Editor’s Note: This is Part Four in Journey’s summer series, “Stories From the World of Missions.” Every two weeks this summer, we publish an article recounting a story from the experiences of our founder-director who was privileged to serve two decades as a missionary in Europe. We hope you will join us here for a summer of rejoicing at the works of our great God. This story looks back at an incredible journey that helped deliver the written Word of God to people seemingly beyond its reach.

Thanks to a wonderful couple in a church I was pastoring at the time, I once had the privilege of traveling to a country in Asia where, for one month, I worked with a local church carrying Bibles to Christians who otherwise would never possess one. I was told that the Bible was so rare in parts of the country that in some cases only one Bible could be given to an entire village or town. Rather than preserve the Bible as a museum piece, Christians would carefully and lovingly take the Bible apart and distribute it book by book or page by page. Believers would read and often memorize their portion before exchanging it with a neighbor for another portion. In this way, one Bible was made to serve an entire village or town. 

The ministry required that we carry as many Bibles as possible over the border into this nation, evading detection as we passed through several inspections, including x-ray scanners. I should add that even though the laws of the land did not prohibit the Bible and it was sold legally in limited numbers, the practice was to confiscate all Bibles not sold by the government.

THE DAY DAWNS

One day, a fellow believer from New Zealand and I crossed the border on a blistering hot summer day with over three hundred Bibles in suitcases. And three small slips of paper. Gord and I made it through the checkpoints without our Bibles being detected and then made our way to a taxi stand in this city of about four million people. Climbing into the cab, we showed the driver the first slip of paper, one telling him in his language, to take us to a specific bus station. Nodding to us, the driver plunged his vehicle into the mass of cars, bicycles, and people that made up this bustling city. Attempts to speak with him proved futile as he spoke no English and we did not speak his language.

After some time maneuvering the maelstrom of people and vehicles, the driver pulled to the side of the street and motioned to us that we had arrived. Looking around, we saw people, people, and more people going in and out of buildings of every kind. But there was no bus station in sight. Bus stations are easily recognizable for the buses parked around them, drawing up to them, or pulling away from them. As the buildings around us had none of these tell-tale indicators, we deduced, rather astutely, that we were not in front of a bus station. Foreigners though we were, we knew this much to be true. 

Smiling at us, the driver pointed to the walking street just ahead and to the right, and, nodding his head and pointing to the slip of paper, seemed to say we would find the bus station around the corner. We paid the man the amount indicated on the meter and exited his cab. Bags in hand, we walked the few yards to the corner, turned right and made our way up the walking street where, to our great surprise, we found the bus station. You might imagine that our discovery brought us joy equal to our surprise. However, while we did find a bus station, we did not find any buses or people. The station had been abandoned.

CHANGING PLANS & GOD’S HANDS

We later learned that this bus station had just been relocated to another location. This meant that the three R’s – reading, ‘riting, and ‘rithmetic, were now of vital importance to us. How so? As to reading, we couldn’t do it: our language was English and we could find no one who spoke or read it. Writing was important because we couldn’t write the character-based language of this nation. So it was that arithmetic became very important as we realized the math of our position. Our situational equation was as follows:  2 + 300 x 4 million = 1.  The explanation? Two English-speaking foreigners carrying 300 contraband Bibles and stranded in a city of four million people equals one very big problem. We could neither go forward or back. We could not press on to our destination nor return to our base. We were stranded with no way to find our way or to be found.    

This might be a good time to ask a question for the sake of those who are considering ministry in foreign countries. What do you do when stranded in a major city of the East with 300 contraband Bibles and no way of finding your way or being found? You pray! With all the faith, fire, and determination you can you can muster, you pray.

So, Gord and I dropped our cases to the ground, joined hands, and lifted our voices to God, and asked God to lead us to our destination. We recognized the importance of our mission. We knew that the Bibles we were carrying were desperately hoped for and needed by believers who were counting on us to complete our commission. Oddly enough, after we prayed, no fire came down from heaven, no neon arrow appeared indicating the way, and no map magically appeared telling us the way to go. By all apparent indications, we were on our own. But, in our hearts, we were filled with assurance that God would lead us. 

And so, we chose a direction and put leather to the pavement, walking as if we knew where we were going. The truth be told, we had no idea where we were going, only knowing our mission, and that God would be our faithful guide. After all, it was His mission.

DIVINE APPOINTMENT

Sometime later, as we walked down the street, we approached a row of buildings that appeared to be homes. Looking ahead we saw a group of people standing in front of one, a building just a short distance from the street. A woman and several young men stood at the door of the house, conversing casually, enjoying the day. When she saw us coming their way, her demeanor suddenly and dramatically changed. She jumped to her feet, began speaking in a very excited manner, and motioning with her hands. By the reactions of the young men, it was clear that she was shouting instructions and they would do well to obey.

It was obvious that we were the reason for this sudden activity. Not knowing what to do but press on, we picked up our pace, hoping to move past the house before any trouble ensued. However, as we approached the front of the house, one of the young men stepped quickly toward the pavement where we were walking. Calculating his pace and ours, it was clear he would reach us before we could pass the house. As the woman and the young men at the house watched, we drew near to the young man now standing before us on the sidewalk. It was clear that he, and they, meant for us to stop. We did so. The young man gave a slight bow, reached out, took one of my two cases, and one of Gordon’s.  With this, he turned, motioned to us with his head that we were to follow, and he began to walk down the street in the same direction in which we had been heading. Not knowing what else to do, Gordon and I looked at one another and fell in step with him, both of us fully aware that he was carrying roughly one-half of our precious cargo and could be leading us directly to the police where, quite possibly, we could sing the songs of Paul and Silas at midnight, if only we knew them. 

Casting off all thoughts of flight, we followed the young man who, from time to time, glanced back to make sure that we were following. Up and down street after street we went, turning left and right in a maze of turns that left our heads spinning. If we thought we were lost before, we had now fallen off the edge of the earth into complete oblivion. But we continued on, praying audibly that God would direct us safely to our destination and help us deliver our precious cargo. 

Imagine our surprise when, as we turned a corner, a large bus station appeared, teeming with what appeared to be thousands of people. In the middle of a vast plaza stood well over a dozen buses, lined up one next to the other awaiting departure. Our young friend continued around to the front of the buses, dropped our cases, bowed slightly to us again, and was on his way. Gordon and I tried to take in what had just happened: somehow, without a word being spoken, God had used this young and nameless friend to rescue us along our way and deliver us to a bus station. To say that we were rejoicing and thanking God for His direction would be an incredible understatement. 

NOT THERE YET

I don’t remember who said it first, but Gord and I suddenly realized that we weren’t out of the woods. Not yet. We were as lost as ever. Yes, before we left our base that morning, our team leader, a resident missionary, had instructed us to take a certain bus we would find at a certain location – at the previous station. But those instructions made no sense at this location, and our slips of paper corresponded with nothing we could see. Surrounded by a thousand people, we could not ask any of them for help. Standing in front of more than a dozen buses, we didn’t know which one led to our objective, to our base, or to a destination far off grid. We were still lost in a city of four million people with more than three hundred contraband Bibles in our possession. Standing only yards away from transportation that could see us safely on our way, we were stranded.

What do you do when stranded at a bus station in a major city of the East with 300 contraband Bibles and no way of finding your way or of being found? You pray! With all the faith, fire, and determination you can muster, you pray. We dropped our cases to the ground and, standing in the midst of this moving mass of people, Gord and I joined hands and lifted our voices to God, asking Him to once again lead us.  Once again, no fire came down from heaven, no neon arrow pointed to a bus, and no guide magically appeared out of the sky telling us which bus to take. By all apparent indications, we were on our own. But again, our hearts were filled with assurance that God would guide us in our mission.

WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE DONE?

As we considered our options, a man jumped out of the bus directly in front of us. He approached us and, like the young man earlier, he bowed slightly to us, reached out and took two of our bags. He turned around and walked away, nodding at us to follow. He climbed back onto the bus from which he had just descended and directed us toward the back of what amounted to a half-size school bus. As he stowed our cases, we saw that we were the first passengers on this excursion to who knew where. We showed him our third slip of paper. He nodded and directed us again to take the seats at the very back of the bus. Seated, we noted that the air inside the vehicle was even hotter than the stifling August air outside.  Words like “oven,” “furnace,” and “boiler” came to mind as we began our perspiration contest.

We later learned that buses in this part of the world do not depart at a precisely fixed time, but instead, leave only when they are full – a determination made by the bus captain who, in this case, was the man who had “invited” us to ride his bus. Knowing this, we understood why he extended his invitation to us in the first place: he wanted to fill the bus any way possible so that it might leave. 

Focused on our perspiration contest, we watched as people slowly joined our company. In no time at all, we were a mobile menagerie. The benches filled with people (who all seemed to take note of us), cats and small dogs in cages, chickens, and even a small goat and a pig. Once the benches were filled, the bus captain lowered small seats in the aisles between the benches and these were filled as well. At last, our mobile blast furnace was filled to capacity and there was nothing left to do but hit the road for who knew where. And exactly who did know where? Not Gord or me, that’s for sure.

The heat was relentless as the bus bounced through the city. My only relief was in the fact that I was seated next to the window allowing the 100° exterior air to cool my face and head. But still the heat was unbearable, even in the face of this breeze. The fact that we had no water did not help our comfort or health. After thirty minutes or so, the bus left the central part of the city and we began to see some space between buildings. Then, slowly, the scenery transformed to more space than buildings. The air became only slightly cooler as the bus traveled on and we made our way into the countryside. 

WE’RE GOING TO DISNEYLAND

Over an hour after beginning our journey, I looked ahead and to the right along the horizon. I was shocked to see what appeared to be a Ferris wheel; in the middle of nowhere, I thought I saw a Ferris wheel. Wondering about the effects of the heat, I rubbed my eyes and looked again. Was the heat making me lightheaded? Was I seeing things that weren’t there? A second look seemed to confirm the first: standing in the middle of nowhere was a Ferris wheel. I pointed out the circle of steel to Gord who, initially, wondered at the effect of the heat on me as well. But craning his neck and getting a better view, he too saw that there was, indeed, a Ferris wheel rising up like a phoenix in the middle of this nowhere land. As the bus continued on its way, not only did the Ferris wheel grow larger but the outlines of a roller coaster and other tall structures appeared in the vicinity of it.

Intrigued that an amusement park was located so far from any city, I thought no more of it until our bus turned right and headed toward the amusement park. I thought to myself at the time: “Oh, great, we’re going to Disneyland _______!” And secondly, “How will we ever get out of the country and back to our base?”

The bus drawing closer to the amusement park, and still on my right, I could distinguish more of its structures. As the bus turned right again and drew near to the park, it entered a large circle that was ringed by several tall and beautiful buildings. We stopped in front of a tall building of green marble. Above the door was a sign in raised gold letters, evidently the name of this building, a hotel. We took out the third of our small slips of paper and with trembling hands observed that the characters on our slip of paper matched exactly those above the door.

God had been our faithful guide, directing us every step of the way to our destination. He had been our living map across every border and obstacle, making a way for us to fulfill the commission He had given us.     

“And I will lead the blind in a way that they do not know, in paths that they have not known I will guide them. I will turn the darkness before them into light, the rough places into level ground. These are the things I do, and I do not forsake them.” Isaiah 42.16 (ESV)

FINAL THOUGHTS

Let’s continue taking the Gospel of Jesus to all the world as He commanded (Matthew 28.18-20).

Let’s continue going to the ends of the earth, seemingly “over the edge,” with the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Not presumption, but faith. Faith to go farther than we think we can go. Faith to do more than we think we can do. After all, with people, things may be impossible, but with God all things are possible.

Let’s continue focusing on giving people the written Word of God in their language. The Bible is God’s revelation of Jesus Christ: who He is, what He did for us on the Cross and in the Empty Tomb; all things He has commanded us to believe and obey. It is His supreme Instruction Book in discipleship.

Let’s continue supporting missionaries who serve in dark places, men and women who know the “guts” of those places – language, people, local history, religious and governmental politics, power sources, nuances, and networks. These missionaries do the daily, in-the-trenches battle that only they can do. They and their labor are worthy of our support.

Let’s continue going into all the world and living by faith. Yes, let’s plan. Yes, let’s study and strategize. These are absolutely essential. But without the leading of the Holy Spirit – His heart, mind, eyes, and touch – our efforts are just that, our efforts. Jesus promised He would be with us always and everywhere, to the end of the age and to the end of the earth as we go in His name, obeying His command to make disciples of all nations.

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NOTE: Journey Pastoral Coaching exists to provide pastoral coaching to Millennial ministers.

Saddled with large student debt, just beginning to set up homes and start families, and serving in low paying first and second positions, Millennials are those who most desire but can least afford to pay for pastoral coaching.

We are able to do so thanks to the faithful and generous support of individuals and churches like yours who want to see young leaders not only enter the ministry, but remain in the ministry. 

Now, more than ever, we need your help. 

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“Of all vocations, surely the gospel ministry is the one whose paradigm is most radically formed by the dynamics of godly mentorship.” 

Stephen Baldwin