Do you know Bill?
You are likely to have met him or at least heard of him if you are an IFM alumnus. He went on an amazing sixteen outreaches with us before his death.
An unassuming man, he would have been shocked to know how much he affected the people around him, or what a profound life view I gained from knowing him. While I’ve been here in Lebanon, I’ve thought of him often, and I realize that he is still influencing me.
Bill didn’t take his first outreach with us until he was later in years. He was a retired astrophysicist, a life-long bachelor, and he was also noticeably disabled.
Bill told us that he had been a pretty regular church attender, but with no real serious relationship with God. Then he had a stroke.
On his hospital bed with one whole side of his body weak and partially paralyzed, something changed in him. He never told us the details; he was a very quiet man. But he said later that he didn’t mind losing his favorite activities because of his disability. That life was over, and he had shed the things holding him back from God. We could see it too, the beauty of Christ in him in different ways throughout the rest of his life.
Bill started coming to our church prior to his stroke, brought by a family who had loved him for years. One Sunday after Bill had somewhat recovered, Joe and I were surprised when he hobbled up to us with a metal cane in one hand to steady himself, his other hand uselessly curled up against his body, and said, “I’d like to go on one of your mission trips to Mexico.”
Since IFM’s rallying cry was to welcome anyone called by God to go on an outreach who didn’t”fit” the usual ones, we said (maybe a little hesitantly), “Sure, Bill.”
He loved the outreach. It was not an easy week but he managed and without complaint, and he flourished being put in the middle of a team of young families.
He needed assistance with lots of things – meals, the bus, his room. The IFM staff helped some but mostly it was the team that cared for him. It was a beautiful thing to watch.
Bill ministered in Mexico with us and didn’t miss a thing, and I remember him smiling all week.
He spoke Spanish, but only knew technical terms that he had used when collaborating with other scientists in Spanish speaking countries. Explaining the humble little wordless book in Spanish was a stretch for him, but he tried.
Our days in the colonia were the most challenging for him. He walked with us, cane in hand, laboring to drag his bad leg along the uneven dirt roads and fields. But he conquered it, visiting the people in their homes. When we did the Bible clubs he sat in a folding chair, always with Mexicans hanging out with him. It was kind of a hoot. I don’t think any of them could understand a word he was saying – but he was undeterred. He just kept pleasantly chatting with them.
The Mexicans were really taken with him. They seemed touched and even honored that this man had traveled in his condition to visit them. We saw it on their faces everywhere we went.
That was trip #1. He went regularly after that – two or three times a year. He would light up when he talked about them. Those trips made a huge contribution to Bill’s sense of purpose and wellbeing.
But the big takeaway for me was seeing the fruit he bore in his weakness. Bill could never “do” much on the outreaches. His value to the teams was always that he just “was” on the outreaches.
We could see the converse relationship between his weakness and his effectiveness especially as he got more feeble. By his last outreach two team members had to hold him under his arms and literally carry/drag him almost everywhere we went in Mexico.
The teams he joined were more impacted by him as time went by. Caring for a sweet-spirited man with physical needs brought out the best in them. Every time. And the more unsteady he got, the more responsive the teams were. More softening of their hearts. More chipping together to help Bill.
His ministry in Mexico became more powerful too. When an elderly American man travels hundreds of miles to get to your colonia and is clearly uncomfortable and so weak he has to be carried to visit you, you are likely to pay attention to what he and his group have to say!
I’ve carried that beautiful insight from Bill’s life with me a long time now, but the last two years have put a new dimension to it.
Weakness. Vulnerability. No one’s favorite things… including me. I am thankful for the health the Lord has allowed me, but alas, I am a bit older, and I now carry the heart and label “widow”.
I knew God was telling me to go to Lebanon, and yet it was those strikes against me that caused me to hesitate. I went anyway, and last year when I showed up here in Beirut for the first time and started meeting refugees, I suddenly saw the same look in their eyes that I had seen in the Mexicans when they met Bill! That’s what reminded me of all this. The very same look!
I have delightfully discovered that those perceived limitations have been my most valuable assets in Lebanon. I have literally laughed out loud walking by myself in the ghetto thinking about this. God is so wise and amazing.
So take courage with your own weaknesses and limitations WHATEVER they are. Do not disqualify yourself from anything if you sense God’s leading or even warming in a certain direction Keep saying yes.
And thank you, Bill, for saying yes to God in the hospital and for the remainder of your days. I hope He shows you now how it rippled out way beyond your one fairly isolated life and brought Him such great glory.
But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” 2 Corinthians 12:9