North Battleford, Saskatchewan, was the center of the new missionaries’ activities. They worked with Pastor Bert Johnson in what had become a familiar task, at least to Bill. Traveling to reserves within a 40-mile radius, he preached in Cree, sharing with the Native population the message of God’s life-changing love and grace. 

        “I am a believer in Jesus Christ. I would like to visit the homes on the reserve and tell people the Gospel story.” Observing courtesy, evangelist Jackson first visited the chief of one reserve to obtain permission. As he spoke, a tribal councilor entered. 

        “I don’t think so,” the councilor interjected. “We have our own religion here. We don’t need another one.” So formal permission was denied. 

        From his own experience on the reserve. Bill knew he could not assume that people heard and obeyed the Gospel just because they were connected with a church. Burdened by the knowledge that many people on the reserves had not believed on Jesus. the young Cree missionary was determined to pres­ent the Gospel. Did not the Bible make it clear that there could be no salvation if the Gospel was not heard and obeyed? He remembered the list of questions in Romans 10: 14,15, and 17: How then shall they call on Him in whom they have not believed? And how shall they believe in Him of whom they have not heard? And how shall they hear without a preacher? And how shall they preach unless they are sent? Bill knew he was sent. He knew God had sent him. He knew, faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God. Whatever the cost, the missionary had to get the Gospel to the people. 

        Bill knew the laws which governed reserves. It was not legal to prevent a person from going to a specific dwelling on the reserve unless the resident of that dwelling objected. “Then we will just visit some friends we have here,” he told the tribal councilor. 

        That settled, Bill and Shirley began their visitation ministry to the reserves surrounding North Battleford. They included Poundmaker, Sweetgrass, Red Pheasant, and others. On some reserves Bill went from house to house introducing himself and witnessing to the saving grace and keeping power of the Lord Jesus Christ. At other places, meetings were held in the home of somebody who requested that they have a meeting at their place. Advertising was done throughout the reserve by word of mouth. 

        In those early days of ministry, if anybody had asked Bill why he couldn’t leave preaching and teaching on the reserves to the churches which were already there, his answer would have been simple. “If people don’t know the way of salvation through Christ, then I should tell them. In my whole time at residential school, I do not remember once that a staff member spoke to me about the Lord Jesus Christ.” Bill shook his head sadly. “I remember being interested when the principal read to us from John chapter three one Sunday morning. I wondered what the new birth was. But, he just kept on reading. He never explained it.” 

        Bill does not say that all of his instructors were unbelievers. He merely points out that none took the opportunity to share the Gospel.

        "Years after I left school, I met Mr. Schula in a church where I was to speak. It became obvious that my former teacher who had loaned me his violin bow was a true believer in Christ. I asked him when he came to know the Lord. He told me he knew the Lord when he was teaching at the school.” 

        So, Bill and Shirley threw themselves into the task of reaching others with the Gospel. Not all the witnessing was done on reserves. In North Battleford, Bill used every means possible to minister to Native people. He made hospital visits where he was often welcomed simply because the patient would otherwise be alone. Every visit was an opportunity for personal evangelism. But each visit also offered something else. Grateful for the expression of care which lay behind the visit, some of those patients would later welcome the Jacksons to their home reserve. 

        It was the same in jails. Bill never ended a jail visit without sharing the Gospel and giving tracts or booklets to those who could be helped by them. He reached out to those people because of their own personal need. 

        The bus depot was yet another place where Bill ministered. Deliberately seeking out Native people there, he started conversations which soon turned to the things of the Lord. Native people often appear shy and restrained. But, when another Native starts a conversation, he or she is usually well received. Because of his own Native identity, Bill had many opportunities to share Christ with travelers at the bus depot. This proved to be yet another center from which, through the bus travelers, the Word of God fanned out to otherwise un-reached areas of the North. 

        For the first year the Jacksons lived in a basement suite owned by Pastor and Mrs. Bert Johnson. Requests for help came from other missionaries and Christian workers who had begun to see the advantage of an indigenous worker speaking to his own people. 

        The Jackson’s work included helping at a Native Bible Camp. In the summer of 1958, Shirley, who was nearing full term in her first pregnancy, drove to camp to see Bill. Feeling well, she decided to stay for the last few days of camp. About midnight on Saturday, however, she told Bill it was time to go to hospital. 

        “We were about twentyfive miles from North Battleford, away out in the country,” Bill recollected. “The roads were terrible because of constant rain.” Making the best time he could, Bill reached the hospital in North Battleford around five o’clock in the morning. Getting his wife settled into her room, he grabbed a quick coffee and headed back to camp. 

        Bill got back Just in time for the Sunday morning worship service, at which he preached. He preached again that afternoon at a baptismal service at the side of the lake on which the camp was located. Then came evening service—with Bill as preacher. Since there was no telephone, he could only wonder what was happening down at the hospital. Until he finally got away from camp at ninethirty that evening, Bill had no way of knowing that Thomas Archie, birth weight seven pounds, had come into the world about four hours earlier.