That Night in November

For reasons too complex to go into here, our experiences with co-workers on the mission field between 1976 and 1985 were traumatic. On two occasions, families came specifically to help us in the work, in both cases brethren we had known for years. In both cases (for very diverse reasons) the families abandoned Madeira after spending only one year here. While we harbor no grudges or ill-will towards either family, it would be dishonest to say we were not deeply hurt personally, and that the work was not adversely affected spiritually. There will always be scars, but scars don't hurt.

The point of even mentioning this is that one of the longer lasting consequences was not a continued bitterness towards the persons involved (which God's grace allowed us to overcome in time), but that I stopped asking God to send anyone to work with us. I told the Lord that He could send someone if He wanted, and they didn't even have to work with us, as long as they came with a heart to reach this island. Yes, it was OK for Him to send someone, but I was not going to ask Him.

It was November 2005 at a Wednesday night prayer meeting (or perhaps a special meeting we had after a Sunday night service) when the Lord broke me. We were celebrating the 1-year anniversary of our new building and the fact that it was paid off. I urged the church to look beyond our walls and accept God's challenge for the entire island. We could not fold our arms, sit back, and enjoy the stained glass windows. But reach out, how? Our human resources were seemingly stretched to the limit. God made me know in that time of prayer that I had sinned by not asking Him to send laborers. How had I sinned? I basically was not trusting Him to be able to send someone who could work with us; someone who had a burden for the island that would cause them to stay on no matter what happened. It was lack of faith on my part. God broke me. I wept. I cried out to God, first of all in repentance, then in a plea for Him to send laborers. I did not tell God that they had to come to work with us, as long they came to evangelize this island.

Starting last fall, the answers came pouring in:

Roy and Dawn felt led by the Lord to leave Cornwall and build a house about 45 west of Funchal. They knew nothing of our work, but they told their brethren back in the UK that if there wasn't a church, they would have to start one. (Roy is a lay preacher.)

About the same time, Kristjan and his wife Andrea, decided to buy a house in a village just 3 minutes from where Roy and Dawn are building their house. This young couple came with their two small children after looking into, and rejecting possible mission fields such as Fiji, Mongolia, and Pakistan. They didn't come to help us, and didn't even know about us before buying their house, but after coming back from the US at Christmas, they believe God led them to our church and this island. (Small world department: our son Jeff stayed with Andrea and her parents in São Paulo, Brazil, when he spent the summer of 1995 there. Her parents were missionaries in Brazil. Later, Andrea went to the US to university, and Marcia, her roommate at John Brown University, is the sister of our son-in-law, Mark.)

Anabela called the other day to get directions to the church. That morning at church, we recognized each other: we met almost 25 years ago when she was dating the son of a member. Anabela emigrated to Germany where she was baptized, after being led to the Lord by an American soldier, whom she married. They went to the US and in December of last year, she says the Lord brought her back to Madeira. She came forward to ask to be a member and wants to be used in any way to further the ministry and vision of the church.

Also within the last month, one Saturday night, a stranger walked in while the choir was rehearsing the Easter cantata. Fábio, a young man of about 20, has come faithfully ever since and he, too, came forward last Sunday to ask to be a member. He gave his testimony of experimenting with drugs, but through a rehabilitation ministry in Brazil overcame the habit. Four months ago, he accepted the Lord as Savior in the First Baptist Church of Fortaleza, and decided to return to his family here in Funchal. He has asked for baptism.

Two weeks ago, Albert brought a new visitor to the morning services in English. Tânia and Albert had met two days earlier in the street in front of his house and one of them said, "Praise the Lord" or "Thank the Lord." The other one picked up on it, and Tania asked Albert if he believed in God. He said he attends a small church...she asked which one...he said the Baptist Church...and she said she had been asking God to show her where the Baptist Church is. She had heard of it, but didn't know where it was. She was converted and baptized four years ago in the Assembly of God, but didn't attend there long before her father died, and she stopped attending. She asked me this morning about membership...asked what the differences are between Baptists and Assembly of God...admitted that the strange languages and everyone praying at the same time was not for her.

We also know that two couples of tourists from the UK, who have come to Madeira off and on for a number of years, and who have attended our services, have each bought apartments in Funchal in the past couple of months so they can spend longer amounts of time on the island.

All these people coming from "nowhere"! I know it was because of one night in November 2005, and we haven't stopped praying since.