weekends to meet with and thank some of our friends there who prayed and cared for us over this over this past year before returning to Texas again by the second week in May. Fae has been ministering to her elderly parents her Dad, who will be 93 in a few months and though legally blind is still the chief caregiver at their home to her mother now with major memory lapses. Again we want to thank you for your faithfulness in prayer; the Lord has been our constant provision and protection and we have been so conscious that much of the blessing of these past months has been due to His grace and the constant way we have been held before His throne. You are all loved and appreciated so much.

Blessings in the Beloved –
Winkie, Fae and William.


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This then is final stretch, heading to year end for us. It is the end to a most amazing year – full of trials and miracles, danger and shelter, crisis and care. Going through some of my old recordings of music ministry in the 60s and 70s in my Revival Reclamation Project, I was touched again by the words of our friend Andre Crouch, the man who brought church to the street and the charts during the Jesus Movement.

“I’ve had many tears and sorrows
I’ve had questions about tomorrow
There's been times when I didn’t know right from wrong
But in every situation God gave blessed consolation
That my trials only come to make me strong

Through it all – Through it all
I’ve learned to trust in Jesus – I’ve learned to trust in God
Through it all – Through it all
I’ve learned just to depend upon His Word.”

I remember coming out of my two and a half week coma to the first song in English we heard since my arrival in South Korea. A nurse had left a little portable radio tuned to the only English station they had there; a station playing 60’s and 70’s hits.

On that beautiful morning in Easter week of April, the song playing was sung by another friend of ours, Pat Boone who also prayed for us and wonderfully supported us during the crisis. He asked me “What was the song I was singing when you recovered?” I told him how great God’s timing and encouragement was to us hearing a familiar favorite voice on my own resurrection day – it was his great chart hit “April Love.”

Such are the ways of the Lord. His infinite care in all the little details as well as the major battles of life are unmatched by any mere religion. He is the scariest, friendliest, funniest Person in the Universe. We want a world where nothing can go wrong, where good things happen only to good people, and bad things only come to bad people. We think a world like that where there was only safety, security and shelter would be the best of all possible worlds. And we would be wrong. Within a few weeks we would not want to live in that world. We would be bored out of our minds.

The God Who made it all hard-wired risk into His Universe. All the things that make life great always carry that element of alternative possibilities. I have recently been meditating on the works of God, and that of His being the Entrepreneur is one of the most fascinating in Scripture. The old casting of lots, the Urim and Thummim and other odd practices incorporated into the direction and guidance of God are pointers to His willingness to let us take risks. All the great triumphs as well as the tragedies of life revolve around risk. It is the element that breathes into the regulation of His Universe all its random fractal color and variety. After all what are the great sins of mankind but simply risks taken outside of His direction and apportion? Without faith it is impossible to please Him. Without such “luck of the Lord” it would be impossible to please us.

I have wondered what might be the most fitting way to share with you just how grateful we are as a family for what you have done in helping us as His extended heart and hands “through it all”, giving me another opportunity to serve Him and serve His world. Words cannot convey what it is like to come to the edge of death and be given another chance to get back into the battle, patched, scarred and mended as we may be.

A week ago I received a wonderful story from someone who came to a meeting put together by another young musician friend of mine as a community fundraiser for a tragedy that took place in a small town that left parents and friends devastated by death and destruction. What happened to him that night is one of the clearest accounts I have ever been given of the dealings of the Lord in all of our lives. With his permission, I share his story with you. It is encounters like this with Christ that makes serving Him such an honor. It is why all the long weary miles and multitudes of faces and places are so worth it in His service. I am spared for stories like this to happen again for others.



November 30, 2007

“On September 9, 2006, I went to Whitehaven Road Baptist Church with my wife and four school age sons for a fundraiser concert to benefit two young Grand Island men, one of whom had been killed and the other badly injured in the same car crash a few weeks earlier.

While I lived less than a mile away, a Baptist church was one of the least likely places anyone who knew me would expect to find me that night, or any night, for that matter. It wasn’t simply because I was born and raised Catholic. My mother had been raised in a Baptist home in rural Maine before she converted to Catholicism in order to marry my father, a Catholic for many generations before he was even born. So, I had nothing more against the Baptist church than I had against the Catholic churches I had attended my entire life. I simply didn’t consider any church very relevant to my life, particularly on a Saturday night.

Yes, my life at that time was, on paper and from a comfortable distance, fabulous. I had married the most beautiful and enchanting woman I had ever met and, to most casual observers, we had remained relatively happily married for 18 years. We had four sons who were born healthy and had stayed that way, excelling at both sports and academics. Neither my wife nor I had come from “money”, but after some lean years, my hard-earned law degree and even harder-earned law practice had produced material wealth beyond our expectations. We lived in a house that we had, literally, been calling our “dream home” for two years before it went on the market at precisely the time I won a big case and could afford to buy it. By 2006, all four of our sons attended private schools and my wife had been able to stop working, outside the home anyhow, when our youngest boy was born in 1999.

And as for me personally, well back before September 9, 2006, anyone who had ever been introduced to me knew within seconds of meeting me that I was – drum roll, please -- a trial lawyer. And not just a run-of-the-mill trial attorney, I assured you. I was thunder & lightning and fire & ice rolled into one. I would, modestly of course, remind all prospective clients (i.e. everyone I met and everyone they had ever met) that if you hired any other attorney to take your case to court, well, God help you. I, on the other, did not need God’s help, and neither, I believed, would my clients. As proof, I could point to a decade of “success,” particularly since opening my own law firm in April 2006. Things, I insisted without visible hesitation, could not have been better.

Of course, I guess you could say I was a bit prideful. Prideful enough to think that my wife and children should have been praising me more for my courtroom triumphs and the paychecks and purchases they produced, and complaining less about my absence from their life. And as for the drinking? Well, I had always liked “my beer” and it had never been a problem in my life before. Not really. Not as far as I was concerned, anyhow. Besides I had a very stressful career and I was entitled to a little enjoyment in life. I had new clients to drum up. I had crushing workloads and opposing counsel to deal with. I had great victories and large settlements to celebrate with my fellow attorneys. I had plenty of reasons to drink, and, hey, it went with the territory. My world and my obligations outside of my house were so big and important and pressing, that a little disappointment from the people inside my home would just have to be tolerated.

So, if it hadn’t been for Marc Scibilia and a terrible tragedy involving two of his former classmates, I never would have been at Whitehaven Road Baptist Church that Saturday night last September. My sons were fans of Marc’s music. I was -- despite my preoccupation with “my” life -- still a fan of my sons and their interest in music. As a shrewd attorney in the often cutthroat world of lawyer advertising and marketing, I was also keenly aware that the setting of a fundraiser for young men badly injured in a motor vehicle accident might prove fertile soil for me to sprinkle seeds of my renown as a personal injury trial attorney. I had previously represented a family member of one of the young men in the collision and I thought it would prove useful to be introduced around as a lawyer who knew his way around a courtroom. I was also very proud, of course, to be hand-delivering a sizable donation with my name and address on the check, in case anyone wanted to know from whom it was from..

It was a good crowd, very receptive it seemed to the concept of pain and suffering which was so often such a hard sell with jaded jurors that had not been touched by personal tragedy. So, I made my rounds for a few minutes, settled in next to my wife and sons to catch Marc Scibilia’s act and prepared to leave promptly after he finished. Now, even a fool had to admit Marc’s performance was terrific and my sons and wife were also very impressed. Out of courtesy for Marc’s preacher friend, who had come from so far away for God knows what, I decided I would listen politely for a few minutes before my family and I made a discreet and appropriately solemn exit. I thought longingly for a moment about the cold beer I would enjoy within the next half hour at the local pizzeria.

After a few minutes, however, I realized the pizza and beer would have to wait. At first, I think it was simply the New Zealand accent. It sounded kind of cool, hip and irreverent -- just like I fancied myself. And the guy was funny, you had to give him that.

But then, it got kind of weird and uncomfortable. I probably would have left except it seemed this New Zealand preacher was speaking directly to me. He was talking about people getting “lost” and how sin wasn’t something that you could turn on and off whenever you felt like it. Sin was something that didn’t get better, it just got bigger. And as it got bigger and bigger, the sinner’s world got smaller and smaller. I started to look around me, sort of nervously, wondering if anyone else seemed to think the guy was talking directly to them and describing exactly what was going on in their lives. He continued to be funny and likable, but what he was saying was not funny and I definitely did not like it.

I wanted to leave, but I couldn’t stop listening. My wife and kids were deeply puzzled by this. My wife assumed I had some harebrained marketing angle for staying. I couldn’t blame her and at the same time I would have been more comfortable if that was what I was actually doing.

Then, the guy did the unthinkable. He calls out to the men in the audience to actually stand up in front of everyone and admit they were completely “lost” and needed to be found by…..by God, of all things. By God, indeed.!

My first thought was dismissive. “Okay fella, nice show and have a safe trip back to New Zealand, but it’s time for me get off this bus. All these other guys can stay on this nutso trip to the end but I was just being polite. As a matter of fact, I should have gotten off several stops ago. It’s not like I needed this ride in the first place, I mean I am a self-made man and doing very well for myself, thank you. I have full control over my life and everything in it, and…” My own voice trailed off in my head – drowned out by the annoying Kiwi, who was now not only talking, but counting. Counting out a minute and daring a hall full of men to stand up in front of their wives and children and friends and admit they were “lost” and needed to be….what exactly I wasn’t sure. It had something to do with God, but not the one I knew. This one went by the proper name of Jesus Christ and this Winkie character made it seem somehow that the Son of God was standing at the front of the room with the speaker while at the same time slipping into the seats next to and behind me. It was definitely freaking me out. By the time the count reached 30 seconds it seemed God Himself was calling me out, challenging my manhood in front of my family. “So, you want to be a real man. A real father. A real husband. Then why don’t you just stand up, and start being the real thing instead of the big phony you’ve been pretending to be for so long.”

In my professional life, I was trained to, and completely comfortable with, leaping to my feet in front of judges, juries and rooms full of other attorneys and assorted spectators and making long, impassioned arguments without a moment’s thought or hesitation. But this was completely different. I was frozen. Terrified. My knees seemed locked in a seated position. A prideful, mocking voice snapped at me inside my head. “Are you crazy? Don’t even think about standing up. You came here to market yourself as a fearless lawyer, a guy with all the answers. Now, you’re going to stand up in front of all these prospective clients and announce to the whole room that you are ‘Completely lost!’ You will be the butt of the biggest lawyer joke of all time. You will be finished on Grand Island, if not all of Western New York. Besides, your wife and kids will see it, too..”

Yes, thankfully my wife and kids were there, too, that night. Perhaps the Tough Love God that called me out that night knew there was one sliver of living tissue left in a heart turned almost entirely to stone, and He found it by revealing to me in that instant that the fate of my children, my marriage, my life and my soul would be decided by whether I chose to stand up or stay seated when God called one last time in a New Zealand accent that advised I had “30 seconds.”

I closed my eyes, gripped the chair back in front of me and wrenched myself to my feet. Suddenly, I could see, which was remarkable because my eyes were still shut tight, out of fear that I would open them and see everyone staring at me. I couldn’t blame them if they were. I have testified to the sensation I felt that night several times in the past year, always in the same way and in the best words I can think of to describe it.

When I stood up from my chair it was like standing up from a long underwater swim in a sewer. It was no longer murky and dark. I could see everything. My wife. My children. All of my life’s true blessings seemed to shine so bright so suddenly. They were sights I had not truly seen in years and had almost completely forgotten. It was incredibly good.. But I could also see myself clearly, and I was filthy. I didn’t know how I was ever going to get clean again.

Thankfully, Jesus Christ, the Lord and Savior I never knew I had, has proven to me and my family that He can clean up any mess, heal any wound, restore any life, marriage or family, and replace the hardest heart of stone with one of reborn flesh, blood and life. Over the past 15 months, the Father, Son and Holy Spirit have introduced me to an alternative universe that I never knew existed and could not have imagined. Using His grace, the Bible, my wife’s faith and gift of mercy, and at least three different Christian church congregations -- most notably the people of Whitehaven Road Baptist Church and St. Stephen’s Roman Catholic Church for their annual Alpha course -- God has given me a real life, a real marriage, a real family, a real purpose, and a real salvation. It has not been easy and it has often been very painful, but neither I, nor my family would trade the change that God has worked for anything in the world.

After much soul-searching and prayer, I still practice law, but not at all like I used to. I realize we are all here to serve God’s purpose, and God has one for everyone, even lawyers. I am far richer for it, and, of course, I am referring to anything but money. My old prideful and selfish purposes seem foolish, trivial and embarrassing.

I believe I am, finally, on the true great journey of life, and while I am still constantly in need of God’s guidance and mercy, I know I will never be lost again so long as I keep my sights set on Him.

In ways that are truly “so God”, my family’s path has re-crossed with Marc Scibilia and his family. Through Marc, I learned that the past year has brought incredible health trials to your life. I was very sorry to hear that and greatly relieved to hear that you are recovering. I look forward to seeing you speak again someday soon.

For what it’s worth, I wanted you to have my testimony because it is also very much yours. I truly cannot thank you enough for your obedience in God’s service and the passion with which you use your considerable gifts of teaching and communication to shine God’s light into the darkest, neediest places in the human heart. – particularly mine.” - End


So, thank you all again. Your sacrificial investment of time, prayer and encouragement in our lives and ministry is something we deeply treasure. May He bless you and open new doors of opportunity in this coming Year of New Beginnings for us all –

Love in the Beloved of our souls –

Winkie, Fae and William.

Thank you Lord.

As of yesterday I was discharged from the Manukau Surgical Centre, held together with a combination of self-dissolving stitches, a large thin titanium-based mesh reinforcing me inside like some kind of internal body armor and fifty-one tiny staples holding my skin together until it heals. I have had something akin to the equivalent of a free makeover $100,000 Hollywood tummy-tuck to the envy here of my dear sister Lovonny. I was released Monday afternoon, infection-free, blood clots never developing, with a clean bill of health to finally return in a mere ten-minute trip to our little home.

Although we have been in phone contact with our dear son William and our friends Jim and Dee in Texas to let them know I was alright and the surgery was wonderfully successful, our hospital was not net-wired and I was unable to send this to post earlier.

It was gently raining as Fae drove me carefully home, with the sky an odd New Zealand island mixture of grey and blue loaded with dark and white clouds. I felt a little like Noah about to embark again from the Ark that had carried him and his family safely through the raging storm that had killed a world. The rain washed gently down the windows, helping again to make all things new and I looked out in great thankfulness to Him Who does all things well. Exit was almost the diametric opposite of the original overseas situation we found ourselves in. We had been fully filled in as to what we would need to do in recovery, the exit papers were already signed for us, and we walked out at our leisure when we were packed without desk queues, payment lines or legal drama on our own. This for me is the final surgical chapter in a six-month long odyssey that you have so graciously tracked and shared with us since mid-March of this year. To all of those friends who have faithfully prayed for us, shared with us, encouraged us and invested in this recovery, our very deepest gratitude. You have been so wonderful.

MSC is the newest, most beautiful hospital in our area and also the closest to us. James, a NZ civic engineer who is also one of Williams friends who has been with us in Texas and visited here was the one who drew up some of the plans for the adjoining Super-Clinic. It feels so unlike a hospital, with an atmosphere of light, life and help and I understand the conceptual founding of it involved also the work of a Christian.

Surgery began Tuesday morning shortly after 8:30 a.m. Our “God’s choice” surgeon, Dr. Andrew Hill had put us on his priority list, something in itself special as there have been some in our region who have had to wait more than a year for necessary operations. Andrew himself has been such a blessing to us with his down-to-earth wisdom and self-effacing humor, the very opposite of what often has come to be the mark of a genuinely distinguished and gifted surgeon, the aloof and impersonal professional like a House on steroids. During my six-day stay in recovery, I met a cheery male nurse called Paul who was currently carrying two twenty-hour a week shifts at two different hospitals. I said to him on learning of his long load “You could be a doctor in a couple of years.” He said “I wanted to be a doctor, but I passed the personality test and they wouldn’t let me.”

The one area in my operation that was a particular concern to me was this relatively rare phenomenon of ossification I mentioned in a previous blog – where stray bone cells attach to the edges of the cut tissue and begin turning that strong flexible fascia muscle into bone. It is as if the body was so keen to get healed it begins to build its own bridge across the gap. There is apparently not a large body of material on removing this. In our initial consultations, surgeons said that it would have to be looked at when the operation site was open, and decisions made then about the feasibility of its removal. Normally with unusual situations like this, you consult books about what has been done before, but what if there are no books? It was the thought behind the prayer I prayed for Andrew and his surgical team on the 7:00 am short trip from our home to the hospital; “Lord, if there is anything needing to be done outside the experience of the surgeon, give him wisdom.”

I was asked also what was for me an odd question from one of the attendants just before the surgery: “Is there any tissue from the operation you would like to save?” (Apparently a religious preference for some patients.) I said “Well yes. If they are able to remove the bone I’d like to see that.” We now have in our freezer something much bigger than I imagined that looks something like a large chicken bone and rattles solidly with thuds in the jar they delivered to us.

I noticed in the surgeons report under the procedure he had put “Creative Surgery.”

The operation took three hours, as expected despite the “creative” expedition needed. I was delivered to a nice private room with its own shower and toilet, an unexpected side-benefit for having been previously in an overseas hospital with a mandatory need for isolation procedures. I was able to keep my own odd hours without disturbing any other recovering patients and with total freedom to lay any reading and writing stuff without concern for space or security. Our marathon overseas struggle was occasion for witness once more to visiting nurses and doctors who had to review patient logs, and the quiet room became a daily procession of friends, relatives and ministries who came to see what the Lord had done for us. What would normally be an expensive or unavailable option was not only free, but necessary. Good are the strange preparatory paths of God.

Ahead now for us is a follow-up consultation tomorrow with Andrew, and then six weeks of nothing but rest to give time for the tissues to heal and join well – no weight-lifting, gymnastics, tri-athlete iron man marathons or workouts on the ab machine. (I never did these anyway.) Christmas coming then has already brought to us our greatest gift other than His Son. I have my life back, and my temple back in order, ready to recover over the next six months for the new beginnings He has for me. Thanks again all you who have loved us and thought about us over this long journey. You are special to us in His eyes.

Love in Him Who loves us utterly and amazingly –

Winkie and Fae


Posted by Israel Anderson

You know we have waited so long for some closure to this constant dealing with the consequence of the critical surgeries done in emergency situations to save my life; the continual battle to avoid system infection from an open wound more than 2-3 inches (6-8 cm) wide and over 8 ‡ inches (22 cm) long, the risk of re-rupture or growing weakness

These past six months have also been an ongoing display of miracles. I am a walking, talking, singing, speaking miracle fresh from the regenerating hand of God. You who have helped us so much in both warm little ways and sometimes huge and generous gifts of encouragement and blessing; you have invested so much in our lives to make this passage so much kinder than it might otherwise have been, thank you. He has been so good to us, and often through the hearts and hands of His friends, been our benefactor.

We embark now on the final operation. As of last week, we met with the team who we believe is the one who is going to help us in this last stage of preparation for recovery.
From the beginning, I have had three criteria in mind for this last surgery that involves stitching back together the large fascia tissue that holds the muscle groups together to repair what amounts to a huge hernia running down my middle like a missing tissue tie.

The operation though not critical, and could be counted as cosmetic is not without risk. When piercing the outer shell of the body in any situation there is always the danger of admitting infection to the inner systems, and with any traumatic wound the possibility of a hematoma, or subsequent blood clots that can in turn bring on stroke, heat failure or lung embolism. Professor John Windsor the first surgeon who so generously made time for us to discuss in detail what was involved and also took the trouble to re-state simply what actually happened to me and the steps to save my life taken in Korea from the translated surgical notes they supplied said it best: “It’s not a haircut”.

In undertaking this, we are already aware of and reminded again of the risks by these great consultants we have had, but the alternative for me was hardly livable. To spend the rest of my useful life without the freedom to run, preach strongly, or even play tennis well, requiring constant extra care and clothing restraints is of course possible. I could still function and there would be no critical risks living like that. I, for one, am glad and thankful that through the prayers of the saints, the dedication and skill of those who first undertook to save me, and over it all, the grace of God, that I am still here. There are many who would perhaps be content of course, to just be alive. But I have never lived, nor ever wanted to live contented to be “just alive”. I want to be fully alive, as great as I can be for God and for His Kingdom with what He gives and graces, and until I see Him face to face, want to go to the very edge of what He wills. “Whatsoever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might.”

My Dads’ book finally came out a few weeks ago for national release here as one of the three cycling legends of our nation that span the key generations of championship competition in this world sport. Titled “Bill Pratney - Never Say Die” it is a wonderful compilation of some of the career highlights of this great and good man I had the privilege of living with and loving for more than sixty years. I have written sometimes about him, spoken often about him both in public and private and certainly missed him many times now since his death in 2001 aged ninety-two. We gave our lives to Jesus together, my Daddy and I, in a little Auckland street mission where I got in the same night a new Dad as well as new Father. He was more than a champion to me, more than a icon who was the first to be called the original “Iron Man” more than the man George Bernard Shaw on seeing him compete called him “one of the three greatest natural athletes of our time.” He also was my brother.

I never was or would be able to even come close to what he did on a bike, this man who would think nothing of getting up at 4:00 am and riding a hundred miles before breakfast on a daily training run, who won almost every major event in our nation in both speed and stamina, whose career nearly ended at 16 after a near-fatal road crash but who recovered from a coma and was still competing on an Olympic level at the Masters Games in Brisbane at 86. I probably never will, even if they have bike races in heaven.

But as I told the cyclists in attendance at the book launch, when I was in critical condition on Korea and all the major systems of my body begin to shut down and die, though I had nine tubes and thirteen drips in me to keep me alive, one thing kept on going – my heart. And I told them; “I got my heart from my Dad.”

As I mentioned in my previous blog I have thought about and prayed about what we would need for this completing surgery. I was looking to the Lord for three threads to come together for whoever might head up the surgical team. (1) A real Christian, a real child of God that genuinely knew Christ so that there would be more than one hand on the scalpel and the scissors; (2) someone who really knew their stuff, with a wide and deep knowledge of what they were doing (3) if at all possible, the operation performed as a public service instead of the somewhat costly ($8-10,000) private alternative. Both men we consulted with first met all these conditions for me; both John Windsor and Ian Bisset were part of the same team of specialists in Auckland Hospital, both with missionary backgrounds, both teaching professors, both willing to undertake this operation in the public or private sector. We learned so much from them both, and appreciated both their wisdom and personal interest in my situation.

I also had as I last mentioned, an unspoken wish; more like an unvoiced trust; that if it was really God, there would be no need to push for things, to attempt to manipulate or have to try to pull strings. While there must always be our own choices and personal responsibility for our actions, especially for those that affect our whole life and future, I believe as I have said before that living by faith is living without scheming. I believe, and have lived like this, that if it is really God, He will make it plain and put it all together for His children. He did after all say” “Seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness and all these things will be added to you.” There is always the possibility of demonic and human resistance, but the life of faith does not require striving, but trusting. We fight from a place of utter rest.

What is interesting with these godly men, is that when we first asked for some contact with those recommended to us by friends who visited me in Korea, we were unable to reach them for various reasons. Two of them were actually out of the country. The first contact was eventually made by one of these surgeons himself to us by phone, and all subsequent connections were then done on a personal and relational level. The Kingdom of God is built on friendships. We have found these men who invested time and concern in us not only to be of the highest medical standards, but with genuine personal commitment and convictions wrapped in a wisdom that transcends mere practice and professionalism. They really cared, and we are truly grateful for their help and advice.

The surgeon who will head up my operation on the 6th of November is the culmination of all these consultations and recommendations. Like his fellow-surgeons, he also has a missionary background with three years in Africa. He is likewise an experienced teaching professor who heads up his division of the surgical department. The hospital (Manukau Counties) is not only one of the newest in the country with top equipment and facilities, it is literally ten minutes away from our home, making it the closest hospital to us. And because of its location, I qualify for a public operation there, not needing a private undertaking. And because it is in a public hospital, there is at-hand an entire backup in case of complications, rather than the smaller assembled team of a private surgery.

We had our preliminary meeting last Tuesday. On that day he scheduled the surgery, another small miracle when there can be a waiting list for public surgery sometimes literally longer than a year or more. Yesterday we spent a couple of hours of preliminary operation preparations, in discussions, asked and answered questions with nice nurses and doctors. I had my height measured (no doubt in case I shrunk from this commitment) was weighed (in the balances and hopefully, not found wanting). I had my blood pressure measured (good), blood taken for tests from a highly trained phlebotamist (you ask? –from the veins), my lungs listened to (still breathing)

And oh yes – I also had an EKG. The verdict? My heart is also still good.

Thanks Dad..

We value your prayers. Surgery is scheduled the morning of November 6th Manukau Counties Hospital. Lord willing, I will spend only 3-4 days in the hospital for initial post-op recovery, and then be free to return home for the longer task of healing all over again. Remember us now, that all the time, love and gifts invested us over these past six months will be brought to a great close in this. As Dad also said “Son, its not how you begin the race that matters. It’s how you finish that counts.”

Blessings in the Beloved –

Winkie and Fae




Posted by Israel Anderson

Well here we are again on another new adventure with God! These past three weeks have been simply a blur of great blessing. We have seen overwhelming generosity from the saints in this nation in helping us with everything from broken household items to major projects on our property. It seems as if heaven opened up on us from different avenues in wholly unexpected ways and we are deeply grateful to the Lord for what He is doing.

Early in August, we were made honored guests of a great local church I had spoken in briefly before leaving for Korea that fateful March. Fae’s parents have already been recipients of their kindness for some time now, in their providing a ride for them to church every Sunday. This blessing was set up for them over a year ago by our friends Duane and Jenny Newport, when Dad Rees-Thomas became legally blind and could no longer drive. Although the church has since had a major change of leadership, the new team likewise continued this kindness and now have committed themselaves to helping us also.

This one work has been so wonderful with their time and expertise, sending out a small resource team to see how they could help us. From their investment in our lives we have a new clothes dryer, a friend from thirty years in the past who has given us time every two weeks to bring our jungle into the Divine order called a garden, a man from a Wellington team of professionals who donate time and materials to repair and fix things for a ministry who came out to help us with our leaky conservatory roof. As I look out our side window, there is now a beautiful concrete driveway stretched all the way to the footpath instead of two muddy ruts carved out by cars.

They asked Fae and I if we would like to attend a major conference they hold each year as their guests, and were accommodated by them at a beautiful new hotel overlooking the bay for the week-long duration of the ministry.

We had opportunity to meet with three of their guest speakers, Don Thomas, a worship leader from Atlanta, Ian Green, a friend of mine from Whales formerly with Youth Alive! in England, and now active in planting many churches in Eastern Europe. The third ministry guest was Bill Johnston, the revival pastor from Redding California where the Lord has been doing so many great things in their city and through his ministry. Though this was the longest time I have ever been in meetings since the surgeries in Korea, the Lord sustained me and we deeply enjoyed the ministry and fellowship of that week. To cap it off, we were signally honored by a special offering taken up for us from the convention towards providing support for us during these many months of restricted travel and sharing until I am fit and well enough again for battle. This was the largest single gift we have ever had in our ministry, taken up from among the over 200 pastors there and both national and international attendees to honor us for the many years of ministry we have spent in His service both home and abroad. Thank you so much Martin Steel, pastor of Harborside Church, as well as those attending Manifest Presence who so marvelously gave of your love, prayers and precious substance to help us so deeply in keeping our calling. We are so touched.

Following the convention, we hosted some of the speakers and international visitors at our home over the next two weeks, showing them some of the other part of the Revival Library in my New Zealand study. There are some gems of historical greatness in God on these shelves, some books more than three hundred years old and sets that show in every generation He has raised up those who listen to His voice and do what He bids.

Other internationals followed, friends and fellow-ministries coming by to see us and to encourage us together. First was a small team from the Philippines, where Fae and I originally sent 200 copies of the first Youth Aflame manual in the sixties that were able to help disciple and train three generations of young Christians. They in turn have been used of the Lord to win thousands of people to Jesus and raised up hundreds of new churches both there and abroad. I never fail to marvel at the power of the Word of God when it is put in the hands of the hungry, and what He can do when their hearts are set on a holy life-long romance with Jesus. Kelvin and Ribena Burton came from Lindale Texas for a three week stay here making our home their first port of call and bringing us a suitcase full of Texas goodies.

Last week our good friend Che Ahn from Pasadena specially altered his international ticket to spend a day with us on his way to Australia and then on to Korea. He has been a friend of many years starting from our first time with him when he was 19 and being able to help direct him to the work and ministries of some of the great saints of the past who saw revival in their time. God has signally honored Che and his friend Lou Engle in not only launching the Call prayer movement that has involved literally millions of young people in a “nameless, faceless” call to seek God for their nations, but also to raise up a wonderful church both in Harvest Rock and the H.I.M network across the globe now involving more than 2,000 churches.

Looking at him again last week I remembered how much of a risk he and his young family took in laying down a previous work they founded to pursue God 24/7. They dared believe that He could bring literally hundreds of thousands of young people together without advertised bands or speakers, just to seek His face and pray. Undaunted by the best paid financial advice they were given to not do this, that all the odds were against them, that they were wholly unknowns and unless some 80,000 kids could come to support such an event that was “just prayer” they would probably lose both their homes and church in trying to pay off such a massive undertaking as renting the Washington Mall for it. Heart in mouth, Che and Lou sought the Lord yet again, heard His clear word to “Just do it” and went ahead in faith to see one of the two largest gatherings of young people in the history of America, where more than 400,000 youth stood together hour after hour even in the rain. to worship God and seek Him.

Last week we caught up also with David McCracken and his wife Margaret, who I first met in my little office decades ago, where he as a young pastor with great dreams shared something of his passion with me. Surviving the loss of his church and Christian school where our son Billy once attended during his time in New Zealand and a major life-threatening heart attack, David has not only been a survivor, but has since been used of the Lord to encourage hundreds of churches both in Australia and other parts of the world. The Kingdom of God is built on friendship. In these and so many other wonderful weavings of love, I see the truth of the Scripture that calls us to cast our bread upon many waters, to see it come back to us having touched so many lives.

Reflecting again with gratitude on the unbelievable volume of prayer launched on our behalf during the crisis, I was reminded of how great a legacy God has given us in permitting the technologies of the time to link us instantly. We know a true revival affects our neighbors. Love restored to Christ will call also on those within reach of our influence. But the neighbor of the new Millennium is no longer just the person geophysically next door to you. We are rather, as my friend John Dawson says, linked by “lateral villages of relational communication” so that which happens to us can instantly be shared with hundreds, even thousands of “neighbors”.

Yesterday morning, I went again early to the airport to see off yet another friend returning to Australia who I have known since his teenage years. He now has a wonderful ministry helping other churches join together to bless the marketplaces of the city with righteous renovations, and is doing a new book :”Where Does God Go On Mondays?” Danny told me that when I was critically ill, our dear friend Dennis Slape of Adelaide called him immediately on his cell – and he was in Sweden in a conference with 200 pastors! He immediately called them also to prayer and did the same in the next conference with some 2,000 pastors. Scores of others simultaneously did the same thing. Thus, in just a few days, an exponentially expanding torrent of prayer was released for me, where we estimate that there must have been literally tens of thousands of people holding my fragile life up to the throne. No wonder I was spared for another round. By God’s grace, you can call my movie Winkie Balboa.

So where are we physically with this operation? The wound has finally healed. I have been discharged from the weekly visits of the District Nurse checking it, and on our last visit with Dr. Ian Bisset he pronounced me good to go. It seems as if the final operation will be done by his friend Andrew in our district and we will meet with him to discuss a date when he returns from his three weeks away from our newest hospital – Manukau Counties Hospital, the “Super-Clinic”.

Andrew seems to ably fulfill my three expectations from God on this final surgery – (1) a genuine Christian, so that more than one hand will be on the knife (he was a missionary in Africa for three years before taking up this post) – (2) a highly-trained professional who really knows what he is doing (a teaching professor, whose specialty is this sort of operation) so I don’t have someone who is just a “practicing” surgeon and (3) a public, rather than a private operation, saving some $8.000-10,000 of Kingdom funds.

It also is a fulfillment of an unspoken wish that has guided most of my faith life – that the final selection would not have to be somehow manipulated, pushed or prodded from our end but become in itself a testimony to the flowing faithfulness and care of God. I believe that living by faith is living without scheming. Scary, but always great. We trust Him with our lives, and rest on His promises that He that feeds the sparrows can even more wonderfully take care of His children. (Matt. 6:33)

Blessings, dear ones. Your continued prayer is a life-line for us to His throne.

You are loved and deeply appreciated. We are thankful for all you have done for me and our little family. We look to see the story of His love grow wider.

Winkie and Fae



Posted by Israel Anderson

Hi friends and prayer support saints around the world –

I am now officially another year older with my 63rd birthday the first week of this month.

The wonder for which we thank God is that I would have this birthday at all. As one of my cards comments: “Happy Birthday. It is Better Being Over the Hill than Under the Hill.” We have hosted my brother-in law from Hawaii and his son in Australia – (both Davids) – at our home last week, and also had some great calls from some of our closest friends in Australia and America this past fortnight. Thanks so much for the birthday communication and encouragement. I have a T-Shirt that says “I’m Not Old. I’m a Recycled Teenager”.

The last two weeks have brought more interesting changes. I have entered a regimen of physiotherapy in our local Middlemore hospital for two one-hour sessions a week over the next six weeks. The workouts basically involve machine training – cycle, rowing, hill-climbing, grinding and leg-lifts as well as a cycle of weight and cardio training at home; all designed to help increase my strength and stamina. As I mentioned in the last post I was told I need to get back at least to the level of fitness I had before the first three operations before undertaking this last one. Although quote: “not a haircut” – the operation may take up to 3+ hours to complete – with good fitness, recovery time on this is supposed to be much shorter – it may be as early as three days out of the hospital.

Some of you know that part of the procedure to save my life in Korea from the system-wide infection killing me was to flood my body with antibiotics and saline/glucose fluid where my entire body looked almost double in size. Our friend Trevor Yaxley of Lifeway ministries (who kindly traveled with Fae from New Zealand to help her on the trip to join me in that critical time) stayed on with us in Korea a couple more days until William arrived from the Sudan. This was in the initial stages when I was under anesthesia. My fingers then were apparently so swollen that there was no longer any spaces between them, and when Trevor touched them they had no give; they felt like hard pieces of wood. I am told I looked like the Michelin Man. I had up to 9 tubes and 13 drip feeds connecting me to life-support machinery, as almost everything began to shut down except my heart.

After I had my miraculous recovery some weeks later, the long bout under coma had sapped more than two-thirds of my muscle strength. At first I could not stand, let alone walk, could scarcely whisper and there was even some doubt about my memory and thinking returning to full function. The torrent of prayer let loose around the world was a wonderful support for us all then, as also were the calls of other dear friends like Steve Hill and Bob Weiner who waited in the wings in the US ready to drop everything and join us for additional support if needed – all a tremendous blessing to us. These faith-building phone calls and words of encouragement contributed massively to my eventual emergence for which we are still deeply thankful. Thus began the road towards return to full strength, the journey which I am now engaged in for the long haul.

I have some five weeks left before the next consultation with our new Christian surgeon friend September 14th. During this time I ask for your prayers that the cut down the centre of my abdomen will fully close up and that my strength from these workouts and walks will come up to a new level in preparation for this final surgery, date yet to be determined.

It was good to touch base also by phone with friends who I have ministered with for more than a decade usually during this time in the US summer. Larry Andes of Fishnet Ministries, one of the longest-running Jesus Festivals in America and Tim Dilena at War Week in Detroit both have continued to publicly pray for us and been a wonderful source of support, honor and blessing through their ministries. I was able to convey my thanks at these events again this year through them to friends who have loved and appreciated us. My “Six-Mile” spoof video from a previous War Week with the “Directors Commentary” is now featured on YouTube at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dMiVGEqzua4 and showcases the creativity of Steve Andes and the talented team from NXTOnline in Illinois that contribute ministry also to this event, with youth and senior pastors training young people for school and street ministries in a city known as one of the worst in America for single-parent or no-parent homes.

During this time of convalescence, the previously-mentioned work on the second volume of Divinity, the Nature and Character of God in Creation is also progressing well. Every week I marvel at how rich and deep is God’s Word and how comprehensive His love and practical wisdom for us. Such topics in the Spiritual Roots of Vocation as His work as a Maker, Teacher, Singer, Sculptor, Leader and scores of others are full of challenge and insight, and simply sitting down with hundreds of these verses I have felt some of the added commentary almost write itself. Despite the challenges of this recuperation year and missing so many loved friends and events I have been involved with yearly, one of the things we have been thankful for is the time to write. Perhaps God let Paul go to prison because it was the only way he would have had time to finish his part of the New Testament. In my own small form of prison, the gems of His instruction and care shine.

Blessings to you all

The World’s Oldest Living Teenager

Meeting with another great Auckland surgeon this past Friday, introduced to us by our friends the Garrets. We appreciate so much both the Garrets and their massive investment in our lives, especially in the early days when I first went into hospital. David helped arrange Faes’ ticket to Korea, sent numerous emails to friends alerting them to my situation and even did things like man the phone at our home to help free her up to get ready. Mindy their daughter had had a similar emergency situation to mine. Although technically done for the night, on finding out she was their daughter this surgeon had stepped in to help her. Both his surgery and post-op care was wonderful and Mindy felt strongly that we should meet with him for consultation on my proposed fourth operation.

Ian has a missionary background himself with ten years in Nepal. He still returns each year to help out with an organization in that nation. As another believer, he also knew of my ministry and freed up some consultation time so Fae and I were able to spend a valuable guest forty minutes with him. He also went through the translated notes of the three operations and showed us what he thought had happened to precipitate the crises.

He also seems keen to take on my case personally, and we have set up another visit in two months time to perhaps decide on an operation time and venue. It turns out that there is another experienced head surgeon in a new local hospital also a believer and Ian believes it will be possible for me to have the surgery done as public-funded rather than private operation. This of course would be a wonderful answer to prayer.

I have wanted three things for this operation; that it would be headed up by someone of high competence and experience, so that the huge expense of all the previous surgeries will not be annulled by having the wrong person on the final job; that they would be a real believer, so that the Lord will have someone who listens to Him at the helm; and that we would be good stewards of the gifts of love, time and finance that friends have invested in our lives for this time. We have waited on Him for His peace in this.

One of the great blessings we have seen through all of this is the constant and unwavering care of God and the surprising little arrangements to encourage us He has sent our way. I have always believed that living by faith is living without scheming. Even when we are not traveling or ministering, His faithfulness is ever new and amazing to us.

This past week has been such an example. A district nurse pays us a visit once a week to check on the progress of my wound, still stubbornly holding somehow back on healing. (There remains a small patch about the size of a quarter near the bottom of the wound where the final skin has not yet closed up.) We got a visit from a new nurse a couple of days before the consultation. On talking to her about the possibilities of a public operation, it turns out she served as a nurse under this local surgeon for a year, She said he was the only one she would trust her own body to for this operation. Consultations have been initiated by others who contacted these surgeons for us. We have not had to beat paths to their doors to gain an audience with these skilled and busy men who have helped us get a perspective on what has happened, what is going on now and what is possible. Knowing how difficult it is to set this up, we so appreciate Gods’ hand in this.

Here is the update so far on where I am. No operation can be attempted until I am fully fit and my wound has been completely closed up. I am told I need to be as fit for this last surgery as I was when I went into the first ones. John said that while the operation was “no haircut” and could take up to three hours or more to complete, that recovery under these circumstances is faster and I could be out of hospital in three or four days.

The option to forgo the surgery does not look preferable, although technically the wound allows the body to still be fully functional. Any surgery then would not come under emergency or critical parameters, but be treated as cosmetic. To leave things as they are however, would be learning to live with a 22-cm hernia. At any future time the bowel could protrude out and retract at will, though not be at any great risk for strangulation.

One strange thing about this band that needs somehow to be rejoined to bring my abs back into line, is what is happening to those two internal cut edges. My body seems so keen on being healed that the ends of the cut band are turning into bone. In effect, I have at present two breastbones. Ian says this ossification is rare and they only see one or two cases of this a year. I suggested perhaps that these bone ends might be joined by a titanium chain and I would henceforth have a built-in bullet-proof vest. Fit for future dangerous ministry areas? I don’t think they will take that option. but a mesh is possible.

Thanks again for your faithful prayers and encouragement. I had opportunity Thursday to go on Radio Rhema, our major Christian station here to thank them and their nation-wide audience. They carried my story (read aloud from our blog for weeks to the nation) and made many aware of my need. Many friends continue to pray for us, some still daily and I hope to be able to contact those I usually minister with around this time to thank them for their support. I have also begun work on Divinity II, the second volume of the Nature and Character of God that focuses on the character of God as seen in His creation. It will cover aspects of our uniqueness as a universe, solar system, planet and as an ecosystem, the wonder of mankind and new areas like the spiritual roots of vocation. It will also contrast the beauty of His making with the ugliness and sadness of the Fall. Volume 1 which has had many appreciative readers, took some 15 years to compile. Hopefully while retaining the usefulness and resource riches of Vol. I with new tools of technology and research, Volume II should be completed in far less time. Volume III, last of the set will deal with the Nature and Character of God in the reconciliation of His creation.

Blessings in the Beloved –

Winkie and Fae: P.O. Box 215 Manurewa, South Auckland New Zealand.

END.


Posted by Israel Anderson

It has been a special privilege to have had our son William with us these past two months to help in my recovery process. He has been a signal example of the loving servant heart of Christ to both Fae and I in all that he has contributed to our family. From the time he first made his way to Korea from the Sudan mission-field where he was working with a YWAM Mercy Works medical team, his life and ministry has been a constant source of joy and inspiration to all who met him. 

For me, William's gift of service to his Dad was genuinely a God-send. Beginning with his part on his initial arrival in helping the medical team restore a critical function for me as I lay in a coma, he brought a strength and resilient encouragement to us that helped us endure what sometimes seemed a nightmare. His cheerful caring commitment to my welfare in the long night and early morning watches of the lonely hospital ward, and unwavering strength - despite times of great stress and demand far beyond the daily duty of the extra mile -  to help oversee my physical rehabilitation have been amazing. Bringing to bear what he has learned in the regimen of physical exercise, his was the thankless task of helping coax my dormant muscles back to function and bringing my protesting failed frame in its weakness and pain back into working order. He has helped me keep up my prescribed nutrition daily, served us every day here at home as a driver and gofer for appointments and commitments, been a strong shoulder and servant minister to his mother,  and encouraged me in every needed discipline. Besides all of this he has taken time in the early hours of the morning to post progress reports on the blog to keep you, our friends informed of my condition.

 William, you are a true champion and faithful friend, a son who, like the radical Irishman in Braveheart in so many situations proved indeed what you pledged to me: "I got your back."  We love you and appreciate more than we can say your godly sacrifice and service. As you return to your chosen field of ministry and your own familiar friends in the US this week, we also thank YWAM Tyler for the sacrificial loan back to us of our most treasured and special loved one. We honor you, not only for all you have done, but for being to the core who you are in Him. Thank you, dear brother in the battle, our son. 

Winkie Pratney

END.


Posted by Israel Anderson

Well, the time has come for me to depart for the United States. I have a wedding to attend in California on route to Texas (no, it's not my wedding!), and then it's back to Youth With A Mission Tyler, where I work full time in the video department. Future updates will probably be done by my dad (which I'm sure most of you will be glad to hear). I leave him to the grace of God and in the hands of my mother. It's been over three months since I left the Sudan to visit Winkie in Korea. I won't be back here in New Zealand again until December (provided no future emergencies beckon my attention). Thanks, everyone for your prayers for us and for me in particular. Goodbye, and God bless.

William Pratney

END.


Posted by Israel Anderson

Winkie and I met with Dr. John Winsor, recommended gastro-intestinal surgeon and professor of surgery at Auckland University Medical Center. He gave us some interesting news. The first thing he said, is that Winkie is at this time able to use his abdominal muscles! True, they are still separated, and only surgery will correct that, but he said that the actual muscles are usable! Winkie practically got a new lease on life! Of course, with any strenuous use of that area, he will get a bulge, but since the open space is so large, there's no risk of hernia strangulation. When the bowel goes through a small opening in the muscle wall layer and gets stuck, that is where the danger comes in. But since Winkie has a large space, there's nothing really for the bowel to get stuck on.

Winkie is free now to exercise (he is of course, still quite weak, and far from being able to get back out on the tennis court- we're not even letting him drive yet), get well and basically get back into life. You can imagine what mentally, being told by a speciallist that all those things you were told before that you shouldn't or couldn't or wouldn't be able to do you actually can do would do.

Winsor also encouraged him to take time to heal up, get well, and think about all the different surgical possibilities that lie before him. It seems that he has a number of options, but needs to decide if he wants to go through the public system (is free, but takes time, and particular surgeon is not guaranteed) or go private (you can pick your surgeon, but it costs you). If he were to go private, he could pick what type of surgery he wanted (aparently, the same basic purpose can be attained through many different ways- Winsor laid out several- with or without mesh, if with, which kind of mesh and where it's put, if without, which muscle layer is brought together- there are so many options). Winsor told us, however, if we want private, it will cost us about $10,000NZ.

Dad has a lot of time to think about it, and mull things over in his mind. He also will have time to work on written material, and, as I've found out today, is planning to do at least 4 more books- Volumes 2 & 3 of Divinity (The Nature and Character of God), an updated version of Youth Aflame, and a small counselling-type book.

William Pratney

END.


Posted by Israel Anderson

Hi everyone. Winkie is doing a little better. David Hannaford, a fellow minister and naturopath from Australia has been visiting us for a few days. He brought all sorts of supplements and natural healing products for Winkie, giving him a month's supply of things to take. David had prophetic words for all of us, and was an encouragement and a blessing. Winkie's voice has improved- he can talk all day now without it giving out (going hoarse), and his wound is looking better. ...still not fully healed yet but it's getting there.

Over the weekend we were able to visit with Dale, Dave and Melinda Garrett (Scripture and Song) and do some catching up. They've just recorded a new album, and it's scheduled to come out later on this year. It's great having friends and family in the form of the extended body of Christ, all around the world.

Thanks again to everyone who has sent in cards, letters, flowers, money, etc. We are so blessed!!! May God bless you for your love and generosity.

William Pratney.

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Posted by Israel Anderson

We all (Winkie, Fae, William, Israel, Jim & Myself) really appreciate your ongoing faithfulness in continuing to pray for Winkie even though the immediate danger seems to be passed. We are trusting God, not only for complete healing, but for real direction - to make sure the Lord is in control of what Winkie's ministry looks like for the future. Our hearts are laid out before Him, and we are asking that He will do more than just heal - but give rise to new dimensions, new anointing, new power, and new areas for effective service for Winkie as well as the rest of our little team.

Thanks so much,
Dee Patton


Posted by Israel Anderson

Dad's doing alright. He's still recovering. At the moment, he's still regaining the use of his left hand. His wound is still healing, and it hurts him to stand or walk completely upright. He's also on antibiotics as they've recently found fluid around his left lung and that his wound wasn't doing so well- apparently it was gaping and the top layer of skin had come off. What happened is, a relative that's been helping us came to visit. She checked his wound and found it wasn't in such a good state. I was out at the time and had the car, but she was able to take him in and have someone look at him. They did an X-ray and found fluid near his left lung. The person who saw him has recommended no lifting, no exercising and has prescribed a broad-spectrum heavy sulphar drug that is supposed to clear up both the infection and the fluid near his lung.

William Pratney

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Posted by Israel Anderson

Rest in the Lord and wait patiently for Him… (Psalm 37:7a) So often in Scripture, growth in God is directly related to patience. One of the great cards I got among the hundreds of other wonderful missives you sent in to me and my family said "God created the world in six days and rested on the seventh. I'm sure He wouldn't mind if you took a few more days off."

My rehabilitation sometimes seems to me to be so agonizingly slow, but it is still encouraging to see small signs of healing progress each week. My left hand (writing) somehow damaged as an after-effect of the operations, which shook uncontrollably at any even small attempt to make some kind of legible mark (printing, signature) is slowly responding again. Nerves apparently may regenerate at a rate of a millimeter a day. It is a joy to know I will be able to freely type again as well as do such a simple thing as sign my name. A simple legible shopping list is a real achievement. For those of you waiting to see more personal posts from me will be glad to know these are becoming possible, without having to slowly dictate what has been happening for William to send on my behalf. My apologies for not doing more; it has been an effort to do even simple things.

My voice is still around half-mast in volume, but it was also encouraging to find I can still quietly hold a tune. Singing has been such a key part in ministry over the years in both personal worship and the ability to communicate challenge and encouragement to others, especially among the music communities I have fellowshipped with and sometimes been privileged to mentor. I work on this from time to time when no-one is around and trust this too will be restored to normal.

We have still not finalized a surgeon or date here for the fourth and final operation, to restore the use of my abs. We are trusting the Lord for this to be guided by one of His own children with the expertise to literally close up this very painful chapter of my life in the best possible way. After over $100,000 dollars worth of critical surgery and other medical expenses the relative simplicity of rejoining the band holding these frontal muscles seems a given, but we have learned to take nothing for granted and a mistake here could undo a massive amount of care and work. We value your prayers.

We have been blessed with the visit of friends here at home to continue to encourage pray for and support us as we hold the Lord's hand in the unglamorous walk of faith where daily little miracles are not the subject of headlines and articles. We love you very much.

Winkie Pratney

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Posted by Israel Anderson

Several people have asked about how they can express their thanks to Dr Lim, who took such wonderful care of Winkie while he was in South Korea and his home church, Harvest Shalom Church, who have given so much to help save his life and give him back to the world. Here is an address for the church below. If you would like to send a thank you card to Harvest Shalom and Dr. Lim please feel free.

Harvest Shalom Church
42 Boorimdong
Gwancheon, Gyunggido
South Korea

Dee Patton

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Posted by Israel Anderson

Hi guys. Winkie is doing okay. His old GP (now specializing and no longer in general practice) visited today. Winkie has been battling some blood clots in his legs and upper thighs. Refusing drugs, and using the natural means he has the doctor (through use of an ultra-sound machine) determined that the products he had been using have been working. I repeat, the doctor determined that his natural products have been working, because he could see two clots broken up in the blood vessel. However, the clots are still there, and though we're not overly concerned obviously it's a battle that isn't over yet. Winkie faced blood clots years earlier and was treated with the usual- Luvenox, Wafarin... but he doesn't want to go that route anymore. The natural means he has have the ability to break up blood clots in the blood vessel, and thin the blood, but unfortunately, he's running out of the one that does the first job. Fortunately, one of our friends has just ordered him more.

Winkie is resting a lot, and I think eating NZ food has been nice for him. (He's very particular as to his food! Such a gourmet palate!) Consequently, I've been learning some of the secrets he has for good food. Even though his palate has returned, his appetite really hasn't. A bowl's worth of food seems to be as much as he can manage at the moment (we try to encourage him- believe me). Also, even though he's able to walk (it's more like a stagger still) and talk, his voice still isn't doing so well.

I'm hoping to get him connected with a physiotherapist this week, as Mom and I don't seem to be doing a great job helping him get into shape. He gets tired so quickly,