Today, July 1, is Dale Palmer’s birthday. I could not think of a more appropriate time to reprint what I wrote a little over ten years ago after I traveled with Dale and Arvalee to Papua New Guinea. I think you’ll see why if you read on. Thank you for indulging me.
If you want to really get to know what someone is like, travel with them. The only thing that prohibits me from a more revealing exposé about what the Palmers are really like…are the things they can say about me. I guess I wouldn’t be a very good investigative journalist, so how about a hobbyist photgrapher? Here are a few snapshots of The Dale and Arvalee Palmer Story! I saw in our trip to Papua New Guinea.
The first snapshot is that of a preacher who was committed to going to the “reaches beyond,” but couldn’t. As often as possible, missionaries were invited to “his” pulpit to speak about their work. Each time a missionary spoke, this preacher was exposing his congregation to God’s greatness and the necessity to follow the first word of the Great Commission: “Go!” As I understand it, missionaries didn’t mean he wouldn’t preach, the worship service was only lengthened. Of course, this is a picture of Bro. Kermit Byrd, the pastor of Bell Gardens Baptist Church in the 40′s and 50′s.
One day as Dale talked, I wrote. He rattled off a list of names. Some I knew, others I didn’t. Ardon and Pat Fritz, Dub and Evelyn Moore, Forest and Nancy Stine, Mickey and Olivia Brown, Jim and Francis Aldridge, Bill and Joyce Holeman, Floyd and Marie Eaves, Charles and Maxine Congdon, E.B. and Vivian Claud, J.B. and Betty Gibson. I am sure I have misspelled names or have forgotten others. Dale’s point was, each of these were challenged to serve the Lord in some manner, in their youth. Many even began to explore potential places of service during their college days. A few made serving the Lord a lifetime “career,” if I can call it that. Proverbs says, “As iron sharpens iron; so a man sharpens the countenance of his friend.” These couples did just that for the others while they were part of the church, “spurring one another to love and good works.”
The next snapshot is rather dark. Dale was so eager to serve God that he would ask every missionary how he and his wife could be missionaries, too. Often, the reply was “get some training.” Dale knew this would be almost impossible because he never finished high school. Isn’t it just like God to challenge you to do something and then throw a huge obstacle in your way? Maybe the obstacle was there to be a reminder that God’s work is accomplished “not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, says the Lord.” So, without adequate qualifications, authoritative credentials, or substantial encouragement, what did the Palmers do? They followed the Lord’s leading and chose an unstable, unproven, new organization that had no reputation. Well, as a matter of fact, the organization did have a reputation, a bad one. They were considered a “fly by night” ministry. In their brief history they also had a meager track record: five of their first missionaries were murdered! The bright spot on this photo was the determination Dale and Arvalee demonstrated. Maybe that is what faith is. Dale repeated several times, “God “has chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and God has chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty.”
The next snapshot was like riding a roller-coaster of emotions. Dale and Arvalee finished their training at Fout Springs in California (then the place burned down). They left in 1953 on a freighter ship bound for Australia. On the dock stood all the people from the church wishing them a “bon-voyage” on this journey to the other side of the world. Dale and Arvalee waved back, leaving without any financial commitment from their “home” church. How could the church just let them go with no offer of support?
Frankly, I didn’t understand, but this was one of those panoramic shots! Here’s what was on the far side of the photo. While home on missionary furlough from Africa, Dr. Nathan Barlow quietly told the leaders that if the church didn’t have the money to support another missionary, take his support and give it to the Palmers. What a generous act of Biblical love at tremendous personal sacrifice! I don’t know what the church did. Maybe it was Dr. Barlow’s prompting that encouraged the church to begin financially supporting Dale and Arvalee. That must have been a great step of faith, for the church, the Barlows, and the Palmers, I’m sure! Others may better recall the sacrifice it took to be faithful to this commitment.
Put Dale Palmer in New Guinea and all my State-side impressions were null and void. This was a snapshot I was not accustomed to seeing. No puppy dog eyes. No smothered Texas drawl. No trembling of thought. No hunched, motionless stance. I think I know why, too. No suit, no tie! I had never seen Dale in his “element.” When he spoke, it was with authority, the “thus saith the Lord” kind, with inflection and great affection! Maybe I noticed better because I could not understand the Pidgin English he was speaking. When he stood his eyes glistened, his hands gestured, why, he even…moved! Maybe I noticed because all over New Guinea missionaries and nationals reminded Dale of sermons he preached, some as many as 20 years ago. I have trouble remembering what was preached last week. I could tell from this picture how the Refiner’s fire had so clearly and carefully perfected His image—you could clearly see Jesus.
There is one final snapshot. Upon our arrival in each location, we were greeted by missionaries and nationals. The missionaries love Dale and Arvalee. They are like the grandparents of the mission, loved, highly esteemed and regarded like Abraham, because Dale and Arvalee’s great faith as pioneer missionaries in all the regions of Papua New Guinea has inspired so many others. To see the response of so many others to the Palmers was overwhelming.
The nationals added another dimension to this photo. I knew at home, we might give a little arm around the shoulder kind of hug—not too long, not too close. But when the nationals saw Dale and Arvalee, they would cling to them like a child who had been lost and was now found and reunited with his parents. Those were no ordinary embraces. Those were demonstrations of the love the nationals had for the one who introduced them to Jesus Christ as the Savior of the world. Those were tears of affection for the ones who gave their lives for these dear people. Was this but a glimpse of what our reunion in heaven will be like?
I add these snapshots to a photo book from my childhood. As a little boy my parents made heroes of Dale and Arvalee by leading us to pray for the Palmer’s when they were working in the Gimi tribe. The church began a fund-raising campaign to bring the Palmers home for a long overdue furlough by saving dimes in a baby food jar covered with pink construction paper. I am amazed at some of the (very insignificant) details I remember. I don’t remember the immediate result of that campaign. But I have wondered since, how many dimes does it take to bring a family home?
Somewhere along the way, Dale and Arvalee became one of my heroes. Little boys have lots of heroes. They talk about them. They imitate them. They collect memorabilia. They may carry or display a picture. They dream of endless scenarios at their hero’s side. Not every boy has the privilege of venturing with their hero into his realm.
Those are the snapshots, now forever etched in the one place where I can’t lose them, time won’t erode, and thieves can’t steal. I hope you enjoyed looking through this my legendary photo album!
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