THE EMERGENCY CALL COMES IN, AND WE TAKE OFF

When Amos Collins began his training as a mission pilot, he envisioned flying small single-engine planes over the jungles of Africa or Papua New Guinea. But God had other plans. Today, Collins is the chief pilot for Pacific Mission Aviation (PMA) on Yap, an island in the western Pacific. The Micronesian archipelago, which spans over 1,000 kilometers, includes more than 20 islands and atolls. Instead of landing on bush airstrips, Collins now flies across the Pacific.

“For fifteen years, I flew an old, small mission plane—through thunderstorms, on narrow, rain-soaked grass airstrips, and sometimes I was stranded on remote islands for days until a repair made the flight home possible,” he recounts.

Today, he flies a more powerful turboprop aircraft. “Over the open ocean, with hardly any alternate airports and few navigation aids, every flight is one of the most demanding tasks a pilot can undertake. I’ve already had to shut down an engine twice and rely entirely on my training to land safely.” Today, however, the biggest challenge no longer lies on remote islands but at international hubs like Guam or Manila. “It’s a completely different world from our quiet island operations.”

But what sticks in my memory most are not the most difficult flights, but those missions where every minute counts. Just recently, PMA transported a tourist who had suffered a heart attack from Palau to St. Luke’s Hospital in Manila. During the flight, which lasted several hours, she was accompanied on a stretcher by a doctor. Medical evacuations like this are part of everyday life at PMA. In addition to piloting skills, they require meticulous planning—from entry permits and customs formalities to ensuring an ambulance is on standby at the destination.

Such emergency calls often reach the team in the middle of a tightly scheduled flight operation, when the aircraft are already fully booked. Nevertheless, when human lives are at stake, a rescue flight takes priority.

PMA invests not only in rescue flights but also in the future of the island’s population. After more than 50 years, the organization is permitted to purchase land on Yap for the first time. Plans include a training center with housing for young people from the outlying islands, as well as a short-term Bible school.

The goal is to train local Christians and send them back to their own communities as missionaries—in a culturally sensitive, credible, and sustainable manner.

The extent to which cultural influences shape our lives is evident not only in the air but also in our interactions on the ground. One example of this is the PMA orphanage Bahay Kalinga in the Philippines.

One evening, social services brought an infant there who was only 18 days old. They named him Felix. He was born into the Tadyawan-Mangyan tribe. There, a baby born with the umbilical cord wrapped around its neck is considered a harbinger of misfortune. Out of fear and under pressure from their community, his parents decided to give him up for adoption.

Rejected by his parents, Felix found safety, care, and affection at Bahay Kalinga. Where fear and superstition reign, God creates new perspectives—through people who follow His call. His life echoes Psalm 27:10: “Even if my father and mother forsake me, the Lord will take me in.” His smile when he hears familiar voices and his reaching for his caregiver’s hand quietly speak of hope and restoration.

From challenging flights across the Pacific to caring for abandoned children—the work of the PMA is as diverse as the people it encounters.

“When I see today what our small mission organization is able to accomplish, I’m amazed,” says Amos Collins. “We land on remote airstrips, transport the sick, the healthy, and relief supplies, airdrop supplies to islands without runways, and then fly four hours to a medical emergency.” His horizons have broadened, Collins says. “And with them, our confidence.”