We never quit learning.  Yesterday, my brother Bill told me about going to Mongolia in the seventies.  The country had just declared its independence from Russia and had asked him to come help them set up a program for rural health villages.  He was working with the International Baptist Mission Board, trying to start churches in restricted countries.  Mongolia had never heard of Christ.  There were no Christians there and were open to the message.

Offering free medical services opened the door.

Problem was, there weren't any rural villages.  Mongolia had only five small cities.  Everywhere else was inhabited by nomads living in yurts, moving from place to place with their horses and sheep.  Bill was eventually able to set up medical centers in outer areas, get American doctors to come in to give medical help by taking their vacations in Mongolia instead of lying on the beach soaking up the sun for two weeks.  Actually, there were many who made that choice.

When Bill got off the plane, they threw his suitcase on the tarmac and took off again.  It was February, and the temperature was forty below zero.  He said that if he hadn't had his military issue hood made of Wolverine, he would have frozen his lungs when he took a breath.  He had worn it into the country because he knew it would be bitterly dangerous due to the cold.

Here's the thing I learned.  The military had tested all kinds of fur, and found that Wolverine was the only fur that didn't ice up in sub-zero temperatures when you exhaled.  I can't imagine the sensation of sucking forty below air into my lungs.  My brother was a missionary doctor because he felt that was what God had called him to do.  Nobody would go into Mongolia in February unless they were called by God Himself.  Maybe Wolverines would.