Native American Mission Work

Pictures of My Favorite Memories

 

With each picture, I saw our lives unfold year after year, season after season; my wedding day, the birth of my children, the kids growing up and their school years, vacations and holidays, my beloved dogs and horses along the way, our grandson's birth, even the appearance of new white hair creeping in each year, and pictures of loved ones now with the Lord. Between guiltless bites of chocolate chip cookies and endless sips of egg nog, we all sat staring at each picture as if we were viewing someone else's life. And we all wondered where the time had gone. 

And then, I saw it. A large box filled with momentos and hundreds of pictures from our early days of doing mission work on the plains reservations. Each picture had it's own story that chronicled the years when our ministry was new, and every day was a giant walk of faith. As I thumbed through the old photos, my son looked at me innocently and asked, "How do you know what years these photos were all taken?" I pondered giving him some deep, spiritual answer, but simply laughed and said, "By the color of my hair, of course, silly!" It was true. Back in those days, my hair color changed from year to year. But the one thing that never changed was my heart. My heart was and will always be with the Native people.

As always, space is limited here, and there's no way to share the many hundreds of photos that chronicled our mission work on the plains. But while I'm waiting to thaw out and get back in the saddle, I thought it might be fun to share with you just a few of my favorite pictures from those early days. For more than 25 years, we traveled each year spending months living amongst the Native people on the great plains of North America, including the Sioux, Navaho, Crow, and Apache. 

The times and seasons are in God's hands, and today, we no longer do long-term mission work. But Kim and Susan Klaudt World Ministries continues to deliver and ship Bibles and blankets throughout the year to the many tribes and Native friends we've made throughout the years. Through relationships that we've made, and networking with various Tribal Councils, our mission work continues. Since we have been busy loading the truck this month with donated Bibles and blankets to take to Qualla Boundary, Cherokee Reservation, my heart is again reminded of the people who have always held my heart. They say a picture is worth a thousand words. In that spirit, I hope you enjoy seeing some of the pictures of when it all began.   

This is a picture of me and my husband, Kim, and an independent truck drive whose over-the-road handle was Black Diamond. We didn't know Black Diamond, but someone had told him about us and the work we were doing with the Native people. One day he called and said "You don't know me and I don't know you, but God has sent me to help you!" That week, he drove from Georgia to the Apache Rez in White River, Arizona to deliver tons of gifts and Bibles we had collected for the Indians. We drove out on our own, and met him there 3 days later.

 

 

Many times people have not only a romanticized view of Native people, but an unrealistic understanding of what it really takes to do mission work. In a nutshell, it is the hardest work you will ever do. You don't just show up on a reservation with a pocket full of dreams. With God's help, you prayerfully consider the vision, then you prepare to walk it out by faith. And you cannot do it alone. It takes many volunteers - people who are as full of faith and commitment as you are to get the job done. This is a picture of a warehouse owned by an Atlanta business man and life-long friend, Bill Jones. He donated this warehouse space to us for many years. It served as a storage facility for the Bibles and humanitarian aid that we collected throughout each year, and drove to the plains reservations. Today, we have a 40 foot storage building on our farm where we store donations of new Bibles and blankets for distribution throughout the year.

  

Here I am with my adopted Lakota Sioux son, Dakota, and some of the Boyd Indian Family children at Ft. Peck Reservation in Poplar, Montana. Throughout the years, the Boyd's were our host family when we visited their reservation. The year this picture was taken, we trucked over 40 tons of clothes, toys, and Bibles to this Rez. * Most Native people, especially the youth, refer to their reservations as the Rez. 

 

This is a pic of me and my husband, Kim, and our adopted Lakota Sioux son, Dakota. We were invited to minister at this little church called the New Life Mission at Wolf Point on the Rez in Montana.

 

There is a miraculous story behind this picture. I met this Indian woman in a Sioux Rez nursing home. I was told that she had not had a visitor in more than a decade, and she was bedridden. She was covered in bed sores, and I was also told that she was deaf, and assumed to be blind since she never opened her eyes. When I first entered the room, I spoke to her but she neither heard me or acknowledged me. I took her hand in mine, and began to pray out loud. When I finished praying, I looked at the woman and saw that her eyes were open and she was staring at me, with a smile on her face. Then she began to speak. In stilted English, the woman said that she had heard everything I prayed, and she had heard it all in her native tongue (Lakota). It was nothing short of a miracle. Not only did everyone think she was deaf, but I didn't know or speak a word of the Lakota language. With the nurses, my husband, and my son, Dakota, witnessing what was taking place, I asked the woman. "And what did you hear when I prayed?" To which she replied, "I heard Jesus tell me He loved me, and wanted to be my Saviour." This precious lady accepted Christ that day. 

 

During our mission work on the plains, we always networked with the Tribal Council of each tribe, respectfully requesting permission to enter their land and minister to their people. Over the years, we were able to win the hearts of the Sioux, Navaho, Crow, and Apache. But the Pueblo were an exception. They were quite stand-offish to what they considered the "white man's religion", and as a consequence, we did not minister on their Rez. 

 

Me with three Navaho girls on top of Navaho Mountain in Utah. We traveled 100 miles straight up the side of a mountain, in the middle of winter and a snowstorm, to reach this secluded sheep-herding tribe. As our Indian guide drove up the steep, twisting dirt road which was covered in ice and snow, I covered my head with a blanket, and prayed like I never prayed before! The Indians had been preparing for our arrival for weeks. When we finally arrived, these three beautiful smiling faces were there to greet me. 

 

People often used to ask me endless questions about why I did mission work with the Native people. Why would I leave the comforts of my home, and take gifts to these people who may or may not want me there? You're looking at four of my best reasons. These little Apache girls living on the Rez at White River, Arizona are all wearing coats that we gave them, and we ministered to their entire family.     

 

A picture of me ministering to the Navaho people. Very few of the Native people on this Rez spoke English. The man on my right is a Navaho Native, and he is interpreting everything I say to his people in their native tongue. You can also see the boxes of gifts we brought to these people. It's worth noting here that "gift giving" is central to Native culture. Giving gifts to one another is a sign of respect. We never entered a reservation without bringing many gifts to the Native people in honor of their tradition. 

 

For more than 25 years, I did mission work amongst the Native people, and was also blessed to live out my dream of riding horses in Wyoming, Montana, the Dakota's, and all across the great plains. In this picture, I decided to hire a guide who took me and my son, Dakota,on the ride of a lifetime across the barren but scenic landscape of the Badlands. 

A picture of me and my son, Dakota, with some of the Native children on top Navaho Mountain in Utah. We brought them all new sweaters and coats in the middle of winter. These beautiful smiles were our reward! 

 

  

Everywhere I went during my mission travels, people gave me gifts. Sometimes it was their favorite toy pony, or the family's handmade dream catcher as seen in this picture. Some of the gifts represented their Native cultural beliefs, and some were even contrary to Christian theology. But I received each gift with deep appreciation, and in the spirit in which it was given. As a result, every single person that ever gave us a gift ended up inviting us into their home, and they allowed us the privilege to share the Gospel with their families. 

 

This is me and Kim with a shy Navaho sheep-herder who lives on Navaho Mountain in Utah. This Rez is 100 miles from the closest store or gas station. These Natives are a very tight-knit society, and very industrious in spite of the cold, mountain-top land they inhabit. The majority of Indians on this Rez raise sheep for food.      

 

This is a picture I took of a hand-painted hide created by a Native Sioux at Ft. Peck. It now hangs in a small museum on the Rez, and depicts the story of Genesis in the Bible. 

 

This is a picture of me and my adopted Indian mother, Dolly Boyd. Whenever we visited Ft. Peck Rez in Montana, we always stayed with the Boyd Indian Family. During one of our trips, Dolly became my adopted mother when she performed a traditional Native ceremony and renamed me with my new Sioux name. Whenever I am on the Rez, or with the Sioux people, I am not known as Susan. I answer only to my Sioux name that my adopted mother gave me. That name is Winyan Waste' which means "good woman".

 

 Most folks only see copies or replicas of Native culture at public pow-wows, demonstrations, or special events. During our mission years, we earned the trust of many Natives, including some that were considered to be Traditionalists. As a result, we often had the privilege of seeing many of the roads less traveled. One day we took a long walk with a Native friend who told us, "I want to show you something special." There, hidden amongst a clump of trees was a real tee-pee. Inside were clay pots, cooking utensils, and blankets. It was clearly lived in, and was someone's modern day home. 

 

These Navaho women cooked Fry Bread and Indian Tacos for us every day while we were on Navaho Mountain. The majority of these tribal people are sheep-herders. Instead of using ground beef for our Indian Tacos, they made them with fresh lamb.   

 

A picture of our sons, Karma (on the right), and our adopted Lakota Sioux son, Dakota (on the left wearing a Coyote headdress and a breast plate made out of deer bone). The boys were quite young in this picture. We adopted Dakota at birth, and he grew up traveling with us full-time in ministry and doing mission work. Our son, Karma, ministered with us during his youth until he started attending college full-time. Today, Karma is a father of his own teenage son, and in his early 40's! He is a gifted and natural born leader, and a top executive in the corporate world. He travels extensively throughout the country teaching and conducting seminars for other up and coming corporate leaders. Our Native son, Dakota, is now nearly 30 years old, and made the choice to move out west when he was only 17 years old. It was a very difficult time for our family, but we had watched him struggle continually throughout his teenage years with his own identity. One day, he told me that he didn't want to live in the "white man's world" anymore. He said that he felt different from everyone else. I knew in my heart that he did. As any mother would, I protested and fought hard against him leaving home, but to no avail. It was time to let him go. Since that day, I have learned to trust God completely with both of my children no matter what they do, or where they go. I know that God is with them. As for my Native son, Dakota, he was born from the womb of a young Indian girl, but he will always be the son born of my heart.    

 

I met this beautiful Native Crow girl at the

Battle Of Little Bighorn 

reenactment at Crow Agency, Montana. She absolutely stole my heart with her smile, and every time I turned around, she was right there following me like my shadow. In this picture, she is proudly wearing a special dress adorned with 

porcupine quill and 

elk teeth.

 

This is a picture of a modern day

sweat lodge 

 

that was still being used by a medicine man on the Sioux Rez at Ft. Peck, Montana during one of our mission trips. Sweat lodges were and still are used by some Indians for many of their Native spiritual practices, one of which is to literally 

"sweat out" 

any impurities and sin within them. Of course, as Christians, we know that it is the blood of Jesus Christ that washes away our sin, and cleanses us from impurity. 

 

 Our son, Dakota (on the right) always saw it as his job to pass out free Bibles that we brought to the Indians. In this picture, he is with a new friend he made after leading him to the Lord. The next thing he did was recruit his new convert to help give out the Bibles!

   

This is a picture of my smiling husband, Kim, and two of the beautiful Boyd children, James and Habbakuk. Kim has a special comraderie with Native people because of his own heritage. Kim's father was Chief Vernon Klaudt, an Arikara and Mandan Indian from Ft. Berthod, North Dakota.

Kim's great-great grandfather was known as Little Soldier who was one of the Arikara 

scouts for Custer during the 

Battle Of The Little Bighorn. A picture of Little Soldier hangs in the museum at Custer's Battlefield, Crow Agency, Montana. 

 

 

This is a picture of a young Sioux mother allowing me to hold her baby who is wrapped up and secure in a cradle board. Because I spent time with her, and came back year after year, she trusted me with her child. 

Kim and I stayed months at a time, and came back year after year to these same reservations. We didn't just show up one day on the Rez hoping to be accepted by the Native people. As a consequence of our long-term commitment, we built respect and trust. We also did things in proper order by networking with Tribal Chiefs and their Council. We never entered a reservation without their knowledge and approval.  

 

 

Me and a new found friend. Thanks to our many contributors, I was able to give this little Sioux boy his first pair of shoes - a brand new pair of Nike's that fit just like they had been hand-picked and custom-made for him. 

  

Kim with a young teenage Sioux Native that we first met during a mission trip to his Rez when he was just a little boy. At that time, he lived with his little brother in the body of an abandoned car. One day he saw me hugging our son, Dakota. He told me that he had never been hugged in all his life, and asked if I would hug him, too. From that day forward, Kim and I gave him great big bear hugs every chance we visited him on the Rez. 

  

 

You know me! If there's a horse around, I'm gonna find him. And that includes the Rez horses! One of the greatest joys of my life has been riding horses with the Indian people on the great plains of North America. 

 

This Sioux child came to our "give-away" at the local community building at Ft. Peck. He spent all day looking for this special gift for his little sister. Native people are some of the most thoughtful and generous people I've ever known, and their children are no different. 

 

 

News quickly travels across the Rez, and each year when we arrived, the people knew we would come bearing gifts. We handed out large Hefty garbage bags and donated grocery bags, and told everyone to fill them with as much as they wanted. Just like the biblical story of the fishes and the loaves, miraculously we never ran out of gifts for the Native people.  

 

This is the sign posted at the outskirts of Ft. Peck Reservation, Poplar, Montana. The Rez land is flat and barren looking. The summers are hot, and the winters are frigid. Ft. Peck Rez is in the northern part of Montana, and only 62 miles from the Canadian border.

   

 

So strong is my love for all Native children, that the Sioux jokingly nicknamed me "white mother of all Indians". It was a nickname I carried proudly. 

  

The Apache at White River, Arizona standing in line to get into the building for our "give-away", and to hear us preach the gospel and do a music concert.  

 

 

More than 4000 people came out to hear us minister the Word when we visited the Apache Rez. Hundreds of them were children. In this picture, you can see the kids rushing the door, wanting to come in before we are ready to begin. Check out their peace signs!  

  

More than 100 Apache volunteers helped us coordinate our largest "give-away" at White River, Arizona. While volunteers handed out clothes and Bibles, Kim and I ministered from a wooden plank platform at the end of the room. We preached and sang for 14 hours straight without a break.

  

 

Everytime we did mission work on a reservation, we attended all their celebrations and festivities, as well. Here I am with a Custer re-enactor at Crow Agency, Montana, during their Battle Of The Little Bighorn celebration that lasted 3 days. During this time, we traveled in our bus to reservations. We were allowed to park it in the middle of the re-eanactor's camp, and every night under the light of the moon, we watched the Crow people paint their ponies, and ride across the plains just like they must have done when Custer made his final stand. 

  

  

From the time I was a little girl, God has always used horses to teach me something, or help direct my path. I've never really understood why, and yet, I've never questioned God's use of horses in my life. On our very first trip out west, I was nervous as we approached reservation land. I was 3000 miles from my home in Tennessee, and I had never done mission work with anybody, let alone Native people. As Kim drove down the two lane road, we were only a mile from our destination. I began to pray and pray, asking God to help me do the right things, say the right things, take away my fear, you name it, I prayed it. Suddenly I opened my eyes, and there on the side of the road stood two beautiful paint horses held in their pasture by one single strand of wire. "Stop - I have to get a picture of those two horses!" I shouted to Kim. Then I got of our vehicle and walked over to the wire, camera in hand, and stroked each horse on it's neck. The beautiful smell of horse flesh filled my nose, and I just looked up to heaven and said, "Thank you, Lord." In my heart, I knew that God had sent me two horses just to welcome me to the Rez, and let me know that I was, indeed, right on time, and right where he had planned for me to be. 

 

 

 

 

   

 

*Susan Klaudt Horse Ministry and Susan Klaudt Natural Horse

Faith-Man-Ship are equine ministry outreaches of Kim and Susan Klaudt World Ministries, Inc., a non-profit ( 501 ) ( C ) ( 3 ) evangelistic ministry for the spread of the gospel. All gifts and contributions to this ministry are tax deductible.