Delay

“God answers all prayers”, my mother used to tell me. “Sometimes He answers yes, sometimes no, and sometimes wait”. Although I’ve seen Him answer in the affirmative many times, I’ve often experienced the wait, and sometimes even more vividly the “no”.

Pre-COVID I traveled and served in other parts of the United States and the world. A few of those trips subsequently ended in disaster! I don’t believe my prior presence there was a causative factor, but it is curious to me.

During a medical mission trip to Jamaica one summer, I found myself in the middle of a hurricane. As I ran down a Kingston street towards my hotel, my umbrella inverted, which I immediately released and kept running towards shelter—or so I thought. To this day, I can’t comprehend how my hotel bed became soaked with the windows closed!

In Haiti, one October, I lived in an orphanage with approximately 200 children. It was a remarkable experience where I, along with a team of various health professionals, rendered care to them and local villagers. Some of those same children nursed me back to health after I became ill from a parasitic infection. A few years later, the now infamous earthquake destroyed their village and none of the children survived.

Antigua, Guatemala, was where I lived with a local family to immerse myself in the Spanish language and culture. I enjoyed walking the ancient cobblestone streets and conversing with the locals. My school was in view of Mount Fuego—“fire mountain”, a supposedly dormant volcano. I would gaze for extended periods of time at its striking, yet ominous, allure. Only once do I recall viewing its peak, as clouds otherwise obscured it. Imagine my utter dismay as some years later, I learned of its eruption and destruction of the beautiful city in its wake.

Obviously, not all of my stories ended in peril. One such adventure hinted of disappointment, but God, in His wisdom, had other plans. It blessed me to serve with a sizable group as a lay evangelist in a country I had only read about as a child. They assigned me to a church in a small farming village. For approximately three weeks, mostly every night and twice on Saturdays, I presented a series of health lectures and preached the gospel of Jesus Christ. My host pastor translated for me. My vocabulary was rapidly expanding and I could converse in brief bouts of colloquial phrases! Yes, I had prayed and still pray for the gift of tongues.

One night, as I waited for my transport back to my hotel, I received a text from a young man who apparently had been attending the meetings. He expressed an interest in the messages and asked very pointed and probing questions. “Here is a seeker”, I thought to myself, and obliged him in our ongoing text dialogue. Though motivated, he did not commit at that point.

During my last sermon, I made a heartfelt and tearful appeal for those that had heard the messages and felt convicted by them through the Holy Spirit, to make a public declaration to continue their spiritual journey with Christ in their newfound truth. A handful of people came forward. This young gentleman did not. As I glimpsed him in the audience, I made a few targeted and prolonged appeals, doing all but calling him by name. He did not respond. A different young man came. I finally ended the sermon and sat down.

As I returned to the United States, I often prayed for my friend and kept in contact with him via social media. Eventually, he shared with me news and photos of his subsequent marriage and the birth of his children. Interestingly, he often asked when I would return to his country. Unfortunately, as customary with the passing of time and distance, my contact and prayers diminished, but God’s interest and love did not.

To my surprise, recently I received a text message from my young friend. It was now almost five years since my visit. The picture he sent showed a group of people who stood in a church sanctuary. I recognized the scene. It was the church where I had preached. However, something was different and very special about this photo. There he was, smiling and standing next to his wife, both about to be baptized by immersion as per Christ’s example (Matthew 3:16; Mark 1:10)! In amazement and almost disbelief, I had to re-read his message and enlarge the picture. “Praise the Lord!”, I exclaimed.

I shared the picture and good news with my host pastor. He reminded me of the apostle Paul’s injunction found in I Corinthians 3:6. I knew and had recently read the passage. Now I understood it in a new light. “I have planted, Apollos watered; but God gave the increase.”

All glory be to God—I’m a “farmer”!