Scott and I wanted to share a note that a woman from our church (Betty) wrote down for us. The note is actually a chapter from the book,
When Families Pray by Cheri Fuller. As a part of the World Race, Scott and I will need to know that our soldiers on the homefront are battling alongside us.
The missionary rose from his campsite where he had spent the night enroute to a city for medical supplies. He extinguished his small campfire, pulled on his canvas backpack, and hopped on his bicycle to continue his ride through the African jungle. Every two weeks he made this two-day journey to collect money from a bank and purchase medicine and supplies for the small village where he served. When he completed those errands, he hopped on his bike again for the two-day return trip.
When the missionary arrived in the city, he collected his money and medical supplies and was just about to leave for home when he saw two men fighting in the street. Since on of the fighters was seriously injured, the missionary stopped, treated him for his injuries, and shared the love of Christ with him. Then the missionary began his two-day trek home, stopping in the jungle again to camp overnight.
Two weeks later, as was his custom, the missionary again made the journey to the city. As he ran his various errands, a young man approached him- the same man the missionary had ministered to during his previous trip. ” I knew you carried money and medicine with you,” the man said, “so my friend and I followed you to your campsite in the jungle after you helped me in the street. We planned to kill you and take all the money and drugs. But just as we were about to move in and attack you, we saw twenty-six armed guards surround and protect you.”
” You must be mistaken,” said the missionary. “I was all alone when I spent the night in the jungle. There were no guard or anyone else with me.”
“But sir, I wasn’t the only one who saw the guards. My five companions saw them, too. We counted them. There were twenty-six bodyguards, too many for us to handle. Their presence stopped us from killing you.”
Months later, the missionary related this story to the congregation gathered at his home church in Michigan. As he spoke, one of the men listening stood up and interrupted him, wanting to know the exact day the incident occurred. When the missionary identified the specific month and day of the week, the man told him “the rest of the story.”
“On the exact night of your incident in Africa, it was morning here in Michigan, and I was on the gold course. I was about to putt when I felt a strong urge to pray for you. The urge was so strong, I left the golf course and called some men of church right here in this sanctuary to join me in praying for you. Would all you men who prayed with me that day stand up?”
One by one the missionary counted the men. There were twenty-six of them, the exact number of “armed guards” the thwarted attackers had seen guarding him!
Needless to say, Scott and I know how important it is to have the body of Christ here in the States fighting for us! For our battle is not against flesh and blood…
