The Words of the Neiland Family

Witnessing in Mission Countries

Compiled by Nancy Neiland Barton
August 1986

Testimony by an American Missionary in Central America

By nature, I am somewhat careless of details. One day, the other missionaries and members having left town, I found myself alone. I went out to buy bread, and when I got back I realized I had locked the keys to the center inside. I was expecting a student I had witnessed to the previous day, and thus I remained seated at the door, wondering how Heavenly Father and I were going to resolve this predicament. Amazingly enough, the student showed up -- and on time, at that! In a glance, he took in the situation, borrowed a rope from the concierge, and went up to the roof. I held the rope while he lowered himself through the window.

"What a story he'll be able to tell of how he came to hear the Principle!" I thought. "...If he understands and if he stays." Well, he understood some and stayed a little. People came and went in those days, although some of the comings and some of the goings were a bit odd. Witnessing downtown, in the park, and on the campus, I could bring many more people to lectures than I ever had in the United States, but no one I met that way deeply understood the meaning of our mission.

One day, in desperation, I ran blindly out of the center, not knowing where to go but promising to God to search until I found someone He would indicate to me. I got on the first bus that passed, and at the end of the line I realized I was in a totally unfamiliar area of town. Walking straight ahead a few blocks, I noticed an evangelical bookstore and went in. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a man who seemed to have light surrounding him. I dashed over to him, and we ended up having a long talk. He was a Baptist evangelist, and he did not know quite what to make of me. For a while, I helped out in a church of a colleague of his. Later he invited me to accompany him and his family on an evangelical visit to the southern part of the country. Never having been known to turn down an invitation to travel, I accepted!

My Trip with an Evangelist

I had been disillusioned by many apparently sincere people from this nation, so I always searched for situations that would bring out the real character of my contacts. I found that taking a trip together met the requirements. We set out -- seven adults, four children, and a puppy -- in a medium-sized car. It was hot and humid. Only the evangelist and I knew how to drive. We visited various villages and ranches, most of them poor. I brought a guitar, at his request, for I had taught myself to play (badly) when I discovered its magical attraction for young people.

Sometimes, as we walked into a small church for service or a home for Bible study, he would turn to me and say, "It's your turn to lead!" I longed to give the people the precious truth of the Principle, but many times as I looked at the faces gathered before me in the lamplight, I wondered if they had ever even heard of God before. I tried to paint a portrait of God with words -- as our loving Father. Most of the people had never seen a foreigner before and probably could not understand my gringo accent. I wanted to embrace them and communicate in some way. I especially wanted to teach the evangelist, but he was caught up in the woes of the impending breakdown of his marriage.

Our last stop was his mother's house -- poorer by far than any other we had visited. His mother and two older sisters had numerous small children, and there was no apparent husband or father figure around. The family's seemingly fertile lands remained untended, and the house had no furniture except for nets strung between posts for sleeping. Not knowing what else to do to help them, I spent many hours each day making and cooking tortillas for the clan. Even in such poverty, they demanded perfectly prepared tortillas, ones that split into three layers when cooked. Using only the palm of my hand and a piece of waxed paper, I would try to get them of uniform thickness and perfect roundness. Seemingly dozens of children and small animals kept vigil over my work.

On Sunday, as a celebration, they killed a scrawny chicken and cut it up into eighteen pieces, so each could have a bite. It was hard for me to swallow my piece, as I remembered how many times I had blithely downed a quarter of a fat chicken all by myself. The normally pale and listless children voraciously gobbled the rare bits of animal protein. Since we were lacking food and drinkable water, mangoes, which were just beginning to come into sea- son, became very attractive to me. They remain my favorite fruit, although I suffered horrible indigestion after eating some thirty of them that week.

Finally it was time to end our visit and return to the cool highlands. The evangelist was worn out, so I drove most of the return trip, inventing eye exercises in order to concentrate and keep the car on the road. At one point, the two-lane highway climbed a long series of switchbacks along the foothills of the highest mountain in the country. Always shrouded in mists, this peak had never been visible during my previous trips in that area. Now, around midnight, as we approached the central highland, the summit suddenly emerged out of the fog, its eternal snows illuminated by a full moon. Everyone else was asleep, so I pulled off the road and got out to pray and sing. I realized that Heavenly Father, too, often remains shrouded from our view, lying beyond our reach. But I felt that if we could persevere in our tasks in the lowlands, we might be able to climb the highlands from time to time and catch a glimpse of Him -- and maybe even reach out and embrace Him.

Neighborhood Prayer

On another occasion back in the capital city, one woman who had given us a chair when we were looking for broken-down furniture befriended us, and she introduced me to a neighbor who was involved in the Catholic charismatic movement. When one of our home members had a dream foretelling that a major earthquake would hit the capital within a couple of weeks I went to visit this charismatic woman. At her home I met a Jesuit priest, the only priest out of many who listened to my story and agreed with me that it might be a warning from God to repent and work for the salvation of the nation. In our city, we stockpiled food and water supplies and gathered 40 people to pray at the holy ground on the day the earthquake was supposed to strike. We thought a small tremor would have been appropriate, but fortunately for our country, nothing shook.

Our relationship with that priest continued, and eventually I helped him work to fulfill one of his dreams -- gathering young and old people together for prayer in the neighborhood where he was working. He introduced me to one dedicated Christian family there, and we made plans. A volunteer school was available for our use. The first week a dozen people came. I led the singing, Bible reading and explanation, and prayer. The next week, attendance doubled and each week more people came. I would go from house to house inviting people, sometimes alone and sometimes accompanied by another woman. I would also visit the homes of those who attended the prayer meetings. I developed deep relationships with some of the families. I discovered, for instance, that if I cooked dinner for the family, the mother would really respond to me. Although I had tried home church work before in this neighborhood, I began to feel the real spirit of home church and I found I could have a parental heart toward all the people. I organized one-day programs at our center to begin to teach the Principle to them, and soon some of them were starting to take up part of my mission. However, it was at this point that a year-long period of near physical exhaustion culminated in hepatitis, and I had to stay in bed.

I had thought that I had to work hard nonstop from morning until night in order to fulfill my responsibilities in my assigned nation. However, confined to bed, I remembered that it is actually Heavenly Father who is doing the work. Maybe we get in His way sometimes, and He has to press us down in order that He can be free to work.

I found that being a spiritual parent requires much more than teaching the Principle and guiding members through their spiritual ups and downs until they become strong family members. It means helping them with their homework, visiting their relatives, going to their homes and cooking meals for their family, teaching them how to buy and prepare nourishing food, showing them how to use the city bus system, massaging sprained limbs, and much more. In my mission country I began to really feel like a parent in a way I never had before, and felt a deeper response from the people there than I had experienced in the United States.

We had to be ready to lay our lives and missions on the line for our members. In one case, when a sister's parents threatened to turn us in to the immigration authorities, we dug in for battle. When one of our new members left, I stayed up three nights crying and praying, and I began to feel a bit of how Heavenly Father roust feel toward us when we turn our backs on Him. Later, when I left my nation in order to recover my health, the mother of one of our members came to the airport to see me off. With many tears she asked me, if something ever happened to her, would I take responsibility for all her children. How could I say no?

Testimony by a German Missionary in Central America

When the very first new members moved into our center, we had to establish a way of educating them in the tradition of our True Parents on a foundation of almost nothing. Of course it was not easy, and we had to overcome many conflicts to put God's words into action among ourselves. I felt very strongly that Heavenly Father cared deeply for our young members throughout their daily experiences and struggles.

I found that the people in my mission country hold true, eternal spiritual values, which they are longing to realize. When they first come, most of our guests accept the Principle very enthusiastically and usually have quite a clear understanding of it. But all of that rarely lasts long. When the inspiration is gone, it is difficult for them to remember it or to fight with their intellect and will toward the accomplishment of the ideals of the Principle. If by realizing the truth they suddenly feel there is too much responsibility upon them, they very soon retreat. Thus, many accept within a short time but leave just as quickly, without having serious reasons or knowing why they no longer believe.

Our Heavenly Father has been suffering thousands of years because of the ignorance of mankind and our insufficiency to understand His heart and accept His guidance. I often felt, how small and incapable I am! How can I become a true instrument for God? How can I reveal His heart and love the members more? I knew God had only us in this nation and I felt very deeply how He wanted to educate us step by step. Many situations came up which distressed me, and I did not know how to continue. I often felt God withdrawing from me, and I thought that all my prayers and my longing for Him were left unanswered. These were the times when God could break my pride and educate me as my "True Parent" and form my character as He wanted it. In those times I often thought of the words of Father:

It is a mystery, but it is true: Love is purified through suffering, leaving only that which is honest and genuine, and eliminating all that which is not true. Suffering frees love from the falsifying mask of selfishness. When the flood of suffering has passed over a person, then only that which is of genuine value remains.

To Give Without Measuring

Gradually I understood a little more of Father's life course, and every time I became conscious of it, I was very proud and grateful to be able to go this way. I developed a deep desire to comfort God more and to take upon my own shoulders more of the heavy burden our True Parents carry. I began to understand what it means to give constantly, to give love without measuring how much is given and without noticing the wounds inflicted in my heart by someone's inability to perceive my love. How could God endure that for so many thousands of years? I realized how soon I became exhausted when I tried to love the country and the people by myself; but I discovered that when I centered on God, I could draw from His reserve of inexhaustible energy.

At the end of a seven-day fast I found my first spiritual son in this country. He understood the meaning of the Principle very soon and moved in. He had the opportunity to go to the States and take part in both the Yankee Stadium and Washington Monument Rallies, but afterwards he had a great many struggles. We talked a long time about his problems, but everything seemed to be blocked within him. I wondered how I could succeed in keeping him for God and True Parents? How gladly I would have taken all his struggles upon myself and fought them through in his place, but I was powerless to do that and could only watch how he was suffering. It became clear to me that our Heavenly Father is in the same situation day after day and can only watch us, unable to do much to help His children because we seldom lay the necessary foundations. How lonely and sad God is!

My spiritual son often stayed away from the center all day, coming home only late at night. I could not rest until I knew he was home, and I sat waiting and praying to hear the unlocking of the garden door. In the mornings, he started leaving the house very early. I got up early too, because I sensed when he would be leaving and I wanted to see him. During this serious and uncertain time, he came to me once, weeping and asking for forgiveness. I felt how God had waited for so long -- longer ' than any one of us -- yearning for this one lost son. I felt how God would joyfully forgive us if we only sought His forgiveness enough.

After a short time, unfortunately, my spiritual son changed again and all the difficulties started anew. Finally, he moved out completely. To me, everything in life seemed to be empty and without joy. I could not help feeling how painful all of this must be to God. For hours I walked the streets, praying and crying to find another good son for God. I was struck with how precious one human life is and how easily it can be wasted. I would have gladly taken responsibility for his mistakes and willingly paid all the indemnity necessary. Then, after exactly 40 days, he came back! And then I knew the joy of a parent who welcomes home a prodigal son.

Testimony by a Japanese Missionary in the Middle East

The resentment of Ishmael seems to still lie deep within the emotions of the people of my assigned nation. Of course some of them are humble and meek, but in most of the people, I cannot help but see that feelings of animosity and hostility are readily expressed.

It was a struggle to meet people who were prepared. Even though many guests came to our center, their motivation to visit us was often impure. Even though some people came to our center regularly and heard the Principle many times, their spiritual standard did not rise. I feel they can be likened to the disciples who followed Jesus while he was on earth. Just as they did not understand the heart of Jesus, our friends also could not understand our hearts. The pain and the lifeless -- almost hopeless -- feeling this caused cannot be described in words. When Father said at the international leaders' conference on February 25, 1980, "Now you can understand deeply the heart of Jesus, can't you?" the words penetrated my soul; I had to nod in affirmation.

When I saw the people of this nation aimlessly walking the streets, their clothes dirty, and their appearance disheveled, I felt I heard the voice of God Himself crying out in pain: "That is not really me!" I recalled this experience again and again, thinking that that is always the cry of God when looking at man- kind. In His eyes we are all spiritually deformed; we lost His ideal and purpose through the fall. However, God as our Heavenly Parent is in the position to save mankind. Yet progress in restoration is slow and seems nearly impossible from a human point of view. Even though I almost gave up my mission many times, every time I thought of God's own situation I put the idea of leaving the country out of my mind. That image of God filled me with the heart to stay and continue working for His will, no matter how small the result we seemed to cultivate. 

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