Bananas in Prison!

Darlene Diebler Rose was a missionary in Indonesia. She was the first American woman to enter the Baliem Valley of New Guinea, working there with her first husband, Rev. Russell C. Deibler. During World II, she was captured and imprisoned by the Japanese. In her book: “Evidence not Seen” she describes a situation while she was a prisoner that gripped my heart, because of her level of faith and trust in the Lord.

One day from her prison cell that had a window overlooking the courtyard, she saw several women that had been allowed outside to take in some fresh air. 

Here is her own description of that situation: “I was intrigued by the actions of one woman in particular and it fascinated me. Every time the sentry on duty turned his back to her and marched to the other side of the courtyard, she inched over toward a fence covered with Honolulu Creeper. When the guard clicked his heels, turned about, and began to stroll in her direction, she stopped. I was intrigued. I thought this lady is going to make contact with someone who's hidden in those vines. With no books to read, I'll watch the drama taking place here before my very eyes! I empathized with her. I wanted this lady to succeed, and not to be caught. Finally, reaching the vine-covered fence, the woman stood very still. The guard clicked his heels and went off again. At that moment, I saw a hand shoot through the vine. It held a big bunch of bananas. Quickly she grabbed the bananas, slipped them into the folds of her sarong, and strolled nonchalantly back to join the other women. Nobody knew she had those bananas. But I did! I knew she had some bananas! ” said Darlene. 

“I dropped to the floor of my cell. Exhausted from my efforts, I shook all over. Worse still, I began to crave bananas. Everything in me wanted one. I could see them; I could smell them; I could taste them. I got down on my knees and said, "Lord, I'm not asking you for a whole bunch like that woman has. I just want one banana." I looked up and pleaded, "Lord, just one banana.” I bowed my head again and prayed, "Lord, there's no one here who could get a banana to me.  Please don't think I'm not thankful for the rice porridge. It's just that--well, those bananas looked so delicious!" What I needed to do was link my impotence to God's omnipotence, but I couldn't not see how God could get a banana to me through these prison walls.

One day the door of my cell opened, and I looked into the smiling face of Mr. Yamaji, the Kampili camp commander. This was early July, and it had been so long since I had seen a smiling or a familiar face. I clapped my hands and exclaimed, Tuan Yamaji, seperti lihat sobat jan lama, "Mr. Yamaji, it's just like seeing an old friend!" "You're very ill, aren't you?" Yes, sir, I am." Mr. Yamaji said: "I'm going back to the camp now. Have you any word for the women?" The Lord gave me confidence to answer, "Yes, sir, when you go back, please tell them for me that I'm all right. I'm still trusting the Lord. They'll understand what I mean.” "All right," he replied; then, turning on his heels, he left.

I heard the guard coming back and knew he was coming for me. Struggling to my feet, I stood ready to go. He opened the door, walked in, and with a sweeping gesture laid at my feet--bananas! "They're yours," he said, "and they're all from Mr. Yamaji." I sat down in stunned silence and counted them. There were ninety-two bananas! In all my spiritual experience, I've never known such shame before my Lord. I pushed the bananas into a corner and wept before Him. "Lord, forgive me; I'm so ashamed. I couldn't trust You enough to get even one banana for me.” In the quiet of the shadowed cell, He answered back within my heart: "That's what I delight to do, the exceeding abundant above anything you ask or think." I knew in those moments that nothing is impossible to my God. This was God's provision, and strength began to flow into my body. “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. (Psalm 23:5-NIV). 

Conclusion: This lady is an inspiration to me. Every time I read her testimony I ask the Lord for forgiveness for the times I do not have enough faith for “one banana”. I believe the Lord for the needs of my family at every level. I believe Him also for health, strength and provision for myself and for TLCCM. 

Friends, what are your needs today? I believe that if the Lord brought Darlene Diebler Rose 92 bananas, He can answer your prayers, if we stand believing that He can & will. “Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us” Ephesians 3:20 NIV

If you are reading this article, I want to encourage you to believe God to answer your prayers and give each and everyone of you, your 92 bananas!

Denise

Darlene Diebler Rose died: February 24, 2004 (age 86 years), in Chattanooga, Tennessee, United States. 

A kind gesture makes for good memories

In 1997-1998 we made several trips to the Pai-Pai indigenous reservation in Santa Catarina, a three hours drive from Tijuana. Their Kumeyaay Paipai ancestors have been in this area, including Southern California, for thousands of years. These people live near the mountains and away from almost any other civilization. In 1997, Pastor Joel from the shantytown of Salva Tierra in Tijuana asked us to go and help this forgotten tribe. He came with us and introduced us to Armando the tribe’s chief and his wife Rogelia. They lived in a miserable shack with a dirt floor. The walls were made with old pieces of salvaged wood. They had no telephone line, electricity or running water. Except for a few items of food on the kitchen table we could not see any other food in that shack. They were delighted when I opened a cooler that had a picnic lunch inside. We shared our lunch with the family. Armando sent his son to tell his grandparents to come to their house so they could also eat. We also had cookies and that quickly won us the hearts of the chief’s children. Obviously, we returned home with an empty cooler! Since we had supplies for the other families on the reservation, Roger went with the chief to notify the people to come to the church. People soon gathered and we had an impromptu service. Pastor Joel introduced us and then he preached a short sermon. Afterwards we lined up the families and gave out everything we had in the van. We loved the people and for two years we went back to help them with food, supplies and clothing. Roger’s Spanish was better than mine, so he got to preach a few short messages. I always said a few words and I smiled a lot. In the beginning, we would go directly to the chief’s shack. I always brought lunch. Rogelia had shared with me that she loved turkey. On one of our visits, we brought a turkey dinner. I had never seen people so happy to eat a full course meal. It was very emotional for us because a regular meal was a daily occurrence in our home. After a few months, we decided to feed everyone that came to the church service. Roger had a green camping stove and a folding table. We used the room attached to the church to prepare and serve the food. Hot dogs were always a favorite. As soon as we arrived the chief would unlock the door of the church. Rogelia helped me get everything ready while Armando would go with Roger to invite the people to come. After a while, as soon as the people saw the red van, they would come to the church. Armando and Rogelia had two children. A boy named Gustavo and a girl named Raquel. The little boy was about 10 years old and he loved hanging around Roger. There was not much around their shack except sand and dirt. One day Roger was outside with Gustavo. They were kicking rocks to see who would kick them the farthest. These two became friends and when we would get to the reservation, this little boy would run to the van to give Roger a hug. I do not remember how Roger found out that this kid wanted a bike except one day on the road back home, Roger mentioned that he had to find a bicycle for Gustavo. My memory also fails me, so I cannot recall how he got a bike, I just remember that Roger kept his promise to Gustavo. At our next visit, the bicycle was the first item out of the van. The smile on Gustavo’s face was the only the “payment” Roger needed. He knew he had made a friend for life. I can still remember this little guy riding in circles in front of his shack and Roger standing by the van enjoying seeing the happiness on Gustavo's face. By the end of 1998, because of ministry responsibilities in Tijuana, we no longer had the time to go to Santa Catarina. But, we never forgot the people. In 2018, after 20 years, I had the privilege to go back to the reservation. Many of the older people were still there, but the kids that were there in 1997-1998 have all grown up and moved away, including Gustavo & Rachel. During that trip, as I brought a short teaching to the people, I also promised them that TLCCM would be there every month with the Gospel and supplies. I cannot be there myself, but my leaders Pastors Jorge & Rosa faithfully make the 3.5 hours trip (one way) every month for me. They are TLCCM’s ambassadors to the Pai-Pai indigenous people. Actually, I had completely forgotten about the bicycle story until April 2019. Again, I was visiting the reservation with Pastors Jorge & Rosa. While having lunch with Rogelia and the other people of the tribe, she mentioned the bicycle. She had seen her son the previous weekend and told him I was coming for a visit. He sent me a message through Rogelia. “Mom, tell hermana Denise that I never forgot hermano Roger and I never forgot about the bicycle he brought me.” As I write this, tears are flowing down my face as I remember the kind and precious man that made this little Indigenous boy feel so special. Sometimes an act of random kindness will touch a heart and that act of kindness will stay with a person for a lifetime. It has certainly stayed with Gustavo! “Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.” Matthew 25:40 (NIV)