The Gospel for the World
From Greenland's icy mountains,
From India's coral strand,
Where Afric's sunny fountains
Roll down their golden sand,

From many an ancient river,
From many a palmy plain,
They call us to deliver
Their land from error's chain.

Can we, whose souls are lighted
With wisdom from on high, --
Can we to men benighted
The lamp of life deny?

Salvation, oh Salvation!
The joyful sound proclaim,
Till each remotest nation
Has learnt Messiah's name.

Waft, waft, ye winds, His story;
And you, ye waters, roll,
Till, like a sea of glory,
It spreads from pole to pole;

Till, o'er our ransomed nature,
The Lamb for sinner slain,
Redeemer, King, Creator,
In bliss returns to reign.
                              R. Heber

There were other hymns that have particularly touched me during my days here, as I've looked through the small section of English hymns in the Welsh hymnal. They seem to speak so prophetically about God's wonderful plan, I couldn't contain my tears as I read them through. In particular were Breathe on me, breath of God and Come, Holy Spirit, Come. Both are such sweet confessions of the fullness the Lord wants to pour into His people here and everywhere.

I spent time praying and singing, and found myself with the desire for someone to come to the chapel. I thought that somehow I needed to make contact with at least one of the members, and be able to share with them what the Lord was showing me, but nobody came. I did however notice an announcement laminated in plastic and tied with string to the fence by the road. I thought it strange I hadn't noticed before, and closer examination showed me that the string was very clean and had obviously been put there earlier that morning, or Sunday. There was another copy in English, and I read the announcement, and at the bottom was the name of the church secretary and her address. Aha! Here is the person to contact I thought then. So I jotted down the information, and planned to try and find a phone number later on and call. After a while the rain clouds started to close in, so I took off on the scooter before I got caught in a downpour!

Tuesday, October 22, 2002
Today I started off my day writing yesterday's journal, and found myself thinking about calling the pastor so frequently I finally went down to Alex's house and used the phone. His wife answered and said he'd gone off to a meeting. When I asked where, she said in Cardigan! He would have a meeting from 11 until twelve. She gave me his mobile number, so I rang him up immediately, and he said he could meet me briefly after his meeting! By the time I got cleaned up and rode the scooter down to the town, it was 12 o'clock. I asked to have lunch with me, but he had to drove off in 15 minutes, so we sat in his car and talked. Well, I talked, and he listened very attentively. I briefly told him the whole story, and he said "that would be wonderful" but without much conviction that it was possible in a shrinking little church. I told him my desire to share with a few people who might be open to the idea, and would be possibly interesting in praying about this. He gave me the names of a few people, and more or less where they lived, all fairly close to the chapel, and so there was my agenda for the day!

I can't take time now to explain what a marvelous time I had that day. But for starters I met with the sweetest old lady, the one who had been in that miraculous baptism! It was drizzling a bit, and helmet in hand I knocked at the door. She opened up and glancing at me said, "You were in the chapel Sunday. Come in, come in, I don't like people standing in my doorway." She invited me to have a seat quite naturally, as if I weren't a total stranger! That supernatural event had taken place 70 years ago but she remembered it like it were yesterday, and averted her eyes as they filled with joy! What a very speciaol day that had been for her. She told me about how life in the chapel had been for most of her years, with three meetings every Sunday. We chatted about how things had changed, and the chapel had gone from 3 meetings to one, and then after more years just twice a month. And then just a couple years ago that was reduced to once a month. It was sad for her because she only gets a chance to her friends then.

I told her the story of how I had comes to Wales 3 years ago and stumbled across the chapel. And then went on to share all tat the Lord had been showing me, and how it related to the event of her baptism, which I've previously described. She said how wonderful that would be if the Lord were to do something like that. I asked her she would pray about it, and if she might ever be able to get together with her other friends who might be able to pray with her. She told me she had had to stop driving 6 months ago because of her failing eyesight, and it was hard to move around. She said many other of the members were also getting too old to drive, but yes, it would be nice. It sounded to me like they have never met together in a hnousehold for prayer or anything church-related. I took a few moments to pray with her for her ailments, and also for the Lord to touch her with the joy of His presence, and for His will to be done in the chapel. As I took her hand in both of mine to pray, she placed her other hand on top of mine in such a tender way, and as we prayed I could feel the Lord giving her joy. I think it had been a very very long time since she had prayed with anyone like that. Perhaps since her husband died 20 years ago.

From there I visited two other couples, both of who recognized from being in the chapel and received me graciously. I was invited to a cup of tea or coffee and bisquits, and as I shared my story they listened with interest. In both cases they also said "that would be nice", evidencing the year-worn strain of doubt endemic to a slowly shrinking church. One of the gentleman saids he was sure that his years of Christianity were limited to a very superficial level, and that he had always known a desire to "go deeper" in the Lord but had never really known how. The Sunday meeting were always the same, a song, a pasalm, a song, the long pastoral prayer, a song, the offering, the sermon, and a final song. He had long since given up hoping for more. He seemed glad to hear that there is so much more. He is going to send me a casette of their choral music from the Hymn Festivals, and I will send him a copy of the Duncan Campbell testimony of the Hebrides revivfal, of which no one who I visited had ever heard of before.

I was impressed by hlow isolated all these people are from one another. The richness of fellowship that we enjoy is practically unknown to them outside of special but infreqquent occasions. Wouldn't it be a blessing to somehow, even from far away, promote informal gatherings for tea, fellowship and prayer? How difficult for a pastor trying to cover 4 or more congregations and barely able to keep up with the "official" activities. Lord bless these wonderful, warm and needy people!

Wednesday, October 23, 2002
As I got to the chapel this morning, the fact that it would be my last day here made me suddenly sad. What very special times I've had here with God, and how quickly the time has passed! I knew this would be a special day, but had no idea just how much! While praying here yesterday, I had found myself with a desire that at least once someone would stop by and offer to pray with me, or at least ask what I was praying about here. Then, Tuesday evening, just minutes after I got home to an empty house, the phone rang, and it was Harry Hewat calling for me! He said he had been sharing my Wales experiences and journal with a couple of minister friends, both prophetic types and who have been involved in praying for revival for the UK for several years. They had felt "resonance" with the things I'd been sharing, and felt impressed upon by the Lord to take the 4 hour drive out from Birmingham early in the morning to come and stand with me in prayer for a couple of hours. Before he had finished, tears streamed down my face and I couldn't even answer for a moment, so overwhelmed was I at God's benevolent response to my unspoken desire! Harry wondered if it would be allright if they were to come out! He was going to drive out with them, but they had to be back in Birmingham at 6 in the afternoon. Wow, what a blessing!

Once inside the chapel, I went up into the pulpit to pray from there, and as I worshiped my eyes were drawn to the big Welsh Bible lying open on the stand. I went to see what scripture was open, and found Psalm 123:

-1 Unto thee lift I up mine eyes, O thou that dwellest in the heavens.

--2 Behold, as the eyes of servants look unto the hand of their masters, and as the eyes of a maiden unto the hand of her mistress; so our eyes wait upon the LORD our God, until that he have mercy upon us.

As I read this the Lord spoke so clearly to my heart that this was exactly what I had been doing here these many days. Who else could I look to? I was immediately overwhelmed by tears of longing for God's grace to be shed abroad in this place. And as He had so clearly showed me in May, what more could I possibly do here? "As the eyes of the servants look to the hand of their master" is such a clear picture of total dependence. "Without Me you can doing nothing.." Jesus said. That was my condition exactly. My only avenue of action has been to "wait upon the Lord our God until that He have mercy upon us", and make supplication that He pour out His presence on this place and this land according to His promise to me, confirmed already many soo many signs.

--3 Have mercy upon us, O LORD, have mercy upon us: for we are exceedingly filled with contempt.

--4 Our soul is exceedingly filled with the scorning of those that are at ease, and with the contempt of the proud.

As as read this next section I was again overwhelmed by the Spirit as I understood that it was not for my sake but rather the sake of His church that I agonized so. The church has been made contemptible for it's ineffectiveness in our days, and for centuries. As I looked at this empty little chapel, and saw at once so many church building devoid of any life or significance in their communities, my heart broke in a thousand pieces before the Lord. How could we be so irrelevant to the world around us? What poverty must be the picture the world has of His church. How many empty buildings does the world see? How little godly influence is exerted in our modern society? What total indifference to the things of God prevails at every level and age group!

"Lord have mercy upon us. And not for our sake, Lord, but for the sake of Your Name! Oh Jesus, You hung on the tree and shed Your blood for the redemption of the very ones that scorn You! Oh God, have mercy and reveal Yourself! Just as You said, Lord, through Jeremiah, 'And I will sanctify my great name, which was profaned among the heathen, which ye have profaned in the midst of them; and the heathen shall know that I am the LORD, saith the Lord GOD, when I shall be sanctified in you before their eyes.' So be it Lord God. Our eyes look to You as the eyes of the servant to the hand of their Master."

I was caught up in this travailing for some time, when I heard the door of the chapel open and Harry called out my name. It was such patent testimony of His incredible love for and care of me that my tears were changed to tears of joy unspeakable! He came in with his two friends and introduced us and we embraced with unspoken oneness of heart and purpose. When I recovered from the wave of emotion, we talked some, I showed with them what the Lord had just shown me, and we began to pray together. What joy to hear other voices than my own in resounding in this place! What strength of purpose I felt as we cried out in unison for God's mercy and purpose. Oh what joy flooded my soul to know the accompaniment of other human hearts brought into the same cry of God's own heart of love for His wayward children!

It is hard to describe how I felt as the brothers shared with me the things the Lord had shown them and why they had come. One of them told me that as they were driving out here, the Lord showed him a picture of a hang glider that was soaring around and around over the hills and valleys, in preparation for making its landing here. He said I was that glider, sent by the Spirit of the Lord, and that they came in spiritual representation of their country to receive me and assist and steady the wings of the glider as it touched down and landed! There were many other words they shared in which the Lord totally confirmed the purpose of my coming here, and His pleasure at my obedience. I was so humbled and blessed and comforted by this manifestation of His love and care for me. What amazing Love is this we know in Jesus, that he would cause two strangers with busy lives of their own to drive nine hours with my friend to bring me this special affirmation of His calling me to this place!

After spending a marvelous two hours with these saints of God, and a quick bowl of soup in the pub where the Lord has people reserved for Himself, I returned to the chapel for my last hours there. Since last week, I had felt the desire to tackle some of the grave plots that we totally overgrown with brambles and even small trees. Again I had to marvel at how favored I have been by the Lord during my time here. As I was parking my scooter, the caretaker came out of the old stable pushing his lawnmower! I had told him earlier I'd like to do some cleaning up, so he fetched me an axe, a saw, pruning shears and machete, and off I went to the plot that I had set my sights on. It was about eight feet wide and sixteen feet long, surrounded by a five foot high wrought iron fence with a gate in the middle of the long side. Immediately inside to the right was a small tree with many different trunks, clutched around one of the headstones that were sunken into the earth with the passing of 150 years. The brambles and weeds were as tall as I, and quite thick. At the end to my right was the large principal monument, and my goal was to clear out at least that far. I set to work at once, cutting the tree down as far as I could and removing all the trunks and branches. Every two feet along both the near and far side were small headstones of apparent descendants of the patriarch buried at the end. As I tackled the harsh, throny bramble bushes with the heavy leather riding gloves, the Lord began to show me some interesting things. One was how the subtle work of the adversary throughout the years had virtually overcome all the work of this little flock. As I saw this, I attacked the thorns with a vengeance, waging war against the works of the devil in the power of His might. What satisfaction it was to pull out by the roots the ugliness of sin and ineffectiveness and complacency and indifference! I also noticed how from one root there were many different branches that stretched out in so many dirrections, making whole areas impassable with their thorns. But I found that as I stooped close to the ground and got my hands around the base, they could actually be pulled up quite easily. I saw how similar it is with sin in our lives: when we don't deal with it at the source, it flourishes and contaminates many areas, but with the cleansing of acknowledgment and repentance, the freedon which Jesus already paid for can be ours.

When at last I got to the end, I was able to read the main headstone and found it to be of a man who had been the beloved pastor of the Baptist chapel in Newcastle Emlyn, about 10 miles away, for fifty years. He was buried around 1860 at 80 years of age, and I presume the other many stone were those ofhis wife, children, and perhaps grandchildren. I only managed to clear about 40% of the plot, but I did get all the brambles pulled up, and Mr. Williams said he could go after the rest with his strimmer (weed eater) and finish it easily. In spite of the cold and strong winds, I worked myself into quite a sweat. What a pleasure! After coffee and Welsh cakes with Mr. Williams and his wife, I thanked them for their kindness and openness to my presenced there, said I'd see them again the next time, and putted off into the oncoming rain as nightfall drew closer.

Thursday, October 24, 2002
After a 45 minute drive with Alex to Carmarthen, to the south, I said goodbye and boarded the train for London. As I rode along the rails again, it seemed hard to believe two weeks have gone by so fast! I was again filled with tremendous gratitude at the goodness of the Lord on my behalf. What an amazing time of inquiring into His temple, and finding His goodness and mercy at every turn.

I checked into my hotel by Paddington Station, and after a brief nap struck off walking towards Hyde Park to explore a bit of this huge city. One of the things I wanted to do was visit the Holy Trinity Brompton church, home of the Alpha Course. I had emailed them soon after my arrival telling them of my interest in attending one of their activities, and telling them the date I'd be in town, but I never heard back from them, and so had decided not to go. But halfway across the park, as I sat down to rest and pray a bit, I felt like I should go anyway, but I had left my map in the hotel. No matter, I thought, I'd go find a directory in a phone booth on the other side of the park and go for it. I had a map, and so figured I could make it by 7:30, a traditional starting time. I came out the other sie of Hyde Park in front of the Royal Albert Hall, and found a phone booth. There was no directory, but there was a fat wallet there instead. I found it had some cash, and lots of credit cards, and thought about the poor guy who lost it! So I stuck it into my pocket to examine later on and try to locate the owner.

After unsuccessful attempts to find just where the church was, I discovered on my map with the help of some security police that it was a long walk to a church marked Holy Trinity, and made of through the semi-lit strrets to find it. What a maze of winding streets and unclear signs. A good while later, exhausted and losing hope of covering what was probably close to a mile off still, a sat down on the fence of a large building on Brompton street to rest and figure out the best route from there. Then I got up to plod along and when I had walked not even a hundred feet, there was a big sign saying "Holy Trinity Brompton" right in front of me! Thank you Jesus! So I followed the arrows along a little lane and found myself in an empty parking lot. Just then a lady came along, and I asked her if she knew what activities there might be tonight, and she said there was an Alpha Course prayer meeting, and led me right to it! I was amazed once again at God's goodness!

Later on in my hotle, I went through the wallet, and found it belonged to a young man from Germany who must must be distraught by now. Trying to figure out how to contact him, I found his business card with a cell phone number and called him up. He was overjoyed to get my call, and said he'd meet me in the hotel restaurant around 10 o'clock. His name was Christian, and I had a great opportunity to share with him about the Lord. He said he was in fact a Christian, and attended a Catholic church. We talked for quite a long time. He is a product designer and had come to London for a job interview. When he asked me what brought me here, it opened the door to talk about revival, the work of the Holy Spirit, etc. He was very receptive, and I encouraged him to study the scriptures and seek to know the Lord intimately. What a blessed way to end the last evening of my "adventure" in the U.K!