CPR Missions

Weekly Update #2

As we come to the end of our second week living as missionaries in Papua New Guinea, we are still very much on “high alert.” I’m learning to juggle leadership responsibilities at the Mount Hagen Missionary Home while making sure my family’s needs are met, caring for employees, and driving in a foreign country where the laws and customs are very different. All things considered, we are adjusting well.

If you’ve noticed less activity on the CPR Missions Facebook, YouTube, or TikTok, that is because we’re intentionally trying to “take it easy” so we don’t make unnecessary mistakes or experience burnout. PNG is often referred to as the mission field where missionaries “go to die”—not in a physical sense, but because the phrase “what can go wrong, will go wrong” has proven true for many. The constant pressure and stress have caused some missionaries to leave the field. We’re aware of that reality, but we’re trusting the Lord and taking things one step at a time.

This week, I spent time getting to know the eight employees at the Mt. Hagen Mission Station: Ipson, Tama, Raphael, Samson, Delma, Loame, and Esther. We have been planning the upcoming Holiday Party, which will be a great icebreaker and an opportunity to meet everyone’s families. I also spent time explaining some business matters, such as their regular, overtime, and double-time pay rates, and showed them how to calculate their own wages. I told them it was important for them to know this—not only to protect themselves from mistakes, but also to ensure nobody would ever cheat them. Most of them didn’t fully understand the concept, but the gesture was well received and helped to build trust. They appreciated having open communication and knowing that I was “for” them.

Missionary Chad Wells from the Pangia Ministry Team has invited me to teach evangelism classes at his Bible college, about three hours away. These classes will begin in June and will require a weekly commute by bus and an overnight stay at the Pangia Mission Station. I’m very thankful for the opportunity to invest in pastors and preachers in PNG who want to learn how to effectively lead people to the Lord.

As a family, we’ve started attending Temple Baptist Church in Mt. Hagen. I strongly believe in the local church and that ministry should flow from it—even though our sending church is 8,000 miles away. I asked Pastor Camulus if he would shepherd my family and me and look after our souls while we’re here. He was happy to do so, and the church members have been very welcoming. We’ll be praying about how I might be able to help at the church and/or Bible college.

Toward the end of the week, I asked a fifteen-year-old national to sit with me on the front stoop of the missionary home so I could practice speaking Pidgin. His mother soon approached us—she turned out to be one of the housekeepers at the mission home. Her name is Loame.

I shared the gospel with her son, mostly in Pidgin while reading from my notes. When we came to the “good news,” Loame looked surprised. She had never understood grace. She believed Jesus taught us how to become good enough to go to heaven, but she had never understood the atonement—until that moment. I quickly ran to my flat, grabbed my English/Pidgin side-by-side Bible, and read through the key passages explaining why Jesus shed His blood, that the payment for sin had already been made, and that salvation is a free gift by the grace of God through faith in the finished work of the Savior. There was a sweet spirit present as she trusted Christ as her Savior from the heart.

Then another miracle happened. A lady approached us from off the streets with tears in her eyes. She saw a white man holding a Bible and sharing the Word of God and felt compelled to come closer. Her name is Nancy. She said she had been living on the streets for the past two weeks and had been staying at the hospital (haus sik) across the street. She also believed she needed to “change her ways” and “be a good person,” but she saw in the Bible that the victory was won at Calvary.

I invited her to sit with us on the stoop. Without any prompting, she bowed her head and prayed—along with Loame and her son. Afterward, Nancy said, “I can’t describe it, but I feel so free and relieved.” She agreed to come to the mission home Sunday morning and ride with us to church.

Loame confessed Christ as her Savior and was overjoyed that God sends missionaries to preach the gospel. She was especially thankful that God had lifted her burden. Seeing the care-worn heaviness leave her face and be replaced with pure joy made every challenge we had faced so far worth it. Loame was just as excited to see the Spirit of God draw Nancy over so she, too, could partake of the water of the river of life—freely!

The next day, Loame was willing to do a testimony video, where she expressed her gratitude for salvation and for God sending missionaries to the people of Papua New Guinea. It will be published on the CPR Missions social media platforms very soon. Be on the lookout!

December 20, 2025

Thank you for following along on our missionary journey to Papua New Guinea. I will share a weekly update as opportunities allow. As they often say about Papua New Guinea, expect the unexpected—a phrase we are already learning to appreciate in new ways.

On December 13, 2025, my family and I said our final goodbyes to family and friends and boarded a plane from Knoxville, Tennessee, bound for Mt. Hagen, Papua New Guinea. It will be the last time we see them face to face until we return on furlough in two years. The moment was bittersweet, yet filled with peace as we looked ahead. As the Apostle Paul wrote, “Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended: but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 3:13–14, KJV).

Our flights went smoothly, and we spent the night in Brisbane, Australia. The following day, we took buses and trains to visit a koala and kangaroo exhibit. Destany especially enjoyed watching the koalas nap while lazily chewing eucalyptus leaves. Seeing kangaroos hopping about—with a joey peeking its head out of its mother’s pouch—was something we will not soon forget.

The next day, we returned to the airport, where we met Mr. and Mrs. Seremack, the parents of Missionary Kenny Seremack, who also serves in Mt. Hagen. We spoke several times during our wait, and they were a pleasure to get to know.

This is where we truly began to “expect the unexpected.” Theresa, Destany, and I joined the long line of travelers checking in for our Air Niugini flight to Port Moresby. Each of us carried two overflowing carry-ons, along with six large totes weighing 66 pounds apiece. These totes held everything we would need—and some things we only thought we would need—for the next two years. We were prepared to pay nearly $2,000 in excess baggage fees.

Surprisingly, because of the amount of luggage we had, it was cheaper to upgrade our tickets to business class for a small fee. Doing so significantly reduced the luggage charges, so we upgraded. At the counter, the agent smiled and said, “Okay, you’re good to go.” Theresa asked if we owed anything. He replied, “Nope, you’re good to go.”

Completely perplexed, we moved through security and toward our gate, wondering how such a cost could simply disappear. Sometimes the unexpected turns out to be a pleasant surprise.

Our flight was delayed six hours, but once we boarded the plane from Brisbane to Port Moresby, I found myself seated in the very front middle seat of business class. Theresa was slightly behind me to the left, with Destany beside her. Behind us sat a full plane of people heading to Papua New Guinea. In that moment, the Lord impressed something deeply upon my heart. It wasn’t about enjoying the “finer things” in life—we were heading to a third-world country. Instead, He reminded me of why we were going: to serve the people of Papua New Guinea, to lead many to Christ for salvation and discipleship—not lording over God’s people, but walking with them as one body in Christ, where there is neither Jew nor Greek, male nor female, but all are one.

The Lord had taught me this same lesson six months earlier while I was in a PNG village distributing John/Romans booklets. I stood head and shoulders above dozens of children and young adults, many of whom had never seen a white man. They followed me through the village, wide-eyed and curious. Many New Guineans hold white Americans in high regard because of perceived education and wealth. Most do not attend school, and those who do often receive the equivalent of a fifth- or sixth-grade education. The average employed New Guinean earns roughly $2,000 to $3,000 a year.

In that village, the Lord spoke clearly to my heart. These people do not need someone to come and lord intellect or possessions over them. They need someone to walk beside them, guide them to Christ, and lead them as a big brother in the faith.

When we arrived in Port Moresby, we missed our connection. Air Niugini arranged a shuttle to a small bed and breakfast in Boroka called Raintree Lodge. The next day, we returned to the airport, only to wait nearly all day due to another delay that ultimately ended in cancellation.

While waiting outside the terminal, my family and I sat on the ground. There, I met a young national named Eugene and spoke with him about the Lord. He said he believed in Jesus but also believed he had to be a good person to get to heaven. In that moment, the Lord worked in his heart, and Eugene trusted Christ as his Saviour. He said he knew he would go to heaven because Jesus paid for all his sins, and he felt great joy in his heart.

Missionary Chad Wells once told me—and it’s a common saying in PNG—that it isn’t what happens to you, but how you respond. I am learning this lesson firsthand. When things don’t go as planned, we must look for what the Lord is doing.

Eventually, the plane to Mt. Hagen arrived—only to be canceled once again after we stood in line, tired, weary, and beginning to smell a bit funny. A crowd rushed customer service, and I quickly learned that structured queues are not a New Guinean custom. As people slipped in from every direction, I was repeatedly pushed to the back.

Finally, a seasoned Air Niugini employee approached Theresa, took our boarding passes, and escorted us out of the crowd and onto a bus headed for the Holiday Inn. Our six heavy totes remained somewhere in baggage claim, but we were assured they would be safe.

On the bus, Destany struck up conversations with several young men, sharing her story—from her adoption to attending Christian school and moving to Mt. Hagen. She connected with a 22-year-old Mormon missionary named Mr. Kuno.

That evening, I invited Mr. Kuno to join us for dinner so I could share the gospel with him. I explained that salvation is the gift of God—by grace through faith, not of works. The Lord clearly worked in his heart, and he expressed trust in the finished work of Christ alone.

The hotel room itself was unpleasant, with the smell of cigarette smoke, stained walls, and puddles on the floor—possibly from buai, a common local drug. Exhausted, we slept and returned to the airport early the next morning.

At last, we boarded our flight and arrived in Mt. Hagen, where we were warmly welcomed by the Wells family. They helped us with our bags, took us to lunch, and brought us to the Mt. Hagen Missionary Home. A handmade sign on the gate read, “Welcome to the Mt. Hagen Missionary Home,” with flowers and petals lining the entrance. It was incredibly touching.

The Wells family stayed for a few nights in the flat across the hall, and it was a great blessing to have that time together. We enjoyed shared dinners, sweet fellowship, and many ministry discussions. During their stay, Trevor Wells trained me in my new role as the manager of the Mt. Hagen Missionary Home. I was quickly introduced to a whole new world of responsibilities I had never encountered before. I received a crash course in important email correspondence, QuickBooks, Excel, employee personnel files, supply checklists—you get the idea.

Connor Wells was also brave enough to give me driving lessons. Now, you might be thinking that driving is no big deal; however, try driving on the left side of the road, in a city with few road signs, heavy foot traffic, and the added reality that striking a pedestrian may—or may not—result in a tribal war. I digress!

After a few days of driving around town to run errands, Connor took me to get my driver’s license. Surprisingly, the process was relatively painless. I simply told them I knew how to drive, presented my Tennessee driver’s license, provided the post office box I will be using, had my picture taken, and just like that—it was official. I now have a Papua New Guinea driver’s license.

Soon after, the Wells family departed for the mission station in Pangia, about three hours away, and we were officially left to “make it happen.”

That evening, we unpacked and dedicated Flat A—our new home—to the Lord and His service. As our first week came to a close, I sat in the mission lobby and asked a receptionist to help me learn Tok Pisin. That simple language lesson turned into another gospel conversation, and once again, the Lord showed Himself faithful.

I asked him why God should let him into heaven. He replied simply, “Jesus died to pay for my sins. That is enough.”