ew family. One day, suddenly,
one of them gets a violently upset stomach. Is it cholera? The nearest
hospital is two days' journey away. You catch your breath, and go
ahead caring for her the best you can with your limited medical
knowledge, a constant cry going up from your heart to the only One who
can help, to Him who is the only all-sufficient One! If you are
fortunate your junior recovers. From that time on, all the fruit that
appears on your table will be thoroughly scalded.

* * * * *

This is not a chapter on missionary health. It does not purpose to
instruct you in the rules of hygiene. Rather it inquires into
attitudes. Is the missionary to be as particular as he can about
everything (fussy, some may call it), or should his faith be great
enough so that he overlooks the rules of the doctors? Or perhaps, are
there times when the one attitude is desirable, and times for the
other?

The Lord of the harvest has sent us forth. A dead laborer, or even a
sick one, is not much use. It is surely our duty to take all sensible
precautions, and whenever possible to use the safeguards to health
with which modern science has provided us. We have no right at all to
disobey the rules of hygiene just because we happen to feel like it.
But on the other hand, when those among whom we are ministering,
people whose training is different from ours, who have no conception
of modern hygiene, out of the love in their hearts provide us with
things to eat and drink, surely then is the time to say with Paul,
"asking no questions for conscience' sake" (I Cor. 10:27). Surely in
cases where adhering strictly to the rules of hygiene would hinder the
fulfilling of our commission, we can trust the One who sent us forth
to look after us.

CHAPTER 4

_The Right to Regulate My Private Affairs As I Wish_

_"Wherefore, if meat causeth my brother to stumble, I will
eat no flesh for evermore, that I cause not my brother to
stumble."_--I Corinthians 8:13

"Please, teacher," said a voice at my elbow, "wouldn't you like to
wash your face?"

We were having a week in the country. For the fifth time that day, our
first full day out, there stood the pastor's wife, holding out to me a
basin of steaming water. She had just the right combination of
humility and pride in her manner. I quickly stifled the desire to say,
"I don't want to wash! What in the world do I want to wash my face
five times