Chapter 10 - David My Servant

One day a man I had never seen before came to the door of the headquarters and asked if he might use my bicycle.

“Yes, you may use my bicycle,” I replied. The man obviously did not know that as a matter of principle I had the worst bicycle in the Mission. I did not see why I should have a new bicycle while all the other workers went around on old ones, so I had bought myself an old secondhand bike for just a few dollars. I took the man out to the shed and brought out the bicycle. The man wheeled away, and never returned.

A few weeks later I met him on the street and said, “What happened to my bicycle?” “Oh,” the man replied. “I was rather short of money, and I decided to take it to the pawn shop.”

I felt my cheeks flush with anger and I wanted to scold him for treating other peopleÅfs possessions like that. I almost exclaimed, “How on earth can you put my bicycle in a pawn shop?” But instead I whispered inwardly, “Lord, what would You like to do about this case?”

Not until several days later did I learn that on that day the man had been on his way to commit suicide, because he had no money to buy food for his wife and children. Because of my gift his life had been saved. I shuddered as I thought of what might have happened if I had scolded the man, rather than listening to the Lord. What is the loss of an old bicycle compared to the loss of a human life?

But sometimes I did let the Lord down. One day Peggy and I felt strongly that we should send some money to a minister in the southern part of Japan. It was not unusual for us to share funds that God gave us with other missionaries or with Japanese Christians who were in deep financial distress.

“What shall we designate this for?” Peggy asked, as she was preparing a brief greeting to send with the check.

“Well”, I said, “why don’t we say that this is to he used for tent missions,” not giving the matter much thought.

A few days later a thank you letter came from the wife of this minister. She wrote that her husband had left for Tokyo the morning our gift arrived, to help with the Vision Crusade there. He would he away for several days. But, she wrote, before he left, he wept as he prayed.

He did not cry because he had no money to buy food for himself on the train, she, said. Nor did he cry because there was no food in the house for him to take with him. He cried because there was no food in the house for his wife and child.

“Lord,” he had prayed, “I trust You. I’m leaving my wife and child in Your care. I trust You to have something ready for them to eat by twelve this noon, when the Japanese usually eat.” Then he left for his train.

The letter from his wife continued, “I notice you have marked this gift as for tent missions. And we will keep it for this. I still trust God that He will have something for us to eat for lunch today.”

Once again I felt smitten with shame that I had not sensed the real need of this family, because I had failed to ask the Lord. “You’re reminding me, Lord,” I said humbly, ”that I can’t even give in the right way without Your guidance! Please forgive me! Help me to remember to depend on You so completely that I will never trust my own judgment about anything.”

“The body of Takeda Hiroshi of Hanyuno was found in a hamhoo thicket by a Middle School boy yesterday. Takeda San, who disappeared from his home a month ago, had apparently committed suicide by taking a dose of poison. He leaves behind a wife and two children.”

A chill went through Peggy and me when this insert in the local newspaper was brought to our attention, for the Takeda family were our neighbors! Because we felt we had been called to hospital evangelism, up until this time we had not had a real burden for our neighbors. This tragedy shocked us into a realization of our responsibility, and from then on we included our neighbors in our evangelistic efforts.

One of our neighbors until now had been just a “cough” in the house next door. For months our only awareness of this person’s existence was when this dry, hacking cough could be heard, especially in the quiet of the night. But now this cough became a challenge for prayer, and we made a promise to the Lord that each cough would be accompanied by a prayer for the salvation of that person.

A short time later we had an opportunity to visit the “cough,” and found it came from a little old lady of 60 years (which was old for Japan). She was confined in a tiny six by six foot room, dreadfully crippled with arthritis and also suffering from asthma. She was delighted to see us, for she had been terribly lonely.

Mrs. Yoneda, for that was her name, told how her son and daughter-in-law had moved her into this little room in the back of their house, so she would not be in too much contact with the rest of the family. They visited her as seldom as possible, for they regarded her as a nuisance. She told Peggy and me that she had contemplated suicide every day for the past several years, but she was so crippled that she could not devise any means to take her life. She had a vague faith in Buddha, but he had never helped her in any way,

As we unfolded the beautiful story of Jesus and His salvation to her, it was obvious that her heart was prepared to hear it. For she soon trusted Him as her Savior. What a delight it became now to visit her! Her face beamed with joy and peace. Although her eyes were so bad that she could not read the Bible, the Holy Spirit Himself become her teacher.

On several occasions we took mature Japanese Christians to visit her, to bring a blessing to her in her loneliness. Each time, those who had come to bring blessing had come out having been blessed, by hearing her sweet testimony of how God was undertaking for her day by day.

Once Mrs. Yoneda told her guests how painful her hip had been over a period of three days. She had taken all sorts of medicine, hut nothing would bring her relief. Then she cried in her great need to Jesus to help her, and as she prayed she heard a voice say, “You need Vitamin C.”

To her this was the Voice of God, and the next day she got rid of all her medicines and ordered a box of Japanese oranges. Within a few days all pain had gone! Her cough too, disappeared and she told her guests, “Jesus has taken it away.”

Even Mrs. Yoneda’s unsaved son and daughter-in-law told us how changed their mother was. They said that one day they had gone into her room and said, “Mother you never listen to the radio or watch television any more. Why is that? Aren’t you lonely?”

“No, my children,” Mrs. Yoneda had assured them. “I’m not lonely any more, because Jesus is with me every day. He talks to me and I talk to Him. I have never known such sweet companionship in all my life.”

Once the Voice of Joy broadcasts had been begun in 1960, the project was given entirely over into the hands of the Japanese. Sato Sensei and Mr. Karasawa planned the programs and did most of the preaching. Testimonies were given by Japanese believers. Mr. Maekawa was respnsible for coordinating the program and caring for the technical details. Miss Maeno edited the Fountain of Joy, and she and her helpers handled the, correspondence, later assisted by Miss Yoshida. Everyone took part in the follow-up in the hospitals that were necessary.

The pIan of having it entirely in the hands of the Japanese proved most fruitful, and the volume of mail increased so rapidly that the Post Office arranged for a large, private mail box to be put by the headquarters office, This was a great help, as the nearest mail box was quite a distance from the house, and even then was too small to hold the volume of mail that went out from the Mission headquarters every day.

The Voice of Joy was soon expanded to three stations, Radio Osaka, Radio Kyoto and Radio Kansai by faith, increasing the need of the Mission for larger support. Because of these and other rapidly expanding responsibilities, Peggy and I felt, the Lord impelling us to visit the United States and England on a deputation tour to stir up morne prayer and interest in the work by making known to new friends what God was doing in the hospitals of Japan.

Our absence would mean that the Mission would be left entirely in the hands of the Japanese. But because if had been our policy from the beginning to give the Japanese workers as much responsibility as possible, the planning went smoothly, and we were soon able to be on our way. Minoru Sato, as the senior member of the staff, was given the over-all responsibility of the work during our absence.

The work could not have been left in better hands than those of Sato Sensei, who had become a great man of prayer. Rising early in the morning every day, often at about three o’clock, he would spend hours with the Lord while everything was quiet.

Japanese houses are so small that often the whole family sleeps and lives and eats and worships all in one room. If guests come for overnight, all one does is to make the bed bigger by putting more mats on the floor. There is no such thing as a spare room or guest room.

So unless Sato Sensei got up very early or even in the middle of the night, he would have no chance to be alone with the Lord, for he would have absolutely no place to go. By the time his family awakens, he has already talked to the Lord and the Lord has talked with him. The secret of his spiritual life and his many accomplishments for the Lord are possible because he is always in contact with God.

When the family begins to stir, Sato Sensei has already begun to make breakfast, which most Japanese men would scorn as “woman’s work.” But Sato Sensei, known and loved radio preacher, senior evangelist and acting head of the Mission, still willingly humbled himself to serve his wife, children and father through lowly chores in his own home.

Beautiful Hawaii, the “Paradise of the Pacific,” is also expensive, I discovered. Peggy had gone on to the States to complete arrangements for our itinerary, while I remained in Hawaii for two weeks of meetings, but the room which I had found to rent for two weeks had cost me $90, not including meals, so that I only had $3 left in my pocket, I needed another $133 to purchase my plane ticket to Seattle.

Yet the first service which I conducted was the most difficult I had ever experienced, and not a penny was given towards my needs. I did not want to make my financial needs known to anyone, but earnestly cried to God in desperation. Yet day after day there was no response, severely testing my faith.

It was only a few days before I was to leave Hawaii that the Lord began to unveil His power in the meetings. People began to receive blessing, and in a single day I received $100. Before I left Hawaii on August 21st, every necessary penny had been received.

One of our obligations after arriving in California was to address the Ambassadors, a group of retired missionaries. I knew that the policy of this group was to give $15 to the speaker, for they had told me this ahead of time. The Lord knew how badly we needed more than this, for we wanted to send a check to Japan the very next day.

Just before I was to speak one or the retired missionaries stood up and said, “There is a missionary who needs $50 and if he receives this, he will have his fare to go home to the mission field. Couldn’t we vote to send him the $50 he still needs for his fare?” Immediately the group voted the $50 for the work of this missionary.

It was my turn to speak. But before I started, I inwardly cried out, “Lord, You know I need fifty too! Then I gave my message.

After I had finished I was given the check for $15 which I had been promised. When nearly everyone had gone and Peggy and I were just ready to leave, a man stopped me and said, “I feel constrained to write out a check for you.” He wrote out a check for $35. This brought the amount precisely to the $50 I had prayed for.

Bur while Peggy and I were on the way home, Peggy said, Someone gave me $2 at the meeting tonight.”

And then I remembered my prayer, “Lord, I need fifty too!” The Lord, Who has a good sense of humor, had answered my prayer with $52!”

RAGING TYPHOON NANCY PLOWED A PATH OF DEATH AND DESTRUCTION ACROSS HEAVILY POPULATED CENTRAL JAPAN TODAY … OSAKA, JAPANÅfS SECOND LARGEST

CITY WITH A POPULATION OF THREE AND A HALF MILLION WAS HARDEST HIT Åc

A cold chill struck our hearts as we read these headlines on September 18, 1961.

The details below the headlines gave us no comfort: ” Åc 230 mile an hour winds Åc 175 dead Åc 3,186 injured … more than 600,000 homeless Åc”

Was the Mission “family” we had left in that very area dead or alive? For ten days the thought did not leave our minds, until word finally arrived from Japan.

At Mission Headquarters on that fateful day, one of the young lady workers heard that “Nancy” was on the way, and all began to make hasty preparations. The wooden doors outside the windows were all securely fastened. Meals were hastily prepared that would keep for two days, and enough water drawn to last, in case the electricity which ran the pump was cut off. But even while making these preparations no one was very concerned. September is the month of typhoons in Japan, and they are accustomed to taking these precautions routinely. God had never permitted them to be directly hit by one.

But at 11:30 a.m. heavy winds and rain began, and the electricity was soon cut off. From 12 p.m. on, the elements gathered with tremendous force. They began to realize that this was no ordinary typhoon! The wooden doors outside the windows began to rattle violently. Soon one after the other blew off, the wind shattering them and carrying them out of sight. The force of the gale began breaking the unprotected windows so that the wind, now freely entering the house, blew the fragments of glass from one end of the building to the other. Death and destruction seemed in their very midst.

Before they knew it, the wind, which outside had been playing havoc with the tiles on the roof, blowing off of the tiles to fragments, began ripping up the floor on the inside. How much longer could the house stand! How much longer could they exist in such a terrible turmoil!

They all cried to God for deliverance at the top of their voices, all praying at the same time, as is the Japanese custom. Indeed, it would have been impossible for any one of them to hear another in the racket of wind and destruction. But their cries were not those of despair, for even when death seemed almost inevitable, an indescribable peace was in every heart.

For two dreadful hours chaos reigned and then the winds and rain began to lessen. Everyone was still alive. How they praised the Lord for this! The house around them seemed almost a shambles, but many others had fared far worse. As the rain and wind lessened, the next thought of these faithful workers was for their neighbors, and they began to venture outside. Perhaps this might be the time God would give them an opportunity to bring some of them to Christ who might never have been reached in any other way.

The YonedaÅfs house next door to the Mission had been included in the destruction of the typhoon. The house had been so badly hit that one room was completely blown away. The frightened household had taken refuge in GrandmaÅfs room, and were comforted as she prayed for their protection.

Mrs. Yoneda was making preparations for a journey of her own. She chose a picture of herself and arranged to have a very big enlargement made, for a special purpose which she had in mind.

At 4:30 a.m. on January 21st, 1962 the door slid open into the little six foot room in which she was confined, and a sleepy-looking, disgruntled young woman appeared around it. “Whatever do you want Grandma? Do you know what time it is? YouÅfve awakened all of us with your calling.”

“IÅfm very sorry, my dear,” came the gentle reply from the grandmother, thin and crippled with arthritis, and yet lying in a bed with a radiant face, “but I want you to do something for me. Would you be so kind as to bathe my body for me, and get out my best kimono? Today IÅfm going on a journey.”

“DonÅft be silly! Where can you go? YouÅfre too weak to even get out of bed.” The daughter-in-law was provoked.

Mrs. Yoneda just smiled her sweet, patient, mysterious smile, and with that the young woman flounced out of the room to get what was needed. There was nothing else to do, she guessed, than to do as the old lady asked. But she was a nuisance with her crazy ideas!

By 6:30 in the morning Mrs. Yoneda was lying on her bed, dressed in her very best kimono, her hair neatly combed. By the side of her pillow lay her most treasured possession, her Bible. At her request, her family now all gathered around her.

“Please hand me my purse, dear,” she asked her son, who was standing at her side. Taking it from him, she opened it and took out a 1,000 yen note.

“Please exchange this dirty note for a clean one,” she politely requested her daughter-in-law. A clean one was duly produced, and Mrs. Yoneda, folding it carefully in a piece of thin, white paper, handed it to her son, saying in a faint, tired but joyful voice, “Please give this to Pastor Umehara of Kashiwara Church for me. It is my gift to the church for next month.”

Then, addressing them all she said, “I expect you wonder what I am doing, and now I am going to explain it to you. Today is the day I have been preparing for for a long time now. As I told you, I am going on a journey. I am going to God’s new world. Today I shall leave you, but it will not be the end. Do not cry for me, but say banzai, “three chears,” for today I am going to be with Jesus. I would like to thank you all for what you have done for me.”

The voice became fainter, and the tired, smiling eyes closed. The doctor was summoned immediately, but Mrs. Yoneda did not rally. By that night she had peacefully gone to the “place prepared for her” near the Savior whom she so dearly loved.

Her son, in spite of his own personal feelings, had to confess before all the neighbours who attended her funeral service in their home, that she had been different ever since she had become a believer in Christ, although he could not explain it.

And there, right in the midst of them during the service, was a large picture of Mrs. Yoneda, the very picture she had enlarged the week before. It is the custom in Japan to have a picture at the funeral service, and she had quietly made this preparation for her own funeral in advance.

Banzai! Hallelujah!

Earlier that very week, halfway around the world, another important event had taken place.

Peggy and I had arrived in England from the United States on Thursday, December 14, looking forward to meeting with our supporters in the churches, beginning right after the New Year up until our return to Japan in April. Once again we were in England in time to spend Christmas with Peggy’s mother. But when the New Year began and the deputation meetings in England were underway, I was taking them alone for a while. For the Japan Mission had a new member, David Verwey, who made his appearance in this world on January 12, 1962.

Almost everything we had undertaken in our ministry for the sick of Japan had been related to the 33rd chapter of Jeremiah (including the chapter titles of this book). It was no exception when our little son was born, for God spoke to us again in this chapter in verses 21 and 22, which speak of “David, My servant.” We realized that David was to be our son’s name. God also gave us assurance at this time through this passage that our boy would be saved, and that he would become a servant of God, like David of old. Praise the Lord!