APPENDIX 2

Oh Serve the Lord with Gladness
Not in an earthly palace,
But in a humble stall,
Ye view the Lord of Heaven,
Wrapped in a swaddling shawl.
Not in an earthly palace,
But in the unnamed place,
Ye view the Lord of glory,
And marvel at His grace.
Not in an earthly palace,
But in the cottage home,
Ye view the Lord of comfort
Calm Martha’s grief and groan.
Not in an earthly palace,
But on the tree of shame,
Ye view the Lord of mercy
Who settled all God’s claims.
Oh give to Him thy homage,
And give to Him thy praise,
Who by His death of suffering
From sin, we He hath raised.
Lord such is our weak effort,
Like vapour so our days.
Grant grace and power to serve Thee,
And live unto Thy praise.

T.J. Thompson

My parents were the strongest influence in my life with regard to becoming a Christian. God was the center of  my family’s life growing up, with consistent morning and evening family devotions and regular attendance at  assembly meetings, which seemed as natural a part of our lives as breathing. I didn’t balk at going to meetings  since my friends would be there, and I looked forward to seeing them.

For years, in family devotions, our family usually read the Proverbs in the morning, and sometimes I thought  with irritation that my parents read the parts which applied to me with extra emphasis, which they didn’t, of  course. The Proverbs, easy enough for a child to understand, convicted me.

When I was about 11, two men who preach the gospel, Art Ward and Robert Surgenor, came to Omaha and held gospel meetings. It was then  that I started paying serious attention—like someone jolted awake. I couldn’t fall asleep most nights after  meeting—trying with all my might and main to believe and scared that the Lord would come at any moment.  Several nights I sat by my parents’ door listening to their breathing. Sometimes I woke them up and asked them  to show me how to be saved. My dad read Scriptures and prayed with me, but I couldn’t understand anything.  Yet, I felt pressured, even pestered when the preachers talked to me at the door about salvation. Sometimes I  would try to slip by unseen after the meeting out another door. Finally, to get them “off my back”, I told the  preachers I had gotten saved through “it is finished” ( not sure where that came from, but it seemed to satisfy  those who had been asking me if I was thinking about getting saved).

But, I wasn’t saved. One day I thought the Lord had come when my mom forgot to pick me up from my piano lesson. I sat on the curb waiting and waiting, feeling panicky and crying, wondering how I would survive in The Great Tribulation. Finally, I used the piano teacher’s phone to call home and was so relieved to hear my sister Martha answer. The Lord hadn’t come after all.

Around ages 12-13, I started to wonder if there was a God and if what my parents had taught me was true, as  any person in the world could have good, sincere intentions and still believe something that wasn’t true.  Believing something handed down to me from my parents wasn’t satisfactory. I had to know for sure for myself.  A time or two, I asked my dad how he knew there was a God. He showed me Psalm 19 “The heavens declare the  glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handywork…there is no speech nor language where their voice is  not heard….” He told me to look at Creation and think carefully where it all came from--all this beauty, the  precision of the seasons, the earth suspended in the vastness of space, the stars, humans being fearfully and  wonderfully made, man’s conscience telling him what is right and wrong, etc. Was not Creation, right under our  noses, evidence enough? Did it not tell, no, shout, the existence of God as in Psalm 19?

My dad started mission work in Russia in 1990 and took me to Russia with him several times, and I saw for  myself a country whose primary “religion” for over 70 years had been atheism. I saw rampant alcoholism,  despair, hopelessness, which were not purely out of economic hardship, but also spiritual emptiness. If there is  no God, then life is meaningless, you live (for what?) and die like a dog, end of story. I saw firsthand that  atheism is both bleak and dangerous—a step towards despair and also great wickedness, as there is no fixed  point of reference—no reliable source to say what is right or wrong. I remember hearing my father quote “The  fool hath said in his heart, ‘there is no God’” several times. It was interesting to realize that a person can be an  intellectual or even a genius—and still be a fool. Yet, the simplest man can be counted as wise—trusting in the  Lord like a child. What finally convinced me of the existence of God was the wisdom of Scriptures I heard and  read in family devotions and in meetings. The Scriptures struck me how they were always so precisely on the  mark, and I became convinced of theabsolute reliability of Scripture, which meant that I must conclude that  God does indeed exist, which also meant I was accountable to Him and could not do whatever sin I pleased and  get away with it. Truth be told, knowing this felt confining. I did not realize that the truth sets you free.
 
 My great difficulty was the transition from knowing the gospel message all my life--to believing it. I heard the  gospel countless times, many stirring messages that would inspire me to determine to get right down to  business about salvation, but there was always some distraction. Then, in 1994, one month before my 14th  birthday, Roy Weber of Stout, Iowa was preaching the gospel in Omaha and quoted Romans 5:6 “For when we  were yet without strength, in due time Christ died for the ungodly”. Tired of struggling, trying to think, trying to  believe, when he quoted that verse, it was then I realized simply that Christ suffered for me personally. Every  last drop of God’s righteous wrath for my sins was poured out on Christ. God wanted me to be reconciled to  Him, and He has completely taken care of ALL of it. If He loves me that much, how could I, or why would I resist  His love?

Knowing that one day I will see and be with the Lord--who I now see by faith--energizes me, gives my life  purpose, and definitely makes it worth living. “For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.” Philippians 1:21
Elizabeth Stickfort
Stout, IA
 
 

Bryan Joyce’s Story:

In the early 1950’s Bert and Emily Joyce had moved from the Toronto Ontario to Newfoundland and Labrador to spread the message of God’s love to this area of world.  With the lack of good roads the gospel was brought to many villages by boat and small aircraft.  It was in the small Labrador fishing town of Red Bay, that Bryan, Bert and Emily’s sixth child was born.

As a child I enjoyed life.  Summer was a time for fishing trips, games and berry picking, while winter with all of its snow offered endless fun.  The one thing that stands out in my mind as a boy was the importance given to the Word of God.  It was a daily practice in our home for the family to sit around the table to read the Word of God and pray.  My parents realized the value of eternal things and instilled the truth and principles of God’s Word into our minds.

In 1973 we moved to Corner Brook a small city of 25,000 on the west coast of Newfoundland and as a boy of seven I easily fit into the new environment.   As I grew older the reality of my spiritual need before God began to bother me more and more.  I knew from the Bible that I was a sinner and I also knew I could not change the condition of my heart myself.  It was on the 27th day of June, 1981, with my mother at my side, after a long ordeal of struggling that I accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as my Saviour and Lord while reading in 1 John1:7, “The blood of Jesus Christ His son cleanseth us from all sin.”  I found out that night that when Jesus died, He was dying for my sin.  My acceptance of Jesus by faith brought me into the knowledge of sins all forgiven.  Not long after my salvation I obeyed the Biblical teaching of water baptism and formed a part of a local Bible believing church that gathered in New Testament simplicity. 

I graduated from high school in 1985 with an interest in the field of electronics.  Hearing of a good program I moved to Toronto with and was accepted at RCC Radio College of Canada.  I finished with both Engineering Technician and Technology degrees and soon after started working with Northern Telecom designing and testing communication equipment.  Being low on the seniority list I was laid off with the Bell Canada strike of 1989 and returned home to Newfoundland to seek employment. 

I took the months following to get my private pilot’s license and then got employment with the Newfoundland Telephone Company.  In 1992 the greatest thing apart from salvation happened when I married my Rachel, a girl from Augusta Maine, USA.  We both had a deep care for the need of others to hear the gospel, and so after seven years of secular work, I left to preach the good news of the Bible.  In 2004 we moved to Toronto to help in the spread of the gospel among the Chinese immigrants in Scarborough.  A small church has been formed in this area and the gospel continues to reach into the lives of many.  Presently we live in Oakridge’s Ontario with our family of four children and continue with God’s help to share the Good News of God’s salvation.

For more history about Gospel work in Newfoundland, see the autobiography of George Campbell.

From my earliest memories, I wanted nothing more than to know I was saved and on my way to Heaven.  I heard many people talking about the joy of salvation and their longing to be with the Lord Jesus, the One who loved them and died for them.  I listened to discussions about how soon the Lord Jesus was coming back to take Home all those who had trusted Him.  That made my very being recoil with fear.  I didn’t want to be left behind to face the judgement of God and then to face an eternity in Hell and the Lake of Fire.

My parents prayed for me and many times I saw them on their knees.  They were faithful in reading us the scriptures in our home and we learned many gospel verses in the Bible.  I had no doubt that I was a sinner.

Once when my little brother was five, he and I sat in my older brother’s room listening to him explain the way of salvation.  My brother was saved that night and not wanting to miss out, I said I was saved too.  I knew in my heart I wasn’t, but for a few years I tried to pass myself off as a Christian.  I tried reading my Bible, but it was all a lie, to make others think I was saved.

One night as we were getting ready for bed, my sister said to me ‘I don’t think you are really saved at all.’  I knew she was right and I desperately wanted to be saved for real.  ‘Believing’ was a problem for me!  I tried so hard to ‘believe’ and even looked words up in the dictionary to see if I really knew what they meant.  I was forgetting it was the Saviour that does the saving, not my ‘believing’.  I got into bed that night and while I was lying there, a verse came into my mind.  I had learned it when I was little and knew it well.  ‘Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved.’  Acts 16:32.   I just took God at His Word.  He does not lie!  I took it for myself that Jesus came into the world – and that He went to a cross and took the punishment that I deserved and died to take away my sin.  I trusted Him as my Saviour. 

I could not live without Him today.  He comforts me when I am sad, He helps me when I am troubled.  The best part is yet to come!  He is coming back for me to take me to Heaven for all eternity.

Bonnie lives in Ontario, Canada, with her husband Gary who writes the newsletter The Encourager on this site.