Drawn by the Spirit in Pelican Alaska

Pelican is a fishing community located in a majestically surreal setting in Southeast Alaska.  The Lord had led my family on a journey from the Kenai Penninsula, traveling northward by car the one thousand miles that took us through Canada and back south into U.S. territory in Haines Alaska. From there, we would take a two-day ferry trip through Jueanu and out to Lizianski inlet on the western side of Chichagof Island, to the village of Pelican. Once there we would restart a ministry that had been boarded up for over ten years.

One of the many mighty workings of the Spirit we experienced over the next three plus years in Pelican began on a sunny summer afternoon in our third year on the Island. When we first traveled the Alaska Ferry system into Pelican, we learned we would have to carve out a living space in the attic above the abandoned church/parsonage. During that first week, we tackled numerous projects such as cleaning the trash and debris that filled the sanctuary deep enought that we could not even see the few pews that filled the small chapel. Another project involved creating bedrooms in the attic above the church for the entire family. In order to make enough room for all of us to sleep, I cut out a section of the roof, lifted it up, and closed it in with walls on each side. This would be our master bedroom.  At the end of that bedroom was the small cubicle that at one time had also served as the bell tower. I made this area into my study and over the next three years spent many hours there each day in prayer and in the Word of God. From that study I could look out across the inlet, seeing whales breaching, eagles soaring, and waterfalls cascading down the steep cliffs of the inlet mountains.

On one particular summer day, Betsy and the kids were at the school at the other end of town, leaving me alone at the church.  I was in my bell tower refuge studying when I heard a knock at the front door of the church below. In order for anyone to arrive at that door, they had to travel down the boardwalk that sat on wooden pilings over the inlet waters, and go up the dirt path that ascended the hillside above the harbor. Once up the hill, they would climb a steep two story set of stairs that spanned the rugged hillside up to the church. From there they would enter the vestibule that led to two doors. One door went into the sanctuary, while the other opened into the parsonage. Visitors seldom “wandered” this path without a specific intention.

After hurrying down the stairs to answer the knock that had disturbed my solitude, I found a young Hawaiian man awaiting me.  The primary business in Pelican was called “the Cold Storage”. The Cold Storage processed the fish brought in by local commercial fishing boats. During the summer months, many young people would come to Pelican to work the long hours and good pay that the Cold Storage offered.  This young man now standing at my door was one of those workers. The bunkhouse they lived in was a haven for drugs, alcohol, sex, and a very active Dungeons & Dragons culture. Although we had reached numerous souls in the community with the gospel message, we had experienced very limited success so far reaching the young people that lived in that bunkhouse during the summer months.

Upon opening the door and seeing this young man, I am sure that the look of bewilderment on my face was only surpassed by the look upon his. He just stood there staring at me, apparently unsure of why he had made the trek up the hill. I asked him if there was something I could do for him. His hesitant response to my question was no more revealing than the look on his face.  The situation was so unnatural that it did not take long for me up to realize that I was not dealing with the “natural”.  I soon recognized that the Spirit of God was at work.

I invited the young man, who I discovered was named Anthony, into our living room which doubled as fellowship area for out little church.  As he sat there across from me, still appearing to be in a sort of daze, I began to share Jesus with him.  He readily confessed to believing in Jesus, but knew he was not living a life of faithfulness to what he believed.  He prayed with me that day, rededucating his life, and quickly became not only a faithful member of our church, but we soon discovered his amazing gift of playing the piano and keyboard. It was not long before he was playing in our worship service. 

Anthony’s appearance at the front door of the church that day was just the beginning of the door the Lord opened that summer into the darkness the had prevailed in the bunkhouse. The day after Anthony first wandered up the hill, I answered the door again to see two other young men with the same looks of bewilderment. They too followed me into the parsonage where they too prayed to receive Christ.  In the next few weeks, our services would grow in numbers, passion, miracles, and in occurrences. Over fifteen young people from the Cold Storage became regulars in our service, often marching up the hill to the church after 11 pm. They would come up whenever their shift at the Cold Storage ended and we would rush downstairs to have church with these eager souls.  Our services remained vibrant with new believers most every week until the end of the summer when their work in the Cold Storage was done.

Jesus said “no man comes to Me unless the Father draws them”.  We had sown the seeds in prayer over the preceding years for the souls in Pelican and those in the bunkhouse. It took the work of the Holy Spirit drawing them in for us to see the fruit of those prayers.   What we experienced with Anthony on that summer afternoon in reality began when the Lord compelled us (and others) to pray for those souls.  By that same compelling power, He reached into the hearts of these young people, even when they did not quite know why they were "wandering" up that hill. This was the work of the Spirit of God. “Except the Lord build the house, they that labor labor in vain”.