In the last post I explained our growing discontent with our pastor. We really tried to work things out with him. Our desire then was to remain in the church and expand the ministries God was opening. But the pastor made it impossible. So...
We finally had no recourse but to leave. As I think I said before, it was telling that the group of us who left were almost all those that "got things done" in the church. Only a handful of people were left to warm DD's lonely pews.
One of our first tasks was to find a provisional place to meet. Our living room happened to be the biggest, so we congregated at our home. Saddened by DD, we also had a feeling of excitement, looking forward to what God would do as we started a new church, in line with His directions.
A little later, an Australian church offered us the use of their fellowship hall, so that we could hold our services on Sunday afternoons. The church was in a different suburb, a good bit farther away from us, but that was OK...because it was a lot closer to one of the government immigrant hostels. Spanish-speaking immigrants...a prime "mission field"! One of our more important ministries was visiting these people, getting to know them, seeing how we could help them, and inviting them to church. Different ones of us helped in various way. For example, Germán might take men to buy a car, so they wouldn't get ripped off; I might go with a woman to an appointment to interpret for her.
Since we held services in the afternoon, anyone from the hostel missed the supper hour in the dining room, so we women made up for it! We'd all take food, and after the meeting, we'd spread a big table full of goodies to eat while chatting. In a way, you could say we were setting TWO tables: a spiritual one, and a material one. The latter one had its importance, too, as it was one more way of showing we truly cared about the people who came, and our invitations to church weren't just a way to rack up numbers.
One day when Germán and I had taken our little Dan to a park, we overheard a family talking in Spanish. We introduced ourselves, chatted, and invited them to church. He came to the service the next Sunday and later told his wife that he was amazed at the atmosphere of love in the church...the following Sunday she and their two little girls came with him...and on the fourth Sunday they accepted Jesus into their lives. We forged a personal friendship with them, too, which was a mutual blessing.
Germán and five other men took turns preaching and overseeing other details of the new church. I played the piano, sang, taught Sunday School and interpreted whenever we had an English-speaking guest preacher. Others contributed time and talents. I think this venture was where we most deeply felt God's presence and power; and where we felt spiritually the peace and joy He promised...and where we most sharply felt SECURE...under His wing...
Beneath the Shadow
Deep confidence Your shadow brings
as I curl up beneath Your wings,
my covering safely supervised
by Him Whose power rips through the skies.
The warmth of Life I lean against
is both my comfort and defense.
Yes, I may fly, and soar, or glide!
but never too far from Your side.
Not chain nor leash, not force nor fear,
but cords of love will keep me near,
so always I return to rest
behind the shielding of Your breast;
always return to live, to Be
where best my soul and heart are free,
where of Eternity I dream,
wrapped in Sufficiency's soft gleam,
in Eagle presence, by Whose sheen
will my Redeemer's face be seen...
I'll know to Whom it is I cling
beneath the shadow of Your wing!
(Becky Rhon - all rights reserved)
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