Minka Hanskamp

September 27, 2026
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When Obeying God Still Leads to Hardship. Minka Hanskamp spent her life serving people others had rejected, caring for leprosy patients and sharing Christ through extraordinary humility and love. Even after years of trusting God through danger, she faced kidnapping, captivity, and ultimately death—but her faith remained steady. Her story speaks to women who wonder why life can become harder even when they are faithfully following God, reminding us that His presence is not measured by how easy our circumstances become. Listen and reflect on what it means to remain faithful when the outcome is not what you prayed for. “Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation.” (Habakkuk 3:17–18 ESV)

Full Transcript

On December 7, 1941, the world changed for Minka Hanskamp and her family as the Japanese invaded Indonesia. Minka’s father was arrested and taken to an internment camp along with other men holding a Dutch passport. Soon thereafter the rest of the family was put onto a train and taken to a camp that turned out to be the worst one of all. During those four dark years, Minka spent her days and nights nursing the sick at the camp hospital, saving many lives. Sneaking out at night to visit the sick, knowing that if she got caught it would result in a severe beating, she always put herself in God’s hands. “Oh God, send your angels to hide me,” she prayed, and He always did.   

After the war Minka entered training to become a qualified nurse and midwife and four years later she entered overseas missionary service. Her first stop was New Zealand, serving as a loved and respected midwife. And at the age of thirty-four, Minka put herself once again in the hands of the One who said, “I am He that opens, and no man shuts,” and she found the open door in South Thailand with Overseas Missionary Fellowship (OMF). Here, her servant’s heart stood out to all … all except to herself. Her fellow workers joked: “When Minka stands before the Lord and He says to her, ‘Well done good and faithful servant’ she will look over her shoulder to see who He is talking to.”  

Minka became a leprosy nurse, making regular journeys to out-of-the-way villages, wading through streams, cycling along narrow paths, and carrying her bicycle over wooden planks, all in the hot tropical sun to fulfill her commitment to her patients … those whom the world shut out.  

Washing the leper’s feet was part of the job. But their feet were not just dirty; they were covered in dead flesh with ulcers oozing puss and emitting a stench that made you want to turn away. But Minka never turned away.  

It had to be done, but however carefully Minka and her fellow nurse, Margret Morgan, washed those feet it did nothing to arrest the disease. Only drugs could heal. But it was a special ministry that brought comfort and had its reward, as it did with a patient named Uncle Mat. 

Uncle Mat had come to the clinic with no desire at all to hear what Minka had to tell him about her Christ. As a Muslim, he wanted none of that. But if these Christians could do anything to help him, he would listen. So Minka sat down, taking his foot on her lap to treat the ulcers, and something happened to Uncle Mat.  

He had seen the process done many times but, on this occasion, there was a divine quality about it. He was touched as he had never been touched before. “The humility and love she showed overwhelmed me,” he said. “I know now that what I felt was Christ reaching out to me through her. Though I had not understood anything about the gospel,  in that moment my resistance to the Lord crumbled. That is when I started on the path of faith.” 

April 20, 1974, was like any other morning for Minka as she and Margaret were getting things ready at the leprosy clinic. A dark green taxi came to a stop out front and three men got out, pointing a gun at them. “Don’t you move or …” They pushed by the crowd and approached the nurses. “Come along with us. We want you to look after some sick people. Come now and bring your medicines, both of you … come!” It was all over in a minute. They were both pushed down into the taxi, sacks over their heads, and the engine roared as they drove away.  

Ian Murray, the mission director, spoke to the staff. “When the bandits discover they cannot do anything in the way of getting bullets out, since they have not got the right instruments with them, they will let them go. It does not look like the usual sort of kidnapping – there has been no ransom demand.” 

But the dreaded letter came one week later. It included a note from the Minka and Margaret, saying they had been taken by the jungle people and were safe and well. But it also included demands from the bandits for the payment of ten million baht ($200,000 USD in 2022) and the requirement that OMF write an official protest of Israel’s involvement in Palestine.  

Ian’s heart sank. Neither demand could be met. It was OMF policy. There was no question about paying the ransom. To do so would be to put a price on the head of every missionary and their families in the country. But what of Minka and Margaret?  

Months passed. Hours were spent in prayers around the world. Negotiations continued and Minka and Margaret sent periodic letters, but the kidnappers never relented in their demands. Finally, in March 1975, a Malaysian man who belonged to one of the separatist gangs surrendered and confessed that he had shot both missionaries because the chief of the Muslim gang had to maintain the respect of his men in the rebel movement.  

He said that when the nurses were told they were going to die, they were calm, saying only, “All right, will you let us have a little time to read and pray?”  

“They were not afraid,” he said. “They were good – they were good people.” 

In sorting out Minka’s things, Dr. John Toop found a message she had written, a message from God to herself: “O, My child, do not expect the trials to be lighter. The days ahead may well call for greater endurance and more robust faith than you have ever needed before. Welcome this … how precious are the lessons learned …!” Minka had not gone into captivity without the forewarning and encouragement of God.  

Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation (Habakkuk 3:17–18 ESV). 

On December 7, 1941, the world changed for Minka Hanskamp and her family as the Japanese invaded Indonesia. Minka’s father was arrested and taken to an internment camp along with other men holding a Dutch passport. Soon thereafter the rest of the family was put onto a train and taken to a camp that turned out to be the worst one of all. During those four dark years, Minka spent her days and nights nursing the sick at the camp hospital, saving many lives. Sneaking out at night to visit the sick, knowing that if she got caught it would result in a severe beating, she always put herself in God’s hands. “Oh God, send your angels to hide me,” she prayed, and He always did.

After the war Minka entered training to become a qualified nurse and midwife and four years later she entered overseas missionary service. Her first stop was New Zealand, serving as a loved and respected midwife. And at the age of thirty-four, Minka put herself once again in the hands of the One who said, “I am He that opens, and no man shuts,” and she found the open door in South Thailand with Overseas Missionary Fellowship (OMF). Here, her servant’s heart stood out to all … all except to herself. Her fellow workers joked: “When Minka stands before the Lord and He says to her, ‘Well done good and faithful servant’ she will look over her shoulder to see who He is talking to.”

Minka became a leprosy nurse, making regular journeys to out-of-the-way villages, wading through streams, cycling along narrow paths, and carrying her bicycle over wooden planks, all in the hot tropical sun to fulfill her commitment to her patients … those whom the world shut out.

Washing the leper’s feet was part of the job. But their feet were not just dirty; they were covered in dead flesh with ulcers oozing puss and emitting a stench that made you want to turn away. But Minka never turned away.

It had to be done, but however carefully Minka and her fellow nurse, Margret Morgan, washed those feet it did nothing to arrest the disease. Only drugs could heal. But it was a special ministry that brought comfort and had its reward, as it did with a patient named Uncle Mat.

Uncle Mat had come to the clinic with no desire at all to hear what Minka had to tell him about her Christ. As a Muslim, he wanted none of that. But if these Christians could do anything to help him, he would listen. So Minka sat down, taking his foot on her lap to treat the ulcers, and something happened to Uncle Mat.

He had seen the process done many times but, on this occasion, there was a divine quality about it. He was touched as he had never been touched before. “The humility and love she showed overwhelmed me,” he said. “I know now that what I felt was Christ reaching out to me through her. Though I had not understood anything about the gospel, in that moment my resistance to the Lord crumbled. That is when I started on the path of faith.”

April 20, 1974, was like any other morning for Minka as she and Margaret were getting things ready at the leprosy clinic. A dark green taxi came to a stop out front and three men got out, pointing a gun at them. “Don’t you move or …” They pushed by the crowd and approached the nurses. “Come along with us. We want you to look after some sick people. Come now and bring your medicines, both of you … come!” It was all over in a minute. They were both pushed down into the taxi, sacks over their heads, and the engine roared as they drove away.

Ian Murray, the mission director, spoke to the staff. “When the bandits discover they cannot do anything in the way of getting bullets out, since they have not got the right instruments with them, they will let them go. It does not look like the usual sort of kidnapping – there has been no ransom demand.”

But the dreaded letter came one week later. It included a note from the Minka and Margaret, saying they had been taken by the jungle people and were safe and well. But it also included demands from the bandits for the payment of ten million baht ($200,000 USD in 2022) and the requirement that OMF write an official protest of Israel’s involvement in Palestine.

Ian’s heart sank. Neither demand could be met. It was OMF policy. There was no question about paying the ransom. To do so would be to put a price on the head of every missionary and their families in the country. But what of Minka and Margaret?

Months passed. Hours were spent in prayers around the world. Negotiations continued and Minka and Margaret sent periodic letters, but the kidnappers never relented in their demands. Finally, in March 1975, a Malaysian man who belonged to one of the separatist gangs surrendered and confessed that he had shot both missionaries because the chief of the Muslim gang had to maintain the respect of his men in the rebel movement.

He said that when the nurses were told they were going to die, they were calm, saying only, “All right, will you let us have a little time to read and pray?”

“They were not afraid,” he said. “They were good – they were good people.”

In sorting out Minka’s things, Dr. John Toop found a message she had written, a message from God to herself: “O, My child, do not expect the trials to be lighter. The days ahead may well call for greater endurance and more robust faith than you have ever needed before. Welcome this … how precious are the lessons learned …!” Minka had not gone into captivity without the forewarning and encouragement of God.

Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation (Habakkuk 3:17–18 ESV).