The Rev. Tom Claus

Lord, help us make it, Stanley Smith thought as he and his wife slogged through Big Cypress Swamp. We can't do this without Your help.

Every step through the Florida Everglades was a hardship. Tall, sharp-edged saw grass ripped at Stanley's clothes. Mosquitoes buzzed his face, looking for bare skin on which to feast. Hot, thick air made breathing difficult.

Slap!

“Got another one,” he said, killing a mosquito.

At least he could see the mosquitoes. They really didn't worry him. The unseen dangers were much more deadly. Stanley knew alligators and poisonous snakes could be hiding just under the water's surface. Panthers, bears or wild boar might lurk behind the giant ferns and cypress trees that grew up around him.

“How are you doing, Honey?” Stanley called to his wife. Nancy stuck close behind her husband.

“OK, I guess,” she answered. “I just wish we would've gotten more sleep last night.”

“Me, too,” Stanley sighed.

Voice in the Night

Thoughts of the previous night's events still swam in Stanley's head. He had just fallen asleep when he heard a man calling his name from outside the chickee (cha-KEY) - a small hut with a thatch roof and no walls.

“Who's there?” Stanley said as he lifted the mosquito netting. He could barely see a young Seminole man. The man was trying to catch his breath, and Stanley could tell he'd been running. “What can I do for you?”

“I'm from the Big Cypress Reservation,” the young man said between breaths. “The chief's son is dying. The medicine man has done all he can, but the chief's son is getting worse every day. The chief has heard about you, and he's heard you know how to talk to the Creator God. He wants you to come and pray for his son's healing.”

Even though the village was more than 100 miles away, Stanley didn't hesitate.

“I'll come,” he said.

Stanley and Nancy were Creek Seminoles who had been sent as missionaries from their church in Oklahoma. But the beginnings of their ministry had been difficult. The Florida Seminoles didn't trust outsiders and were determined not to change.

Even though the Smiths were American Indian themselves, the Seminoles didn't want to listen to the “white man's” religion. Still, Stanley and Nancy had built a small, screened-in chapel at their base in the Dania Reservation, 20 miles north of Miami.

This was the first time any tribe from Big Cypress had shown interest in God, and Stanley wasn't going to miss the opportunity - no matter what the risk.

The Smiths got up and prepared for their trip. At daybreak, they drove a few hours to Clewiston where they had to leave their car and hike the remaining 40 miles through the swamp to get to the village.

Prayer Warrior

The trek through the Everglades took several days. Sheets of rain followed by blazing temperatures and skyrocketing humidity made the minutes feel like an eternity. But the Smiths stayed focused on God's call on their lives.

Stanley thought often and prayed even more about what he'd say to the chief. He knew the Seminoles were a proud people. They were the only tribe never to sign a peace treaty with the United States. The government had spent $40 million and lost more than 1,500 soldiers trying to conquer the Seminoles, but they remained wild and independent.

Stanley prayed that the chief's son would still be alive when he arrived.

“Do you think we'll make it in time?” he asked his wife on their second night under the stars. They had found a nice hammock - not the kind you sleep on, but a dry, wooded island sticking out of the swamp - on which to camp.

“Yes,” Nancy replied. “We must have hope.”

The Smiths arrived at the Big Cypress village the next afternoon. Immediately, the chief ushered Stanley into the chickee where his son lay burning with fever.

“We've done all we can,” the chief said. “I need for you to ask your God to heal him.”

Stanley was left alone with the dying boy. He slowly knelt on the wooden platform. His body ached from the hike, and he could feel heat from the boy's body.

This must be how Elijah and the prophets of old felt, Stanley thought. These people can't read or write. They've never been to school. All they know are their traditions and what the medicine man tells them.

He closed his eyes, took the sick boy's hand and called out to the Lord: “O God, demonstrate Your power to these Seminole Indians. If it be Your will, touch this young man, raise him up, let them see Your power. Speak to them through Your great healing power and let these people know You are God.”

Stanley prayed and prayed. Only a miracle could change the Seminoles' hearts. He stepped outside the chickee and found the chief waiting for him.

“How's my son?” the chief asked.

“We'll have to wait and see,” Stanley said.

And they did wait. For two hours the boy's condition didn't change. Stanley and his wife continued to pray but overheard the Indians' murmurings: “His God can't heal the boy. If our witch doctor couldn't help him, how could that man?”

Suddenly, a shout came from the boy's chickee. Stanley turned and saw the chief running toward him. Tears streaked the chief's face.

“His fever broke!” the chief shouted. “My son says he's hungry and wants something to drink.”

The chief stopped in front of Stanley and hugged him. “I can't believe my son's going to be OK,” the chief said into Stanley's ear. “I want you to stay. I want you to tell us more about your God.”

Surrounded

Stanley and his wife set up camp in the Big Cypress village. They were given a chickee at the edge of camp. The chief's son recovered quickly and was walking around the village in a couple of days.

The tribespeople were amazed at the healing. Every night when the men returned from hunting and the women finished pounding corn into flour, they would gather around the fire to hear Stanley tell stories from the Bible.

Because Seminoles love stories and are great storytellers, they hung on every word from Stanley's lips. He started with Creation, worked his way through the Flood, talked about Moses bringing God's people out of bondage and brought to life other major parts of the Old Testament.

Finally, after several weeks, Stanley came to Jesus' death.

“For God so loved the world,” he quoted from John 3:16, “that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.

“All of us have done bad things,” he continued as he looked at each face around the fire. “The Bible calls this sin and says the penalty of sin is death. But the Bible also says Jesus died for everybody's sins. All you have to do is ask Jesus into your heart. He can give you a new life on earth and everlasting life in heaven.”

The crowd was eerily silent after Stanley's talk. Many got up from the fire and walked quietly to their chickees.

Stanley and Nancy didn't speak as they walked under the full moon to their hut. I hope they understood what I said, Stanley thought.

In the middle of the night, he received his answer.

“Stanley.”

Hearing his name brought Stanley out of his sleep. He rolled over, lifted the mosquito netting and saw many pairs of feet standing around his hut. In the moonlight, he could make out the profile of Josie Billie - the medicine man.

Although small in stature, Josie was famous for his toughness and power. He was well-respected among the Seminoles.

“Josie, why have you come?” Stanley asked, trying to hide his fear. “It's the middle of the night.”

“I want to know,” Josie said, “is everything you told us about Jesus true? You told us God would forgive us no matter what things we've done wrong - He'd forgive us and take away our sins. Is it true?”

“Yes, it's true, Josie,” Stanley said, sitting up. “It's true. God loves you no matter what you've done. Jesus will forgive you and save you if only you open your heart to Him.”

Josie dropped to his knees. He took his fist and started to beat his chest. Tears fell from his eyes. “But you don't understand. I'm a murderer. . . . God forgive me.”

He fell on his face in the dirt and cried. Stanley bent down next to him. He put his arm around Josie and they prayed.

That night Josie Billie and 14 other Seminoles accepted Jesus as their Savior. As Stanley climbed back into his chickee, the sun started to rise and he had just one thought: Thank You for bringing us here, Lord. Your power can do miracles.

Lord of All People

Within two years of this night, almost 300 Seminoles prayed to accept Christ, were baptized and started three churches. Josie Billie became a powerful preacher and led thousands to the Lord. Stanley Smith continued his ministry to the Seminoles. The Rev. Tom Claus, founder of C.H.I.E.F. Ministries in Arizona, knew Stanley personally and preached with him in 1945. Today, many Seminoles on the Big Cypress Reservation know Jesus Christ as their Savior.