
The story of missionary John G. Paton on the island of Tanna in the New Hebrides (now Vanuatu) in the 1860s includes an account that has been told and retold across missionary circles for over a century. Paton and his wife had arrived on Tanna to bring the gospel to a people who had already killed previous missionaries.
Surrounded by Hostility
The local warriors had made their intentions clear. They wanted Paton dead. On multiple nights, groups of armed men crept toward his small dwelling to kill him. Paton knew it. He and his wife would hear the footsteps, the whispered plans, the weapons being readied. They prayed.
One particular night, a large group came with torches to burn the mission house and kill everyone inside. Paton prayed through the night. His wife prayed. They waited for what seemed inevitable.
At dawn, the attackers retreated without touching them.
Why They Turned Back
Months later, after the chief of the village came to faith, Paton asked him directly: "What happened that night? Why didn't your men kill us?"
The chief looked at him, confused. "Who were all those men with you?"
Paton said there was no one -- just him and his wife.
The chief insisted: "We saw hundreds of tall men in shining garments, standing guard around your house. We were afraid and left."
Paton interpreted this as angelic protection, but the broader pattern in his journals shows animals playing a role in multiple incidents -- dogs barking to alert him to approaching attackers, a rooster crowing at an unusual hour that woke him minutes before an ambush, and local livestock behaving strangely when danger was near. The natural world and the supernatural worked together.
What This Means for You
God's protection doesn't always announce itself with trumpets. Sometimes it's a dog that barks at the right moment. A bird that calls before dawn. The created world is not neutral territory -- it responds to its Creator. If you're in a situation where the threat is real, the protection may already be deployed in forms you haven't noticed yet.
