Their voices were different, yet somehow the same. Most carried accents from distant lands shaped by cultures, coasts, and foreign tongues. But their words were shared and sure:
“We are drawn by our love to Jesus our King.”
The tours of our premises are complete—more than sixteen in total over the past four days. This effort has fed my soul for yet another season. So many came from around the globe to visit a ministry that has touched the four corners of the world. What sits planted in the cornfields of Illinois has become much more than buildings of metal, plaster, and stone. It has become a trumpet making a resounding call, a glorious sound leading forth an army whose numbers are as the sands of the sea.
My role was, and remains, that of a pebble on the shore—a small grain gently swept by the tides, shaped over time by waves and wandering winds. I am one among many in this ministry. Together, we form a beachhead to help keep storms from eroding distant shores.
It is an honor to be counted among the brethren and sistren as we carry out our daily chores. On occasion, our reward arrives by the busload and reminds us, in this small country ministry, why we are here.
With a zeal that seemed to span the streams of time, they flowed in. My somber heart was moved and warmed by the occasional embrace of both stranger and friend. I thought I’d lost it decades ago, but by His grace, He has restored it—along with so much more.
At times, I felt happily overwhelmed. So many delightful personalities of endless shapes and sizes arrived from the St. Louis General Conference and beyond. Many brought gifts and offerings. All of them were singing a familiar tune:
“We are drawn by our love to Jesus our King.”
“And when they had come into the house, they saw the young Child with Mary His mother, and fell down and worshiped Him. And when they had opened their treasures, they presented gifts to Him: gold, frankincense, and myrrh.” Matthew 2:11
