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The Ultimate Matchmaker
After the Americans withdrew from the Vietnam War, their Indochinese allies faced imprisonment, torture, and death under communist regimes. After the fall of Saigon in 1975, 1,228 Tai Dam, an ethnic group from northern Vietnam, crossed from Laos into Thailand seeking asylum. A request for asylum for the entire group was sent to Canada, France, and the United States. Arthur Crisfield, a former U.S. government employee in Laos who had worked with the Tai Dam, wrote letters to 30 U.S. governors. Only Robert D. Ray of Iowa agreed to help.
Ray created his own agency to relocate the Tai Dam, advocated for the greater admission of “boat people” fleeing Vietnam, launched a Cambodian relief program, and lobbied for the Refugee Act of 1980.1 A few families from First Church of the Open Bible in Des Moines sponsored some of these refugees, eventually leading to the formation of Lifesong Church of the Open Bible. No one could have predicted how Ray’s action would impact the life of his own family. No one could have predicted that Robert Ray’s own grandson and the daughter of one of those Tai Dam refugees would fall in love, but that’s just what happened! This is their story.
By Jasmine Vong
I took my parents’ history for granted, especially when I was younger. I heard incredible stories about their living in a refugee camp and their eventual escape, but the extent of the trials they endured never really sunk in.
While growing up I was frequently asked, “Where are you from?” or “Where are your parents from?” I distinctly remember having to think about it every time as if I really did not know. My answer was always “I’m Tai Dam, but I was born in the United States. My parents are from Laos.” But as I got older, I grew more curious. Where did my parents come from and how did they get here?
Former Iowa Governor Robert D. Ray had a huge impact on the Tai Dam community. His passion for wanting to bring refugees into the state of Iowa is truly inspiring. He believed in the potential value these immigrants could bring to the state and fought for them until he made it happen. Because of him, many Tai Dam families like mine were given the chance to resettle in Iowa, where they worked hard to create a new life for their families.
One of Governor Ray’s grandsons, Jeffrey Newland, and I both attended Roosevelt High School in Des Moines, Iowa, where we were part of a mutual friend group. Some of our group went on to attend college at the University of Iowa in Iowa City, where Jeff and I became better friends. During our sophomore year of college some friends encouraged us to go on a date. That day we began to form a connection that could not be broken.
Neither of us wanted to be in a serious relationship in college, so we remained friends. Our friendship grew beyond our college years into Jeff’s graduate school years when he attended Nova Southeastern University College of Optometry in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. We decided to take a leap of faith and commit to each other in a long-distance relationship. With that came many challenges. We spent many months apart, which is never easy for a couple, especially during a pandemic. Our relationship became stronger after Jeff returned to Iowa to work as an optometrist at a local hospital. We were finally living in the same state again for good – back where we grew up, where our parents grew up, and where Governor Ray’s decision had allowed for our relationship to even be made possible.
Honoring the Past
My parents had always been familiar with my friends since I would talk about them a lot. Ever since I was in elementary school, they knew who my group of friends were. So, during my years in high school and the beginning of college Jeff was in the mix of names of friends I would tell my parents I was hanging out with. One weekend when I was home from college, I was sitting in the car with my mom, Somkong Vong, and she was asking me about school, my friends, and if I was seeing anyone. It was just a typical “catching up” conversation between mom and daughter. (My mom, who has since passed away, was the pastor of Lifesong Church of the Open Bible in Des Moines.) I was very reserved and didn’t like to talk about my romantic life with anyone. But I shyly shared with her that Jeff and I had been hanging out more and getting to know each other. We chatted a bit more, and then she asked me if I knew who Jeff’s grandpa was.
Robert D. Ray
Confused at the question, I looked at her and said, “No. Should I?”
She started telling me the history of how she came to the United States and how Governor Ray was so instrumental in bringing the Tai Dam people to Iowa. Looking back at it, I feel like I took the information with a grain of salt. It was cool in the moment, but my teenage self was just worried about whether Jeff liked me or not! My parent’s history and how it was linked to Jeff’s grandpa wasn’t something that I thought about often. I wanted to get to know Jeff myself on my own terms rather than knowing him for being the grandson of a former governor of Iowa. And that I did.
I feel like I didn’t have a true appreciation for what Governor Ray did until I attended his funeral with Jeff in 2018. After hearing all the memories people had of the governor and his humanitarian ways, it started to dawn on me how special he was. The evening after the funeral service we were sitting around with Jeff’s family and family friends listening to stories about Governor Ray when someone said, “Let’s talk about the elephant in the room,” and stared me straight in the eyes.
He brought up the history of Governor Ray and the Tai Dam community and asked me about how I felt being intertwined with the family who essentially brought my family to Iowa. He had worked with Governor Ray for many years, so he was just curious and very interested, as many people are, about how Jeff and I got to know each other. There was no rude intention, but I was caught off guard.
I broke down crying and said, “I am so blessed that Governor Ray gave my parents an opportunity to start a life in Iowa, because if they didn’t, I would not be here right now. The fact that I am able to know John and Jeff is like life coming full circle.” (John is Jeff’s cousin and one of my best friends. I knew him before I knew Jeff.)
Looking Forward to the Next Chapter
One weekend this past winter, Jeff and I traveled from Des Moines to Iowa City for what I thought was a weekend away to attend a basketball game. Little did I know, Jeff had something else planned. We had dinner reservations scheduled for 6:30, but before we planned to leave for the restaurant Jeff “happened” to ask me if I remembered what the name of a building in the Pentacrest was. (The Pentacrest is an area on the University of Iowa campus that houses Iowa’s Old Capitol.) I told him the name, but he said he did not believe me, that he had to “go find out.” Even though it was still well before our dinner reservation, I rushed to get ready so I could go find this building for Jeff to prove to him that I was right!
We walked downtown and as we approached the Pentacrest, Jeff started slowing down. It was very windy, so I said, “What are you doing? I’m freezing. Let’s go!”
He stopped in the middle of the Pentacrest and said he had a question for me. I was so confused at this point, and then he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him.
I was in complete shock and said, “Yes times 100!”
Afterwards Jeff told me that my family and his family had come over to help us celebrate, and everyone came out of their hiding places. My heart was the fullest it’s ever been. It was the most perfect night to celebrate the next chapter of our lives!
Jeff also respects his grandfather highly. He said,
My grandfather, Robert D. Ray, has had an impact on my life from the day I was born. His values were instilled in me at a young age; they molded me into the person I am today. Whether I was participating in youth sports, family gatherings, birthday parties, or ice cream trips, he taught me the value of respect, trustworthiness, responsibility, fairness, perseverance, wisdom, citizenship, and a caring attitude. When I was young, I couldn’t comprehend the magnitude of my grandfather’s efforts or actions, but I could understand how people behaved around him. He had a calm demeanor; he was never the loudest person in the room. Yet people listened when he spoke and had trust in him. Although he has left an impact on many lives, he was always just Grandpa to me. He stayed in the moment, was extremely humble, and always made time no matter how busy he was.
When people ask how Jasmine and I met, I proudly tell them that my grandfather was the matchmaker in forming our relationship. It is amazing how two families with completely different backgrounds found peace in Iowa.
Being the only governor in the United States to accept the Tai Dam people in 1975, my grandpa’s humanitarian efforts changed the lives of so many and provided a resettlement opportunity for them rather than their having to endure the grim conflict in their homeland. He used to say, “The happiest people I know are people who are doing nice things for other people.”
God works in amazing ways, and this is just one example. Only He can bring two people with completely different lives and backgrounds together in the most unique way possible. If Governor Ray didn’t have the passion and the faith in the Tai Dam people, my family would not have gotten the chance to make a better life for themselves in Iowa. I would not be here if it weren’t for him, and I would not have the opportunity to cross paths with Jeff. It was never certain that Jeff and I would end up together, but even after many years of friendship and opportunities to be with other people, we always found our way back to one another. Out of all the families that could be brought together, God managed to bring ours. What a blessing it is.
“You can make many plans, but the Lord’s purpose will prevail” (Proverbs 19:21, NLT).
(Photo by alexakarenphotography)
Chris Cavan, pastor of Lifesong Church of the Open Bible said, “Jeff and Jasmine have been faithful members at Lifesong for many years. I’ve watched Jasmine grow up in the church and develop as a key individual on our creative team. I look forward and am honored to officiate their wedding next August.”
About the Author
Jasmine Vong is a Des Moines native. She attended the University of Iowa where she got her bachelor’s degree in health and human physiology. She is a microbiologist at a probiotic company in Urbandale, Iowa. In her free time, she enjoys spending time with family and friends, finding new recipes to cook with her fiancé, and spoiling her nephew. She is a member of Lifesong Church of the Open Bible in Des Moines, Iowa. Jasmine and Jeff will be married in August 2023.
If you would like to watch a video about the story of the immigration of the Tai Dam people into Iowa produced by MyKayla Zylstra and Emily Eppinga, please click HERE
Jeffrey Newland and Jasmine Vong
(Photo by alexakarenphotography)
Isaac dug out again the wells that were dug during the lifetime of his father Abraham. The Philistines had closed them up after Abraham’s death. Isaac gave them the same names his father had given them. Isaac’s servants dug wells in the valley and found a well there with fresh water. (Genesis 26:18-19 CEB).
I came to faith as a teenager and had very few church experiences up to that point. My earliest formation as a Christ follower took place within Open Bible church settings, where I found deep community and meaningful spiritual experiences that I continue to value. At the same time, as in many modern evangelical churches, there was limited exposure to the ancient liturgies and historic practices of the wider Church.
These traditional cornerstones that were foundational to ecclesial life for millennia had been almost eliminated in the churches I attended. It seemed to me that these practices were at best met with ignorance and at worst with grave suspicion. The predictable result was that any real understanding and appreciation for ancient liturgical practices was absent from the first two decades of my church life. I rarely thought about things like Ash Wednesday services, the Book of Common Prayer, and Advent, and if I did, it was with a healthy side dish of uninformed judgment. I viewed Lent the same way I viewed lentils: it was a cold and exotic experience that was both frightening to prepare and painful to consume.
I viewed Lent the same way I viewed lentils: it was a cold and exotic experience that was both frightening to prepare and painful to consume.
This was my context as a few of our church staff began asking whether we could introduce some of these ancient practices into our church worship experience. As you might imagine given my church background, it took me a while to warm up to the idea. I began a process of asking questions, listening, and learning, even reaching out to an Anglican priest friend to hear his take on the value of these long-held traditions. Through all this, Christ in His goodness and patience has allowed us now to incorporate many of these practices into our regular church experience. As a result, I am happy to report that we are experiencing wonderful depth and meaning in our gatherings as we’ve adopted and applied some of these long-proven elements of discipleship.
Our time of worship now always includes the public reading of a Psalm (a practice we have adopted from the Book of Common Prayer) to bring us back to the ancient hymn book of Israel. We have a fresh understanding of what it is to give up something physical in order to gain something spiritual as we fast in the forty days of Lent. Christmas time and the lighting of Advent candles help us celebrate Christ’s first arrival while reminding us to await His second arrival. And Ash Wednesday, with its outward sign of repentance and mortality, leads us to humble ourselves before God, understanding how desperately we need His saving grace. Finally, the celebration of life on Easter Sunday has far greater meaning now because it is preceded by the sobriety of the death we remember on Good Friday.
This is not to say that incorporating these elements has always been smooth. We’ve learned to introduce them slowly and with great attention to the “why” behind the “what.” Along the way, we’ve had our share of growth opportunities and mishaps. One example happened early on in our journey, when we tried to introduce some ancient call and response types of prayers. The practice led several people to worry that we had become a completely different kind of church. We haven’t yet reintroduced those prayers in our services.
We have found that moving slowly and consistently, explaining the meaning of the practices, and laughing at ourselves through our failed attempts have been the key ingredients to discovering the power of these ancient gifts.
Another example took place during last year’s Ash Wednesday service. During this type of service, ash is used to mark the sign of a cross on each believer’s forehead. This marking symbolizes our own mortality and repentance, as we take up our cross and turn from our sins. Well, our beloved worship leader wanted to add scent to the ashes to create a fuller sensory experience. To do so, he incorporated essential oils, including cinnamon, into the ashes. Little did any of us know that undiluted cinnamon oil burns on the skin. Talk about your full sensory experience. All of us in the service sat wondering what it reveals about our spiritual condition if the ash cross on our forehead feels like it’s on fire. There was a great sigh of relief when our executive pastor let people know what had happened, and a mad dash to the bathrooms ensued as people quickly washed away the painful marker. The next Sunday I formally apologized for turning their Ash Wednesday into a Rash Wednesday.
In these moments and more, we have found that moving slowly and consistently, explaining the meaning of the practices, and laughing at ourselves through our failed attempts have been the key ingredients to discovering the power of these ancient gifts. Just as Isaac reopened the ancient wells of his father to discover pure water, we too can rediscover the meaning of these ancient practices in our churches and experience their fresh water again.
About the Author
Aaron Sutherland is the founding pastor of Cove Church in Eugene, Oregon, and the Director of Multiplication for Pacific Region Open Bible. Along with his wife, Paula, he finds great joy in watching God reveal the new stories being written into the lives of people from every corner of the world.
Y volvió a abrir Isaac los pozos de agua que habían abierto en los días de Abraham su padre, y que los filisteos habían cegado después de la muerte de Abraham; y los llamó por los nombres que su padre los había llamado. Pero cuando los siervos de Isaac cavaron en el valle, y hallaron allí un pozo de aguas vivas. (Génesis 26:18-19, RVR-1960).
Me convertí al cristianismo en la adolescencia y, hasta ese momento, había tenido muy pocas experiencias en la iglesia. Mi formación inicial como seguidor de Cristo tuvo lugar en la iglesia de la Biblia Abierta, donde encontré una comunidad profunda y experiencias espirituales significativas que sigo valorando. Al mismo tiempo, como en muchas iglesias evangélicas modernas, el contacto con las antiguas liturgias y prácticas de la Iglesia en general era limitado.
Estos pilares tradicionales, que durante milenios habían sido fundamentales para la vida de la Iglesia, habían sido prácticamente eliminados de las iglesias a las que asistía. Me parecía que, en el mejor de los casos, estas prácticas se ignoraban y, en el peor, se miraban con gran recelo. El resultado previsible fue que, durante las dos primeras décadas de mi vida eclesiástica, no llegué a conocer ni a apreciar realmente estas antiguas prácticas litúrgicas. Rara vez pensaba en cosas como los servicios del Miércoles de Ceniza, el Libro de Oración Común y el Adviento, y, si lo hacía, era con una buena dosis de prejuicios. Veía la Cuaresma de la misma manera que veía las lentejas: una experiencia fría y exótica que daba miedo preparar y era dolorosa de consumir.
Veía la Cuaresma de la misma manera que veía las lentejas: una experiencia fría y exótica que daba miedo preparar y era dolorosa de consumir.
Este era mi contexto cuando algunos miembros del personal de nuestra iglesia comenzaron a preguntar si podríamos incorporar algunas de estas prácticas antiguas en nuestra experiencia de adoración en la iglesia. Como se pueden imaginar, dada mi formación eclesiástica, me llevó un tiempo aceptar la idea. Empecé a hacer preguntas, a escuchar y a aprender. Incluso me puse en contacto con un amigo sacerdote anglicano para conocer su opinión sobre el valor de estas tradiciones tan arraigadas. A través de todo esto, Cristo, en su bondad y paciencia, nos ha permitido ahora incorporar muchas de estas prácticas en nuestra experiencia eclesiástica habitual. Me complace informar de que nuestras reuniones tienen ahora una profundidad y un significado maravillosos en nuestras reuniones, ya que hemos adoptado y aplicado algunos de estos elementos del discipulado que han demostrado su eficacia con el paso del tiempo.
Ahora, nuestro tiempo de adoración siempre incluye la lectura pública de un salmo (una práctica que hemos adoptado del Libro de Oración Común) que nos transporta al antiguo himnario de Israel. Tenemos una nueva comprensión de lo que significa renunciar a algo material o para ganar algo espiritual mientras ayunamos durante los cuarenta días de Cuaresma. La época navideña y la ceremonia de encender las velas de Adviento nos ayudan a celebrar la primera Venida de Cristo, y a recordar que debemos esperar su segunda venida. Y el Miércoles de Ceniza, con su signo externo de arrepentimiento y mortalidad, nos invita a humillarnos ante Dios, y a reconocer cuán desesperadamente necesitamos su gracia salvadora. Por último, la celebración de la vida el Domingo de Pascua tiene ahora un significado mucho mayor, ya que va precedida de la sobriedad de la muerte que recordamos el Viernes Santo.
Esto no quiere decir que la incorporación de estos elementos siempre haya sido fácil. Hemos aprendido a introducirlos poco a poco, prestando mucha atención al «porqué» detrás del «qué». A lo largo del camino, hemos tenido nuestras oportunidades de crecimiento y nuestros contratiempos. Un ejemplo ocurrió al principio de nuestro camino, cuando intentamos introducir algunas oraciones antiguas de llamada y respuesta. La práctica llevó a varias personas a preocuparse de que nos hubiéramos convertido en un tipo de iglesia completamente diferente. Todavía no hemos reintroducido esas oraciones en nuestros servicios.
Hemos descubierto que movernos lenta y consistentemente, explicar el significado de las prácticas y reírnos de nosotros mismos a través de nuestros intentos fallidos han sido los ingredientes clave para descubrir el poder de estos antiguos dones.
Otro ejemplo ocurrió durante el servicio del Miércoles de Ceniza del año pasado. En este tipo de servicio, se utiliza ceniza para trazar una cruz en la frente de cada creyente. Esta marca simboliza nuestra propia mortalidad y arrepentimiento, y representa el momento en que tomamos nuestra cruz y nos apartamos de nuestros pecados. Bueno, nuestro querido líder de adoración quiso añadir aroma a las cenizas para crear una experiencia sensorial más completa. Para ello, añadió aceites esenciales, entre ellos canela, a las cenizas. Ninguno de nosotros sabía que el aceite de canela sin diluir quema la piel. Hablando de una experiencia sensorial completa… Todos los que estábamos en el servicio nos sentamos preguntándonos qué revelaba acerca de nuestra condición espiritual el hecho de que la cruz de ceniza de nuestra frente pareciera estar ardiendo. Hubo un gran suspiro de alivio cuando nuestro pastor ejecutivo informó a la gente de lo que había sucedido, y se produjo una carrera loca hacia los baños para lavarse rápidamente la dolorosa marca. Al domingo siguiente me disculpé formalmente por haber convertido su Miércoles de Ceniza en un Miércoles de Erupción.
En este y en otros momentos, hemos descubierto que avanzar lentamente y con constancia, explicar el significado de las prácticas y reírnos de nosotros mismos ante nuestros intentos fallidos han sido los ingredientes clave para descubrir el poder de estos antiguos legados. Al igual que Isaac reabrió los antiguos pozos de su padre para encontrar agua pura, nosotros también podemos redescubrir el significado de estas antiguas prácticas en nuestras iglesias y volver a experimentar su agua fresca
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Sobre el autor
Aaron Sutherland es el pastor fundador de la iglesia Cove Church en Eugene, Oregón, y director de Multiplicación de la región del Pacífico de la Biblia Abierta. Junto con su esposa, Paula, disfruta ver cómo Dios escribe nuevas historias en la vida de personas de todo el mundo.
I wonder what happened on all the August 5ths throughout my life. I experienced forty-seven of them as an innocuous number on the calendars of my life: unremarkable, ordinary, plain. I breezed past them without a thought and left them behind without a thought, too.
I will never forget my forty-eighth August 5th. For the rest of my (hopefully) long life, every 5th day of August will be marked in red and circled with a thick highlighter of remembrance. That is the date my husband Josh and I received the phone call that every parent dreads – the kind you read about in someone else’s story and pray never crosses into your own.
But on August 5, 2025, it did.
Fear is many things at once: a glacial wash that starts on your head and drains to your immobilized feet, a taste in your mouth and a sound in your ears, and a fist that strangles your throat.
We were on top of a mountain in Idaho during a church staff retreat when the Life360 app on my phone — an app our family uses to share locations and receive crash or emergency notifications — suddenly and jarringly blared a warning, alerting me that our middle daughter, Adelaide, was involved in a critical incident.
I cannot explain the cold fear that washed over me in that moment. That kind of fear is many things at once: a glacial wash that starts on your head and drains to your immobilized feet, a taste in your mouth and a sound in your ears, and a fist that strangles your throat.
Many frantic minutes later, a deputy called us to let us know that our daughter was involved in a serious car accident and was not doing well. We continued to learn, as we scrambled off the mountain, that she was being life-flighted to the hospital…and that was all we knew.
For nearly two hours.
Fear does another thing: it slows time down to a minuscule crawl that leaves you weeping, screaming, and shaking your fist at the world as you drive at “safe” speeds to where your daughter lies in an unknown state without you.
I will spare the reader from those moments of agony: the prayers that dripped onto my lap, the pleading and begging, brokenness too intimate for anyone but my Father to understand.
I put on the full armor of God in a way I never understood before and will never misunderstand again.
One of the sweetest moments of my existence is the moment I first saw my daughter’s beautiful face as she lay on the emergency room’s gurney, smeared in blood but oh-so alive. Her voice asking if anyone else was hurt, her precious feet sticking out from the blanket, and her fingers curled in mine. The fifth of August will always hold that breathtaking image in my heart.
Adelaide sustained many traumatic injuries from her accident. For that entire first night in the ICU, I was bent over her in prayer, overwhelmed with both terror and joy, each one warring against the other and trying to take control. I battled in prayer for my girl that night, refusing to back down and contending with ferocity. I put on the full armor of God in a way I never understood before and will never misunderstand again.
I kept repeating the 8th and 9th verses of Isaiah 58, sometimes whispering them, sometimes sobbing them, but always experiencing them. There are promises in the Word that you no longer just read but experience; there is a knowing that changes your entire world.
Then your light will break forth like the dawn,
and your healing will quickly appear;
then your righteousness will go before you,
and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard.
Then you will call, and the Lord will answer;
you will cry for help, and he will say: ‘Here am I’ (NIV).
I called out to Jesus, and He didn’t have to run to answer because He was already there, holding not just me in His arms, but Addy as well.
As I called out to Him, He kept saying, “Here am I.” He continued repeating those words, never growing weary of saying them to me— it was His liturgy over me.
“Here am I.”
“Here am I.”
“Here am I.”
I could hear His love, see His protection, and feel His Presence.
The healing He provided was as stunning as the first break of dawn, filling my feeble world with light. Adelaide’s lacerated lungs were miraculously sealed the next morning. Doctors came into her ICU room and were stunned to see my sweet girl smiling back at them, her healing defying the accident she endured. Today, she wears her testimony on her leg in the form of a gnarly scar, and it is proof of the Lord’s providence and healing that she loves to share with others. He guarded Adelaide on every side, and His purpose went before her. The glory of the Lord was her rearguard, and for that, this momma will never stop praising Him.
Every August 5th and each day that He gives.
*To read more from Melissa and what God has taught her through this event, read her related article: Five Things I Didn’t Know I Needed to Learn About Prayer.
About the Author
Melissa Stelly serves as the executive pastor at Turning Point Church in Spokane, Washington, alongside her husband, Josh Stelly. She has attended Turning Point for thirty-four years. She is the mother of three daughters, adores camping, hiking, and adventuring, is a voracious reader, and considers Mt. Rainier one of the greatest accomplishments the Lord created. Most days in her free time you will find her curled up with a good book or taking a long walk.
