Bud Mort's Life and Testimony

TRAVELLING DAYS

"I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who hath enabled me, for that he counted me faithful, putting me into the ministry; Who was before a blasphemer, and a persecutor, and injurious: but I obtained mercy, because I did it ignorantly in unbelief. And the grace of our Lord was exceeding abundant with faith and love which is in Christ Jesus. This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners; of whom I am chief" 1 Timothy 1:12-15 (KJV)

I was born and raised in the town of Neath in South Wales in the year 1925. In the preceding quarter of a century Wales had passed through two very different events which had left their mark on the church and nation, that is, the Welsh Revival in 1904-5, and the Great World War of 1914-18. During that time, the lives of my parents had been transformed, my mother converting to faith in Christ in the year 1917 through the ministry of Frank Joshua, whilst my father, fighting in the trenches in France, was wounded, and taken a prisoner of war.

By the time I was born, the third child of my parents, the sensational, and emotional effects of the Revival, whilst not forgotten, no longer affected people. The senseless slaughter of so many of the nation's sons in the Great War had served to justify the exodus from the chapel and church that had been revived by God. There were very few who proclaimed the doctrines of grace. One prominent evangelical minister having heard Dr Martyn Lloyd-Jones told him that he was like a man born out of due time. He began his ministry in Sandfields, Aberavon, five miles away from the place of my birth, when I was two years of age. Many within the non-conformist Chapel that my parents attended, had little knowledge, nor any theological discernment. Often they rode on the tide of emotionalism, with a worship that lacked any substance of the true gospel. The 1823 Confession of Faith of the Calvinistic Methodists was officially abandoned.

Itinerant preachers came on an annual rota to speak to ill-taught congregations. The themes were predictable. One might speak on the parable of the prodigal son, then two weeks later another would give their version of the same parable, and with what little grasp of truth they might have coloured the message. Again, while there were many sermons on the Old Testament types, I cannot remember ever hearing a sermon preached from the epistles of Paul. This was I believe, to do with a misconceived belief around at that time, that the letters of Paul were irrelevant to the gospels.

The rest of the teaching, was a mixture between Scofield's Dispensationalism and 'hell-fire' shouting, intending to encourage the fear of death and judgment, but its extremes and harsh spirit distracted people from balanced Biblical Christianity. Usually the messages were powerless and generalised over sin, with very little attempt to teach the truths of the incarnation, justification, sanctification, mortification, biblical terms which I never heard mentioned until I was past 30 years old. So, as Sinclair Ferguson says- "The food of God's word which builds Christians up in their faith is sometimes denied them, either because it is wrongly assumed that the only teaching necessary is the basic elements of the gospel and thereafter Christians can be left to their own devices, or because a premium is placed on experience, whether it be our own experience or the biographical experiences of others, rather than on the word of God" (Add to Your Faith page 5).

What characterised the services in the more conservative churches, were weekly 'Altar- calls' to come to the front and turn to Christ for salvation! The emphasis was more on man's ability and a human decision rather than the out working of God's sovereignty. The non-conformist services to which we were taken were the three Sunday services (afternoon Sunday School) and a meeting on most night's of the week, except Friday night. These were made up of Temperance, children's, choir or drama practice, coffee or social evening, and the Saturday night prayer meeting, where often people from other churches joined together. I truly enjoyed the prayer meetings when I was allowed to attend (and sit at the back), to hear the mixture of the Welsh and English accents, and the paradox of hearing such strong men and women humbly crying to Almighty God in a manner that contradicted their Arminian teaching. The prayer meetings used to go on until nearly Ten o'clock and were punctuated by various choruses that stimulated prayer.

My father's first language was Welsh, and he had returned home wounded from a prisoner of war camp, having spent some time in a hospital. During his time in the Army he had acquired a better grasp of the English language, than when he had married my Mother. But, my father was a 'man of his times' and showed very little emotion, and never spoke of the terrible experiences and horror that he went through in the trenches and as prisoner of war. On his return home he tried to find work without much success, so he joined the Royal Artillery reserves. By the time that I was born, my father, like the rest of my mother's relatives, had been brought to faith in Christ. He too was instructed in the new evangelism of Scofield's dispensational teaching.

If there was one regret that I will always have, it was that my mother would not allow the Welsh language to be spoken at home, and so my brothers and sister did not do not know a word in Welsh, (apart from a few well- known hymns and ditties).I often went to my Grandparents, and my uncle Dai Phillips (who played Rugby for Neath and Wales) and was more acquainted with the Welsh language, but my father would never speak it in my presence.

My father was a strict disciplinarian, yet with him being away so often in training and camps, he took very little interest in us children, so my mother had the major influence on the way the children were brought up. I can look back and give thanks to Almighty God for his providence in allowing me to be born into such a home. She taught us all to pray, and although she did not have a good singing voice, she was often found singing some old Ballads or a hymn during her housework. Her favourite hymn was, "Take time to be Holy, speak oft with thy Lord". Her Bible was always open on the table near the old Promise Box, where she would look and occasionally quote a verse to us. When my father was at home, she encouraged him to start the daily family altar before we went to bed, because we seldom saw him in the mornings. Yet, like everything else my father did, he gave orders more than instructed each of us. Even when I was about five years old, I had hoped that he would allow us to pray more freely, because by the time it came to my turn, I felt that there was nothing left to pray for as the others had exhausted everything.

I had been privileged to have been born with a very good memory, with a good speaking and singing voice, so that I was often asked to sing or recite at church and family gatherings. When the time arrived for me to attend school, I was sent to a different school than my brother and sister, to help me to progress, it was the St David's Church of England school, and I was encouraged to take part in singing, choirs, and the Scriptural exams. In this decision I can trace the providence and wisdom of God, because by the time I had reached the age of 11 years old, I had a good grasp of the Old testament, the Psalms and the New Testament.

My father's mood would change from time to time, while we would be unaware at the time that he was having nightmares. He ruled me with a rod of iron- it was a Draconian discipline - yet for some reason that strictness was not extended to my brothers and sister. I believe that he did love me, and longed for him to hug me, but I think that he was incapable of doing this. It seems that he was bent on instilling within me, the rule not to show any emotion, that, ‘It is not manly to cry; only weaklings cry', and 'never let your guard down.’

I can remember vividly at the age of six, marching behind him on a wet pavement by the chapel when I slipped and hit my left eye on the concrete corner of a house. It was to need six stitches, but I had got up and, holding the broken flesh back, marched behind him until I got home, then to hear my mother scream when she saw the blood. My father said, ‘Why didn't you tell me?’ To which I replied, 'You have told me never to cry’. Again, I saw the hand of God in this that I had been taught to endure a great deal of physical pain without complaining.

Yet for all this I was a total stranger to psychological, or mental suffering. The limbless and sightless men I encountered from time to time, were in my mind, the 'heroes' of the war. There was an old woman whom I often avoided, who had to hide her face because cancer had ravished it. There was still a lot for me to learn from life.

A DECISION FOR JESUS

I can remember at the age of eleven, (before I took the 'scholarship exams' as they were called then) when I was encouraged in the chapel on a Sunday afternoon with two other boys 'to give our hearts to Christ'. Yet, as I made the promise to follow Jesus, I was wholly unconscious of the need of repentance, or saw myself as a sinner, only that I had accepted what the Bible taught, that Jesus died for our sins. The whole family were delighted that another had 'found the Lord', and I can remember there being a fuss over this. I counted myself a good Christian, in comparison to those who went on charabang outings on a Sunday, or who never entered a place of worship except for festivals. With my singing in the choir and my knowledge of scripture, I was too righteous for my own good, that when a visiting missionary came and showed slides, I vowed that when I was old enough that I would go and help to save those poor people, not realising that I needed saving for myself. What I had experienced was more a change of my intentions than a change of heart.

I enjoyed my schooldays, and passed my exams, even when I had the bad tempered and well-known referee Albert Freethy as my teacher for two long years. He had the reputation in Wales for being the first referee to send off an All Black in the 1925 International Rugby match. Then with the drums of war sounding in 1938, my father pressurised my brother to take the army as a profession, 'to make a man of him’.

We later moved to Briton Ferry, where my Mother became a member of the Foursquare Gospel (now Elim) church. By this time literature, poetry, singing, taking part in plays, and sport had been my forte, and I sought to excel in every subject. Then the coming of the war changed not only millions of lives worldwide, but my own too, when in my late teens, I was to be placed in the furnace of affliction to learn some realities that I would have never discovered in any other way

REGAINING CONSCIOUSNESS IN HOSPITAL

One terrible day in my late teens, I found myself in unalleviated darkness of pain and confusion, for which little had prepared me. Following a serious accident that resulted in a brain haemorrhage which they termed Meningococele Meningitis, I was brought to death's door. The words of Job had been very familiar to me through the many sermons and funerals. ‘The Lord gives and the Lord has taken away, may the Lord be praise ’ (Job 1:21). But it was a very hard concept to accept while my body was suffering so much- to understand that truth, ‘Shall we not receive good from God, and not trouble?’(Job 2:10).

Yet although I could not see God while I lay suspended in the darkness of that hour, later I came to understand that he had not forsaken me, and that he had been besides me every step of the way in my despair and confusion, as he was when his own son was crucified and hung suspended between heaven and earth.

As I regained consciousness I did not know how long I had been in the hospital, nor could I remember anything of what had taken place to get me there. I had been very ill, and my father was sent for so that he returned home on compassionate leave. After I was rushed to the hospital, the Doctor gravely told my parents that I had only four hours to live. That, if my parents were desperate for me to live - and the doctor was uncertain of this- they would have to give consent to allowing him to give me an injection in my brain. They were actually experimenting with this drug, which later in 1952 was taken off the market. The Doctor warned them that the result could well be that I would become a virtual cabbage, deaf, or blind, or both, so that it could be wiser to leave me. It appears that my mother having spent some time in prayer, gave the consent to the injection. I lived, but the drug destroyed the residue of my hearing, and paralysed my speech for over four years.

My first awareness of my surroundings in the hospital, was on waking up, and feeling my body pulsating with pain, while my head seemed the size of a barrage balloon about to explode. There seemed to be searchlights, or lightening flashing across my brain. I felt as if I was bound hand and foot so that I could not move, with a weight pressing down on my chest restricting my movements. I found later that I was half encased in plaster. Figures floated past me from time to time, with a solitary figure in dark, which I found to be my father in uniform. Now and again I felt something cold on my lips, but I was still unaware that all residue of my hearing had gone, and my speech was impaired.

Sometime later I became conscious of searing pains tearing through my throat, that was overshadowed by the numb shock of seeing a figure in white holding card with the words, "You screamed, do you want water?" I thought this writing a message to me was ridiculous, but I became increasingly aware that I could hear no sound. I wondered whether I was having a nightmare, but I had to accept that the pains were a terrible reality. Some time later I was able to focus more clearly, but I still could not recognise the people who were bending over me, nor how I had come into such a condition. In fact, it still hurts to try and remember any events prior to my hospitalisation, and I can only vaguely remember the months that followed. I was fed through a drip, and given pain- killing injections while nurses would turn up with cards with requests on them I became aware of the screaming noises in my head, and yet the pain seemed to me to come from without. The words that were placed before me on cards would vary from day to day, "You have become profound deaf. You are unable to speak, because your speech is affected. It will take time to sit up and to walk." So on and on the days passed, and everything only added confusion to my grief.

I was absolutely bewildered, because I had no understanding of what had happened, what was happening, or why it had happened. I was only conscious of the intense pain and mental suffering. Yet the real problem was not that I was going through untold mental and physical suffering, but that it would be bearable if I could understand its meaning. Because at that precise moment, I could not reconcile my pain and confusion with the promise that was said to come from it.

Slowly I came to some self-understanding, and through the mists of pain I began to panic, and it began to hit me hard as to how my handicap would completely change the pattern of my life, and the hopes I had for the future. I battled with despair. My initial reaction was one of bitterness, and I wept in anger, while groping for an answer to questions about a hopeless future. How would all the compassion and support in the world be able to erase the reality that I would henceforth be classified ‘as handicap’- ‘a twp’ as they say colloquially in South Wales. I screamed, and screamed to God in my pain to help me, but he was remote and silent, so that I felt abandoned by him. I began to believe that I would be better off dead and that it would result in peace if my life ended then.

How was I going to cope? I thought I had known my strengths and weaknesses, but nothing had prepared me for this. I struggled with the faith I had been taught, trying to reconcile the teaching of my boyhood, "that suffering implied sinfulness, that God does not afflict his children, that he is a God of love, who is quick to respond in the day of trouble." Then if this were true, how could he have permitted this to happen to me? As I tried to find some means of alleviating my distress, nothing consoled me and life seemed so pointless, and I had once offered to spend my life working for God.

I did not have an understanding of the Sovereignty and Wisdom of an Almighty God. I had exclusively been told about the love and mercy of God, and little of his righteousness. My own worthiness before him, that I was living in rebellion before him and deserved nothing but death- was unfamiliar teaching. Without any concept of the divine justice I began increasingly to be sorry for myself. I had done nothing to deserve this fate. Terry Johnson in his paperback-How The Doctrines of Grace Change your Life- says, "From our point of view, much of the discussion of the ‘Problem of pain’ and suffering gets started on the wrong foot- -Adversity then is viewed as an unfair or unjust intrusion into the life of the one who is undeserving. Thus we regularly question, "Why would God have allowed this to happen to such a fine (and undeserving) family?" When Grace comes Home p 43

In my ignorance I was unaware that nowhere in the scriptures are Christians described as being exempt from suffering. Even Paul, the chief of Apostles was not exempt from pain, as he felt the reality of his 'thorn'.(2 Cor: 12.) The teaching of Jesus to the man born blind, was that neither he, nor his parents had done anything to warrant his handicap, but that somehow it would be to the glory of God. (John 9).

I was yet to learn more difficult lessons in my handicap. But while the wisdom of God, allowed me to be sifted, there was also that promise of Christ, that my faith would not fail. But, if anyone had tried to tell me this at that time, I would have laughed them to scorn. But God did it in such a way, that I did not see it at first. Samuel Rutherford says in one of his letters: "If God had told me some time ago that he was about to make me as happy as I could be in this world, and then had told me that he would begin by crippling me in my arm or limb, and removing me from all my usual sources of enjoyment, I should have thought it a very strange mode of accomplishing his purpose. And yet, how is his wisdom manifest in this! For if you should see a man shut up in a closed room, idolising a set of lamps and rejoicing in their light, and you wished to make him truly happy, you would begin by blowing out all his lamps, and then throw open the shutters to let in the light of heaven".

Yet such actions are within the paradoxes of the longsuffering and wisdom of God. He allowed me to become profoundly deaf, so that I would learn to rejoice in the music of his name through his spirit and his word in the inner ear of my heart. I was to know the God of all comfort, and the joy in sharing with others that grace that was manifested to me over the years. As Paul says in 2 Corinthians 1. 3-7. "Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion, and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows. If we are distressed, it is for your comfort and salvation, if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which produces in you patient endurance of the same sufferings."

I was to begin the long and hard journey down the road of obedience to Christ through suffering-

And work in me to will and do thy pleasure,
Let all within me, peaceful reconciled.
Tarry content my Well beloved's leisure.
At last, at last, even as a weaned child.

Amy Carmichael.

But I can honestly admit, that while I can say today with the Psalmist, "It was good for me to be afflicted- because, before I was afflicted I went astray, but now I have kept thy word" Psalm 119:67 & 71. God has worked out everything for my good so that I might be conformed to the likeness of his son (Romans 8;28). Yet, it was a bitter pill to swallow, at the time, and it has left many scars that still grieve me today.

THE STEPS OF RECOVERY

As the days progressed, I was able to sit up with support, but it did nothing to my confidence that the nurses, easily conversing with the other patients, neglected me to contend with the noises within and the inability to speak. There was also the unpleasant experience of having a face placed so close to my own, and a mouth opening and closing without a sound, trying to convey some message. I felt patronised and humiliated that it only increased my frustration and anger. To cap it all, my sense of esteem and security evaporated when I began to get use of my right arm, and I took a mirror to see my face. I could not recognise the gaunt skeleton features that stared back at me, the hair missing from half of my head. Again I was promised on a card that, like everything else, that it would be OK in time..

After the plaster was taken off, and I was given some sort of physiotherapy to increase movements to my arms and limbs, I was instructed to try and perform these exercises myself, but once, still a little confused, and on the assumption that I improved, (because some of the pain had receded from my arms and legs), I foolishly struggled to get my legs over the side of the bed to stand. I quickly found myself collapsing headlong and being revived some time later. Eventually it was with the aid of sticks, that I was able to drag my body along. The fainting fits receded slowly, but it was a struggle to walk across the room unaided.

The time came for me to be taken home, to a slow convalescence, to face a wall of silence, unable to communicate or walk properly so that I had to be carried around. In my misery I felt too ashamed to face the friends and neighbours, that I shut myself in my room to save embarrassment to others, and frustration for myself. This added to my resentment and depression, that I refused to co-operate with my family and friends. I believed that I would not be able to retain the vigorous life style I once enjoyed, that instead of a full life, there stretched before me a bleak existence. I felt that I would not be able to cope. The fact was, that my total deafness and the ability to speak were beginning to unnerve me, because during my past I had totally depended upon my ability to hear and speak. Helen Keller had confessed: "The problems of deafness are deeper and more complex than that of blindness, deafness is a much worse misfortune, for it means that the loss of the most vital stimulus, the sound of a voice that brings language, sets thoughts astir, and keeps us in the intellectual company of others".

Also, the abhorrence of my condition and the constant pains and noises were difficult to cope with. In my solitude I tried to read the Bible and other works to shed some light and obtain some relief, but I could not find the answers to what I was looking for immediately. Psalm 38 was a reality to me and I waited in vain for a reply, but, I was looking at it with the mind of the natural man. I realise, that I was being taught another valuable lesson, that it is impossible to know the deep things of God without the spirit of God. Who can understand how God works while man ignores the truth. My dashed hopes were caused by untaught faith, the misuse of verses from the Bible, and attempts to read into scripture for assurances that God had not sanctioned. Someone has said,- "You cannot manipulate God into any technique, it reduces God to a celestial vending machine-insert some praise- select right button- then get what you want".

The following months I was to get glimpses of what it meant to walk in darkness, to have no light, to be rejected, patronised, and even pitied by those who thought that my injuries had also affected my mental capabilities. Even by those who had known me well began to mouth words to me very slowly, and with vocabulary of a little child. There were many times that I would have like to escape from it all in some way or other. Now I understand, that God's grace was given in my weakness, in not allowing me to be tempted more than I could bear. "For you, O God, tested us, you refined us with silver, you brought us into prison and laid burdens on our backs. You let men ride over our heads, we went through fire and water, but, you brought us into a place of abundance." (Psalm 66;vv10-13)

My depression also stemmed from my ignorance of God's mercy and grace that made us in his own image. I foolishly thought that while I remained deaf, and unable to speak, that I was counted for nothing, or as someone told me later, 'only half a man', that I was only fit for the pool of rejects. I was yet to learn what Lily Trotter meant when she said. "God may use the things he has wrought in us, for the blessings of souls unknown by us- where individualism is forgotten- God only knows the endless possibilities that lie unfolded in each one of us." Job 23: 10) says. 'He knows the way I take, and when he has tested me, I shall come forth as gold".

I was now getting stronger, and with the help of friends my mother had me taken to the healing meetings of Stephen Jefferys in the Elim Four-Square Gospel Church. She believed that God would heal me from my deafness, speech impediment, and strengthen my limbs. I was very unclear about all this at that time. The only experience I had of healing, was when I was a young boy, I had heard a young woman I knew, professed to having her limp cured. Yet I saw one of my friends aged 14 years old die of consumption, although prayers had been offered for him. My mother attended the Elim Pentecostal church and strongly believed that Jesus would heal me, that it was not the will of God for me to suffer, that the Bible taught that if prayer is offered in faith in the name of the Lord, then God is bound to raise up the sick person, and so on. In my state of despair I clutched at each straw if it would enable my life to get back on an even course. But I myself did not know God.

I began to feel a little embarrassed, as a young man being carried down the aisle with the other sick folk and having Stephen Jefferys touching my ears and head with oil. He would pray (I noticed his mouth moving over each person,) and then his hands would press behind my head. It actually brought on the sound of drumming hoofs so that I nearly passed out. But I stuck out as I thought it might help me . Then I had to stand and to endure the inevitable passing out, and coming round with a glass of water pressed to my lips. These healing meetings went on for a long while and they served to drive me to greater despair. But my Mother and well-meaning friends exhorted me to stick it out, telling me that my faith would get stronger, until I finally protested that I was detesting this exhibition of being taken to one meeting after another. It was merely aggravating my loss.

Panic attacks would characterise many nights, with the strangled cries coming from my throat. I was longing to hear even my own voice. There were times when I was alone in the house, and suddenly the noises in my head ceased, and I became afraid. For although they were not human voices, the sounds actually gave me gave me some crumbs of comfort in that they focussed my attention, that although they irritated me occasionally, they had become a new found companion. In my desperation, I would then throw a saucepan on the floor, or a kitchen bowl- anything that would create a sound. Finally I would stagger outside to try and find someone or some sort of movement that would assure me that there was life, and that I was not dead. It was the most terrible feeling that I had ever experienced, as if I was suspended in a void, and deserted by everyone, just utterly alone in a world of silence that could be felt.

I longed to hear an assuring voice, or even the touch of a hand-"the touch of a vanished hand, and the sound of a voice that has stilled." At times it seemed as if I was clinging to a precipice by my finger tips, soon to plunge into an abyss of no return. I was so depressed that I believed that I had been brought to the place of self despair, a feeling of nothingness, with no reason to go on. It was only the grace of God that kept me sane, that he was still there, "Unseen yet for ever at hand", as he was when his son cried out in the loneliness of Calvary.

I was feeling that the world had turned against me, because although limbless and blind persons are prevented from doing certain things, I found that my deafness was cutting me off from people themselves. I was beginning to lip read very slowly. The problem was that people spoke too fast, or I was unable to respond back to them, which caused more heartache and misunderstanding. It is true that we learn more through our ears than through our eyes. Also, people became impatient too quickly, because they could not see any visible handicap, other than my stammering tongue and my limp, so that after a while, they began to look around for ways of avoiding me.

I went deeper into my depression as my world was collapsing around me. Who could I turn to? The hopelessness, the loss and rejection, reading pity in the faces of people, with the physical pain, all served to overwhelm me. My misery fast became the focal point of my life. I found myself entering a pit, losing any faith that I possessed, complaining to whoever would hear me, that "a little talk with Jesus" never made things turn out right. The pendulum swung back and fore and there many times that I felt like Jeremiah, "I have been deprived of peace, I have forgotten what happiness is, my splendour has gone and all I had hoped from the Lord."

During this time of darkness and depression, the teaching and discipline of my father came to me. I believe that it had been used in the providence of God to instil in me the resolution not to give way, for he taught me not to quit, but act like a man. In spite of terrible pain I exercised my legs and arms, (there being no physiotherapists at that time) I tried to remember the ways I trained in sport and boxing, and after months I was able to walk without sticks, and even run a few strides. Increasingly I kept more to myself, because I could not separate the laughter of my friends and family from ridicule of myself, often seething with misery but longing to join in. Also, although I was learning some new words, I could not determine whether people were discussing me, or another subject. For in laughter the shape of lips move too fast to be understood.

Then my life began to change in the shape of a young man. His name was John Thompson who had studied at Elim Bible college before coming to Neath as an assistant pastor. At first I was a little wary when he called, expecting him to preach or try and coax me to attend services and healing. To my surprise, he went out of his way to encourage me to make use of my vocal chords. He painstakingly wrote on note pads, and helped me when I struggled to read lips, or make sounds. Nothing was too much trouble for him, yet I did not recognise at that time that God was answering my prayers.

He was a very patient friend who accepted my anger and made me laugh for the first time in many months and to relax again. I always had a sense of peace and security when he came around, for he made me feel accepted, and to forget my handicap. I was slowly learning some valuable lessons. One was that he never imposed upon me any regimen of goals to struggle towards but that he helped me to overcome the difficult tasks. Secondly, he did not take on too much responsibility for my happiness, but was always preparing me for the time when he would have to go away so that I would be able to cope on my own. I responded to his kindness by going along to services at Elim, but only because he was there, as I had lost all interest in the things of God. He also introduced me to a young woman name Lucy Thomas who came from a Salvation Army background(she later married an American Air Force chaplain). It was she who began to teach me to communicate the Deaf Manual alphabet and to improve my lip-reading.

It was a very sad day when John Thompson finally went. Sadly I never met him again, but I believe in him I had been entertaining an angel without knowing it. He had taught me a simple but invaluable lesson concerning the patience of God, the importance of drawing alongside someone in their time of need without imposing upon them, just to be there, to listen and to care. (cf. Luke 10. 25-37) Again, through the love and companionship of that young pastor, God had provided a way out, so that I began to bear my trial and it helped to bring me through those first crises. (1 Cor .10:13).

Finally the Second World War came to an end, and my body, although half of its former weight was getting stronger. So I made a resolution to get away from everybody I knew, and I applied for rehabilitation with other servicemen, working alongside German prisoners of war on the land in Pembrokeshire. Yet unconsciously, still running from The Hound of Heaven.
I fled him down the nights, and down the days,
I fled him down the arches of the years.
I fled him down the labyrinthine ways,
Of my own mind, and in the midst of tears,
I hid from him, and under running water;
Up vistaed hopes I sped and shot precipitated.
Adown titanic glooms of chasmed fear.
From those strong feet that followed, followed after..

The Hound Of Heaven (Francis Thompson)

Yet there was another incident at time which I now see as the providential care and protection from God. With my legs a little stronger I foolishly decided to strengthen my muscles by going for a swim in the old canal near the river, I had always been a strong swimmer, and had no fears as I climbed up to the bridge parapet. As I climbed, I noticed another man swimming further down the canal. I dived, but found to my horror that as I hit the water that I had lost control over the lower part of my body. In my desperation I tried to tread water, but began to spin and spin until I lost consciousness until I woke up on the bank with a man pumping water out of me. He was a boxer who lived near me, and when he saw me dive in and not coming to the surface he had got a little concerned and dived in to save me. He knew of my injuries, so the word got round that I intended doing myself some harm, which was further from my mind, (and in my swimming shorts!). But another valuable lesson had been drilled in, not to judge so quickly at similar circumstances.

When I arrived in Pembrokeshire, I joined the ex-service men and women who were recovering from their many traumas. Some were returning from the war with no family to go back too, while others were adjusting to civilian life after the terrible experiences which they had endured. To my relief I found that I was accepted at once among them as 'normal'. As the old army lorry wended its way to where we would camp, they even encouraged me to join in (with my strangled notes) the old familiar songs that were often sung on such journeys. "The White Cliffs of Dover- I'll Walk beside you.- Smoke gets in your eyes" etc. All my embarrassment and fears began to dissolve as I worked alongside them and played on the beach. They watched and encouraged me to swim even to using my voice more, then to accept some work responsibility. I even attended the church services with them. But sadly, and to my everlasting shame, it was then that I was tempted to take my first drink of alcohol, a very strong cider, which I suffered from for days.

Slowly my body began to develop through the work in the sun and the fitness training. I had made many friends who had helped me to recover before they left to go back home. Yet I was still profound deaf, suffering from Tinnitus and struggling to muster a little conversation. But my lip-reading skills had improved, and I attained a self confidence that had been missing for a long while. More importantly, I was beginning to accept the way I was.

So I did not hesitate when a letter came to offer me work in ship breaking and salvage. Yet it was a decision, which to my sorrow would lead me down a path that I am still too ashamed to speak about, that left scars that still haunt me from time to time. (Psalm 51:3-4). It is only now that I can trace the sovereignty of God in the "Footsteps that followed after" even there.
In the rash lustihead of my young powers,
I shook the pillaring hours
And pulled my life upon me, grimed with smears,
I stand amid the dust o' the mounded years-
My mangled youth lies dead beneath the heap.
My days have crackled and gone up in smoke.
Have puffed and burst as sun-starts on a stream.

When I began the job, I became aware that everyone without exception, from the yard manager down to the yard-ganger was enormously helpful. They took no notice nor showed any embarrassement at my stammering tongue, which helped me slot into that team of men. It was a dangerous job, yet their attitude instilled a confidence in me to attempt the tasks that they were doing, even to handle some of them on my own until I was finally given the vote of confidence by the 'Gaffer' to take responsibility over others.

The men I worked with were not the type who spoke much, nor liked to have their peculiarities recorded, or to have judgements passed about the way they thought or acted. Their conversations came in small snatches about their work, the union and life around their families, so slowly I began to lose interest in the things I once cherished. Yet true to their kind, those men never left me out of any decision, nor activity because I was deaf. I can vividly remember the time when the team had to go to London, and during a break one evening they were asked to create a ‘Welsh night’ and sing a few songs. When the time came, my closest friend (who later was to be killed), knew that I would have stuck out like a sore thumb among the English people they were entertaining, and so he dragged me up on the rostrum and told me, "Bud, watch my lips and mime with us whatever we sing". I became the first deaf man that sung Calon Lan and other pieces in the makeshift Welsh choir.

During that period in my life, I saw many of those friends killed, blown apart, crushed, or burnt, but apart from a few cuts and broken bones I came through that time unscathed. I will always be grateful for that struggle to get accepted, for the support and sincerity of those 'comforters', because I believe that those non- Christians were used by God to further his purposes in my life, and were drawn up into those things that God worked for my good. Even in the death of Jesus Christ, where evil seemed to be in control, God used the anonymous to fulfil his purposes, as Peter concluded in Acts 2.23. "This man was handed over to you by God's set purpose and foreknowledge; and you with the help of wicked men, put him to death, by nailing him to the cross ."

It has helped me to understand that nothing escapes the Omnipotent purposes of God for his people. None of the circumstances of my life took God by surprise, as he used everything for my good, and his own glory (2 Corinthians 1. 3-11). This has been an amazing truth which has become my great support in other difficult times ever since, helping me to respond to suffering, temptation, trials and false accusations. C.S. Lewis says. "Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you understand what he is doing. He is getting the drains right, and stopping the leaks in the roof, and so on; you know that there jobs needed doing, and so you are not surprised. But presently he starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make sense. What on earth is he up to? The explanation is that he is building a quite different house from the one you thought of- throwing up a wing here, putting up an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were going to be made into a decent little cottage; but he is building a palace. He in tends to come and live in it himself ". Mere Christianity p 172

By the end of the decade I had become proficient in lip-reading, and my voice, although not back to its original quality, was strong enough to carry on a full conversation. I had taken up climbing and got involved in sport aiming for total fitness, which I foolishly considered to be the apex of manhood. It was only the death of some friends, and the fact that most of the ships from the war had been salvaged made me restless to move on. Yet much of my resentment at being a handicap person (or a twp) had disappeared as I learned to adjust living in a silent world. I had also re-discovered the joy of reading.

It was then the providence of God moved the young new manager of the dock to ask me to help him to build his house in the evenings and week ends, then to invite me to his wedding- in which I had no interest- but was pressured to attend it.
‘Still with unhurrying pace and unperturb-ed pace,
Deliberate speed, majestic instancy-
Came the following feet–’

When I arrived at the church, I came face to face with the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, whom God had designed to be my helpmate for life. She was arrayed in a blue bridesmaid's gown, and although I could not hear her voice when she sung at the reception, I imagined it to be the sweetest sound ever. I stood captivated and wondered how such a person like me could think of speaking to her, let alone asking her if she would come out with me. But, I took courage and did so, and it was no surprise to find that she did not see my deafness a handicap.

Phyllis came from a strong Roman Catholic family, but to my state of mind at that time it mattered very little that whatever her faith appeared to be. My life began to take on a new perspective, when with the help of God's grace this caring patient woman began to re-shape my life, that I knew that I was being loved and cared for with an intensity I had never known before. At once she took it in hand to correct my pronunciation and vocabulary, commented about the radio news, wrote painstakingly in all meetings we were to attend, and included me in conversations when we were in the company of others.

The Lord first blessed our wedding with the birth of our son Andrew. Then eighteen months later when Phyl was carrying our daughter she had a longing to attend a place of worship, because she had not been accepted into the Roman Catholic church since our marriage. My mother who attended the Elim Church, invited Phyllis to attend services with her. Then four months before the birth of our daughter Linda, she came home from church and dropped a bombshell. "Bud", she said, "I have given my heart to Jesus Christ. The Lord has saved me"

Now while I still had nothing to do with church or religion, I loved my wife and family and I would do nothing to hinder her. But neither was I in the position to help her so I was a little reluctant to get involved. I had also believed that I was past the pale for mercy.

We were living in a caravan at the time, and although we were excited with the birth of another child, we realised that we should look for another place. Two months later an enormous blow fell on us, and what little faith I possessed took another nose-dive as the props were knocked from under me by the birth of our daughter Linda. We found that she could not be brought home from the hospital with Phyllis, and kept in the dark by the Hospital authorities for the actual reason. It was not for a few weeks that we were told what had happened. It appears that there had been complications at Linda's birth in the hospital, which resulted in her being born brain damaged, and with little if any, retention of her sight.

I was overwhelmed by it all. Although my life had been transformed since marrying Phyllis, I was devastated at this fearful providence. I was physically strong, but I was still mentally crippled by my emotional and spiritual failures of the past, and I could not understand why God's hand was so heavy upon us. I was also concerned that Phyllis had another handicapped person to care for. The doubts again filled my heart. Why had God allowed these things to happen to me? Was I not to have any joy in my life but to be constantly reminded of my handicap and past grief? What else was God going to do? Was he going to take away the only morsel of love and joy that I had begun to find and destroy every hope for the future? Sinclair Ferguson says, " Satan was living up to his title- and 'ambushing' Job (myself- my insertion) from a place so well hidden that Job and his friends mistook his activity for that of God. What was Satan's purpose in all this? It was to twist the heart of Paul from the love of his Lord, just has it was to drive the hapless Job (myself) from the comforts of God's presence. How nearly he succeeded in Job's case:-

'Surely, O God, you have worn me out:
You have devastated my entire household.
You have bound me- and it has become my witness;
My gauntness rises up and testifies against me.
God assails me and tears me in his anger
and gnashes his teeth his teeth at me...
All was well with me, but he shattered me;
He seized me by the neck and crushed me.
He has made me his target'.

Like another saint in the old dispensation, he felt that God had 'taken me up and thrown me aside' (Psalm 102;10). But the truth of the matter was that it was not God who had done all this, and by his deceitful disguise, all the hatred which should have been directed towards Satan, was beginning to turn upon Job's only refuge. We cannot doubt that the same demonic strategy was at work in Paul's experience' . (Add to Your Faith . pp 122-3)

Although I was not aware of this at the time, I was to discover a new dimension, a new insight in the sovereignty and grace of God, that he would strip me further and to break the hard self-sufficiency to which I still clung, until I would find myself entirely helpless before him. I was also to witness the quiet submission to the will of God that Phyl manifested at that time. For although she had always been patient and loving, these graces were transformed since she had come to faith in Christ as her Saviour. That while others in the past had been allowed to draw near to me, in an attempt to help me to take my place in society, Phyl began to make me face up to my past failures and self pity with honesty.

When we received the news of our new daughter Linda, I found to my shame, that after Phyllis had cried for a while at the news, she turned to me and said. "Bud, I do not know what is happening, but one thing that I am sure of, is that God will bring good out of this." This to my amazement was her powerful confession of trust in God, and that after only being a few months in that faith, while I had been surrounded with it since a child! I was to witness her strength and love more than this. For while caring for our son and myself, she had to carry our daughter Linda, bound to her to her body, twenty four hours a day. (Because of the pressure in her head, Linda could not lie down, which would cause extreme pain. I only took a few turns in carrying our daughter when I was at home.) If one should have asked Phyllis what she thought of a God who would allow such an event to take place only a few months after committing her life to him, she would have said, that she never could have coped with the situation without him.

I remained confused at times, yet I began to draw comfort from the faith of Phyllis to such a degree I had never experienced before. I longed to take the burdens from her shoulders, but it was through these months that the compassion of Christ was continuing my healing, not of my sensory or physical disabilities, nor anything ephemeral, but the healing of my resentment and pain where it had hurt most. It was a healing that helped me to come to terms with the situation, and so little by little my defences against God and his providence began to crumble into the dust.

While I was not given the answers at that time (John 13:7) I felt that the birth of Linda had brought Phyllis and I closer together, because I saw in her the grace of submission to the good and acceptable and perfect will of God for our lives. As I sought to bear Phyllis' burdens, I became increasingly aware that I myself had immense needs to be met. God's purposes were continuing to fit together, as he continued his process of making me weak to depend upon the strength of others, so that I might later be equipped through his grace to do the same. God was changing the rooms. E. Elliot says." So God fits us with exquisite precision, each according to his vocation, for the place He wants to occupy. The Apostle Paul uses the metaphor of a building, the cornerstone being Christ Jesus himself. In him, each separate piece of building, properly fitting into its neighbour, grows together in a temple consecrated to the Lord. You are all part of this building in which God himself lives by his spirit" (Eph 2:20-22. JBP)

A Path Through Suffering. p 123

A CHANGE OF WORK

Eventually I began to get restless, restless for a change from my work with the departure and even the deaths of some of my friends, and the running down of the ship-salvaging business. Also I had been given family responsibilities, so I no longer sought the company of my old friends in their haunts. I began to feel that it was time to be moving on. Yet although Phyllis attended chapel as often as she could, I was not in the rush to commit myself in that way, but I patiently listened to her comments on what she had been taught in church yet not seeing myself as a sinner in need of saving.

Providence took another hand when my brother found me a job in a bakery. I did not jump at it at once, because it would be difficult working in such heat after being exposed to the elements for over a decade. Yet I was moved to take it because it would give me some more time with my family. During the time I learned the trade I lost two stone through the heat of the bake-house, but I did qualify and was offered promotion to a bakery in Aberystwyth on the coast of mid- Wales. The attraction was that a large flat over the bake-house with three bedrooms went with the job, the draw-back would be the continual night shift (six a week). I accepted it, for though it would curtail the hours that I would be free, it provided a stable home for the family from the six-berth caravan with room for Linda to develop. Yet I was still a stranger to the mysterious ways of God in his sovereignty and mercy, and the way that he was dealing with me so that I would confront my sin, and himself.

I went to Aberystwyth ahead of Phyllis and the children for about four months, to see if it would work out for me and the family, and to give me some time to prepare the way in refurbishing the flat. During that time Phyl made me promise to look around for an evangelical church where she could be able to worship.

I did not find it easy to settle, because I found my first absence from my family demanding, and trying to adjust to a small town bakery and new friends. So I took every offer of a lift on the bakery van from Cardiff, so that I could go home on the week end. During the weekends Phyllis would continue to remind me to look for a place of worship. So during the evenings of the following week I began to scout around the town for the churches, but the notice boards outside the churches did not tell me much of what went on inside. So I played for safety and found the location of the little Elim Chapel, taking note of the times of services. But Phyllis would not settle for my being in Aberystwyth and not attending the place of worship to get some details, so she continued to pressurise me to attend a Sunday service. Because I was still reluctant and uneasy I did not do this at once, for apart from weddings and funerals, it had been a very long time since I attended church. Yet Phyllis continued to pressurise me to attend a Sunday Evening service before I went to work to find out about the worship.

I ATTEND CHURCH!

Finally I took the plunge, but left it until it was nearly time for the service to start before going inside. The building was very small and quite full, with about 35-50 older people and students. At once a tall, kindly man approached me, who I found to be the pastor Andrew Birchall. After welcoming me, he enquired if I was alone and from Aberystwyth. I felt a little uncomfortable, I did not wish to be too friendly as I explained my hearing loss and that Phyllis would soon be moving to Aberystwyth with the children to worship. At once he said "Praise the Lord." So I told him to hang on, because I did not want him to have the wrong impression about me that I was a believer, that I would like to sit alone at the back. But he spoke to a man who came and sat beside me to show me the hymns and the scripture reading.

It was when the old familiar hymns were being sung, that I glanced around and noticed in the faces of many a joy and that reflected their assurance and peace in believing Jesus Christ. I had often seen that same joy reflected on my mother's face, and on Phyllis. I found the worship conservative for a Pentecostal church, more in line with the way my mother worshipped. I could not follow the preaching because I would not look directly at the Pastor. But as I read the old familiar words of the hymns, it took me back to my childhood and stirred up emotions that I had thought long dead, and it made me so uncomfortable that I would have walked out but for the man blocking my way.

On the way out the pastor wanted to speak to me, but I thanked him and made excuses that I was working the night shift, resolving not to attend again as I felt that I had kept my promise to my wife. But I could not block out the memory of that service during the bakery shift. I found myself struggling within, as if I was pulled one way then another, with my mind going back to my childhood and the happy memories of the family altar, my mother praying and hearing the tunes of the old hymns. To my surprise I found myself experiencing a new kind of hunger, a longing that I had known for a long, long time, a longing to have peace, and strangely to be accepted. But my mind began to race, "to be accepted to what’? I pushed it away as weak subjective emotions. But the striving's would not cease, so I began to make excuses to go back to the little church to make it doubly sure that it was the right place for Phyl. The following Sunday I crept in as late as possible, but came under the conviction that I wanted to speak to the pastor, but like a coward I rushed out as soon as the service was over.

During the coming weeks I struggled to find peace, finding my emotions battling with one thing, then another. A verse of a hymn portrays it.

Down in the human heart, crushed by the tempter,
Feelings lie buried, that grace can restore.
Touched by a loving heart, wakened by kindness,
Chords that are broken will vibrate once More.'

(Rescue the Perishing) . Fanny J Crosby.

One inescapable reality was a very good memory, that I had been well taught in Scriptures as a boy with the promises of forgiveness, peace and joy in Jesus Christ. Yet, on the other side of the scale I knew the Scripture verses that seemed to condemn me without hope. "It is impossible for those who have once been enlightened, who have tasted the heavenly gift, who have shared in the Holy Spirit, who have tasted the goodness of the word of God, and the powers of the coming age, if they fall away, to be brought back to repentance, because to their loss they are crucifying the Son of God all over again and subjecting him to public disgrace." Hebrews 6:4-6. 10:26-29- 2 Peter2:15- 1 John 2:19.

I was so familiar with the story of the Prodigal son, but I kept saying to myself. "Ah that was him, but he never went to such depths as you." So while in one breath I cried for inner acceptance and peace, in another I was condemning myself for being so chicken-hearted and weak. Then another voice seemed to say, "How could you cope with it all? You are too far from God, there is no way back". Then all my past sinfulness would flash before me and my pain became unbearable. But another voice was prompting me to ask and seek and knock.

My workmates thought that I was grieving and missing my family, which I was, but I was too chicken-hearted to say that it was not the problem. During the next few days I could not sleep, and thought of paying the pastor a visit, if only for him to confirm my loss. But it was delayed when I went home again that weekend, and although I never mentioned anything of my inner conflicts to Phyllis, she was aware of my spiritual battle, but did not seek to pressurise me.

My freshness spent is wavering shower in the dust;
And now my heart is as a broken fount
Wherein tear- drippings stagnate, split down ever.
From the dark thoughts that shiver
Upon the sighful branches of my mind.
Such is. What is it to be?
The pulp so bitter, how shall taste the rind?
I dimly guess what time in mists confounds.

'Now of that long pursuit
Comes on at hand the brute
That voice is round me like a bursting sea,
'And is thy earth so marred
Shattered in shard and shard.
Lo, all things fly thee, for thou fliest me"

'The Hound of Heaven'

During the following Tuesday evening, I intended going to the club before work when I found myself 'propelled', if that is the right word, by some inner compulsion to make a detour past the little Elim chapel, then to find myself as if in a dream going in and to sit at the back.

From the heart beneath, as if, God speeding me,
I entered the church door, nature leading me.
In youth I looked to these very skies,
And probing their immensities.
I found God there, his visible power;
Yet felt in my heart, amid all its senses
Of the Power, and equal evidence
That his love, there too, was the nobler dower-

Christmas Eve, R Browning.

There were a few people present and a prayer meeting was in process. I was glad that no one approached me, because my heart was in a ferment as I bowed my head, I did not know for how long only to lift it later to find the place empty, and the kind Pastor waiting across the room asking me whether he could help.

That night will always be engraved on my heart. I vividly remember crying back to him. "If only you could, because I feel that I have sinned so much against God, and light, that no one can help me to find a way out." Then with a patience that I had also seen in Phyl he began to speak slowly to me. And what transpired next is far too difficult to put into words- and I do not wish to make light of it either-in the way that the power of God visits the heart- nor would I wish to dismiss it. Yet even now as I try to record it I am overwhelmed with emotion, as I recall the time when God's grace melted my stubborn heart down to submission, by his immeasurable love and mercy. But the experience at that time-

Halts by me that footfall;
Is my gloom after all.
Shade of His hand outstretched caressingly?
Ah, fondest, blindest, weakest,
I am He whom thou seekest!
Thou dravest love from thee, who dravest me?

The Hound of Heaven.

I felt that the "Dungeons blazed with light"- as I the hard man, found myself weeping. I cried in sorrow for what I had been, and for a joy, peace and cleansing power that I had never experienced before - as "The grace of our Lord was poured out on me abundantly, along with faith and love that are in Christ Jesus." (1 Tim.1: 12-14) I had arrived at last to the point in my desperation, to find that there was no remedy for my sin apart from Jesus Christ. That although I had the love and support of my family, my life would still be futile without God's grace. Yes, at that time, I "heard " the Saviour's loving voice calling me. (Matt 11:28-30), that healed me of my spiritual blindness and hearing loss.

I heard the voice of Jesus say,
I am this world's dark light;
Look unto me , thy morn shall rise,
And all thy day be bright.
I looked to Jesus and I found,
In him my Star my Sun,
And in that light of life I'll walk
Till travelling days are done.

Yes, it was wonderfully true that;-
O joyous hour when God to me,
A vision gave of Calvary!
My bonds were loosed, my soul unbound,
I sang upon redemption ground.

Redemption ground, the ground of peace!,
Redemption ground, O wondrous grace!
Here let our Praise to God abound,.
Who saves us on redemption ground!

El Nathan

I stumbled back to my lodgings to change for the night shift, yet feeling as if I was walking on air. But I had no desire to eat or talk with anyone and worked through that night shift as if in a dream. During the week, the old familiar hymns so full of truth and doctrine, which were once to me items to sing in worship, became a living reality in spirit and in truth.

And can it be, that I should gain,
An interest in the Saviour's blood?
Amazing Love , how can it be
That thou my God shouldst die for me?
Tis mercy all immense and free-
For O my God, it found out me!

In wonder lost with trembling Joy,
We take our pardon of our God.
Pardon for crimes of deepest dye,
A pardon bought by Jesu's blood
Who is a pardoning God like Thee?
Or who has grace so full and free?

During the following weeks I was to be faced by my vulnerability when the enemy came in like a flood . For in spite of that wonderful experience on that Sunday night and the false confidence in my own abilities, I was not making much progress in the cold light of day. My moods were sometimes dark, sometimes depressing. The voice of the temper was very strong, filling my mind with my past sins and my path with many temptations and obstacles, jeering within that I began to have doubts. "How can you be a child of God with such thoughts, where is the cleansing now? Where is the blessedness? Why haven't the 'old things passed away, and all things become new?"

I realised that I was still a babe in scriptural knowledge. For although I could rejoice in many of the precious promises of God, the truth of his forgiving grace, that his son "loved me and gave himself for me," I was still so confused as I still struggled with inner sin and corruption. I knew nothing of the great doctrines of grace and was confused as to what Sanctification, Mortification, the Sovereignty of God and Predestination meant. I was still ignorant of the teaching, "That the seed of every sin will remain in our hearts, that while it may not reign, it is only kept subdued through grace". (Romans 6) The only knowledge I possessed was based on the Arminian teaching given to me in my youth.

Those in work saw the change, the change from a noisy teasing man to one of bouts of silence. They joked that my freedom was coming to end because the wife was on the way, and strong as I was physically, I was too chicken-hearted to tell them the truth. Again, although I had become reformed in character in many ways after I had met and married Phyllis, yet I had not been changed within. So I continued to struggle against inner passions and moods and what had happened to me?

The Providence of God took another turn when I was given two books by Andrew Birchall. A Brand Plucked from the Burning, and Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners by John Bunyan. The authors of these books spoke of their conflicting doubts and darkness and helped me to understand the nature of the true convert. Another thing, apart from my lack of knowledge of the great doctrines of the scriptures, I felt to be in a difficult position because of my hearing impairment. That while I had now come to the position of being able to carry on a long and intelligible conversation with others, it would be nigh impossible to be taught from the pulpit if I had to rely on my ability to lip-read from a pew for the development of my Christian life. I also found myself deluded by some of the testimonies that I had been told or read where 'instant satisfaction and holiness' came at the drop of the hat at conversion as easy as I had expected. So my spiritual life spun like a 'Yo-Yo' for the next few weeks.

The time came for me to sell our caravan (which was a new one, and eight-berth) and to bring Phyl and the children to Aberystwyth. I found that the presence of Phyl and the children gave the grace to resolve to make a stand, because I could not carry on as I was. So casting myself on the mercy of the Lord, I went nakedly to the Scriptures, which by then were my only source of instruction and power, in a way that I had not known as a youth. And I can remember vividly when the power of temptation came upon me strongly, that the Lord spoke to my heart. "You are of God and have overcome them, because the one who is in you is greater than the one in the world" (1 John 4:4) Later I was encouraged to take my Bible to work when I read Mark 5:1-12 " Go tell -how much the Lord has done for you, and how he has mercy on you, so the man went".

Two of the bakery workers attended a liberal church occasionally, and believed themselves to be devout Christians, and although their manner of speech and life denied this, they would have been angry if you questioned their Christianity in front of them. So I called all the workmen into the rest room, and being in charge of the work, they thought I had shift news for them, and they were taken a little aback when I told them that I had given my life to Christ, and the reason for my manner during the past few weeks, and why I had made the commitment. There was silence for a while, some thought that I was 'tanked' up and taking the mickey out of them, while another thought it a great joke. But when I explained that I was serious, the 'churchmen' said I was going too far, because they thought that I was condemning them. Then when they began to ask some hard biblical questions, I was unable to answer, but like the blind man in John 9 :11, I could say " One thing I know that once I was blind, but now I can see."

This showed up my deficiency in scriptural knowledge, so I went nakedly to the Bible more and more, 'to learn the mind of God in it'. But as J. Owen admits, 'that what we account our wisdom and learning may, if too rigorously attended, be our folly; when we think to sharpen the reason of scripture we may straighten the efficiency of it'. To my dismay, there was very little to read, or study on the Elim bookshelf, and that they were mostly of Arminian tendencies, or 'the higher victories life', which at that time, fascinated me more than helped me. By this time our daughter Linda had been to East Grinstead hospital where a surgeon had lifted the pressure on her eyes, which enabled her to sit up in a pushchair. So, the two children accompanied us to Sunday morning services. But it meant, that because Linda needed constant attention at the back of the church, I had to sit with my four-year- old young son Andrew, that while trying to teach him to respect the services, it often distracted me from what was being said in the pulpit. Then Andrew (the pastor) gave me a book of sermons by C. H. Spurgeon, which I found difficult to digest at first, he also invited me to the Tuesday Bible study in another person's home, but it did not profit me much because it was often left to each individual to say what they thought of 'such and such' a passage. So, I became impatient to do something.

There was another godly man in the church who was the head deacon, his name was the late Sid Bowen, who was then the principle of the Further Education college in town, and like myself he had come from S. Wales. He had a great spiritual wisdom and a humility that was reflected in all he did and wherever he went. He began to encourage me and painstakingly speak to me, showing and leading me in the deep things of God. And although he was an emotional man, he never paraded that emotion in services as to gain attention, nor did he seek to be the first in everything.

Often he would teach with a clarity from the scriptures to the young Christian students, and ensured that I was included in every discussion, taking no notice of my stammering tongue in comparison with their refined voices. Then he encouraged me by putting my name forward as a deacon, and with the Pastor, he encouraged me to 'say a word' (which is the norm in Pentecostal churches). Sid Bowen was well taught in the scriptures, and his theological understanding was strong, and he was a ready preacher in the open air, always commending one's attention to Jesus Christ. It was from him that I heard the doctrines of grace for the first time. I will always hold these godly men in high esteem for their holiness of heart and not just for their usefulness. And to be thankful that God gives different gifts to men, and for those places where the ministry is still energetically used by God to his glory.

I now began to take an active part in the church, but one thing that still tested me, was to pray in public, because I had not ‘heard' anyone pray, or speak for nigh on twenty years. Also, I was too embarrassed to stand up to pray when another sat down, for often two or three prayed together, and I believed that I would be braying compared to them, or interrupting. So while I regularly attended the prayer meeting before going to work, I remained quite and prayed to myself. In this way the Lord was teaching the need of patience, because I was becoming a little envious (not jealous) of watching others so busy in the Lord's work. To be truthful, I was still too impulsive and wished to be 'up and doing something' . I was still arrogant and blind to many faults.

I was still to learn a lesson and the wisdom of what W.M. Taylor says. "The tendency of much that is said nowadays is to make one dissatisfied with himself not to be engaged, in one way or other of the common departments of ecclesiastical work. Now, it is good to have a church which will realise John Wesley's idea, 'at work, all at work, and always at work'. But it is not good to advocate this in such a way as shall wound those who, because of the limiting condition in their lives, cannot respond to the call as, in other circumstances they would. I have known a gentle heart well-nigh broken because a minister, more remarkable for zeal than wisdom, almost as good as declared that those who were connected to his church, and who did not engage in a certain kind of work, were unworthy to be called Christians. But if he had only known it, the truth was that the quiet one whom he had almost crushed was every day doing a kind of service for Christ which required far more self- denial than that which the preacher would have summoned her, and one, too, which she could not have neglected without sin. But this is not all. The effect of such unqualified expressions upon those who are weak in health is apt to be most disastrous. It leads them to think that they are useless where they are, and tends to develop in them a spirit of impatience. But in reality the service of suffering is as well pleasing to God as well as is that of working. Usefulness is very good. But usefulness is not the whole of Christianity. Holiness is better, because holiness is useful without making any effort, and by the simple fact of its existence. Now holiness comes out in suffering as well as in working. And so, provided we maintain holiness within the limits of our chain, it is no disgrace to us that we cannot go beyond them" An Extract taken from 'The Limitations of Life, 4th edition 1988, Dr W.M. Taylor, New York (Banner of Truth Magazine Issue 101 1972 p 7)

Sadly to my shame and sorrow, I did not see it that way at that time, I still had to be taught not to rely on myself, but in God who raises the dead (2 Cor 1:9) I was still spiritually immature, and God was teaching me to refrain from relying on myself and to rely on him, in what W. M. Taylor was saying that, busyness or usefulness is not his will for my life, but holiness of heart. There was still a lot that needed to be crucified in my life, still a lot of self reliance that needed to be eroded. I needed to learn the painful lesson, that those who are not disciplined will be strangers to great usefulness.

But at that time, I felt impelled by God. 'That everybody should know, who Jesus is'. So, I purchased a great number of Scripture Union gospel tracts. Then every afternoon after getting out of bed I began to read them all, to ensure that I knew what I was sending out, unaware at that time that the wisdom of God was teaching me further the gospel truths. Then for nine months on every Monday night before work, I posted them through every door in Aberystwyth, and then made appointments to see the headmasters of the schools to invite children to attend a Sunday school.

Then we were swamped by another wave, which was to affect us both, until we were drained physically, emotionally and spiritually. Our daughter Linda was then four years of age when Phyl announced the wonderful news that she was expecting another child. But, it was counter balanced by the sad and very painful decision that we came to make, to send Linda to the Sunshine Homes for the Blind in South Wales. (Although she had started to walk, she was still unable to see properly). Phyl was certain that she could be helped better there, and with the impending birth of the baby, that she would not be able to give Linda the twenty-four hour care that she needed.

What pained us most, was that in spite of needing constant attention, Linda had become so precious to us in the past four years, and it had never entered our minds that we would ever be separated. Sid Bowen took us to S Wales in his car, (as we had no transport of our own, nor a phone) and it felt as if a part of us were being torn out when we got to the Home, because we had never lost a child before. It was more heart breaking for Phyl, because Linda kept looking around and crying for her, and it was the most miserable journey back I have ever experienced.

Then came the second blow. During the months when Phyl was grieving at the loss of Linda, I had to go to South Wales for two days, because my mother was passing away with cancer. Then on the night she passed away, Phyl had a miscarriage in the flat in Aberystwyth on her own, with no one to help, and trying to cope with our six- year old son Andrew. It became so overwhelming for us that it left us numb, but she refused to tell the family about the bereavement. Then a few months later, Phyl had a call from the Home for the blind to say that Linda was not responding and grieving terribly for home and her mother. We contacted Sid Bowen, but he was unable to help because of College commitments, so we decided to hire a car and ask Andrew the pastor to drive it. And when we got to the Home for the Blind, the sight of Linda, who had put on a lot of weight through grieving, was too much for us both.

And while it was good to have Linda home again, and try and pick up the pieces, we were still numb with grief over the lost baby and the sight of Linda, and confused with everything that this should happen at this time. J. I. Packer described it. "The feeling that God plays cat and mouse with you. Having lifted you up by giving you hope, he now seems to throw you down by destroying it. What he gave to lean on, he suddenly takes away, and down you go. Your feelings say that he is mocking you, taking pleasure in frustrating you and making you miserable. He must be a heartless, malicious ogre after all. so you feel broken in pieces and no wonder" (Laid back Religion p 135) We began to understand in part--" The heartbreaking perplexity of God-given hopes apparently wrecked by God-ordained circumstances is a reality for Christians today, and will be the experience of more tomorrow" (Laid Back Religion p138)

For us then, it was very difficult to see the hand of God, he seemed so vague and far away. Yet, in what faith we possessed, we accepted that truth, 'that the secret things belong to God', and that we could not cope without Him-

Who every grief has known,
That wrings the human breast.
And takes and bears them as his own,
That all in Him might rest.

It was at this time that the comfort of the promises of the scriptures encouraged us. (Romans 15: 4- Psalm 119:50) "When you pass through the waters,, I will be with you, and when you pass through the rivers they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned, the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel. your Saviour'-- 'Why do you say , O Jacob, and complain O Israel,' My way is hid from the Lord?' My cause is disregarded by my God'? Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no-one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary and young men stumble and fall. But those who waited upon the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on Wings like eagles, they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not faint". Isaiah 43: 2-3, 40:27-31..

Elisabeth Elliot Says: "We believe it - we bank all our hopes on it. Jesus is alive, and yet - and yet we sorrow. There is no incongruity between the human tears and the pure presence of Christ- He wept human tears too. Nor is there sin in grieving, provided we do not give way to it and begin to pity ourselves. It is still appointed unto man to die and those who are left must grieve, yet not without hope. Resurrection is a fact. There would be no Easter and no basis for the Christian faith without it. Hence, there is no situation so hopeless, no horizon so black, that God cannot there 'find His Glory" (My underline)

A Path Through Suffering p 135

Yes, we grieved for a while, yet we were often strengthened by the promises of God. Also, we were slowly beginning to understand the doctrine of the sovereignty of God. That he is always in control. That though the claims of the gospel sometimes clashed with our everyday experience, we believed that we had been forgiven and set free, but that there will be some circumstances that might discourage us from living as we should. We were also coming to realise that our lives would get messy and difficult at times. This was the hallmark of Paul's experience, as he continued faithful in his service for the Lord. The apostle Paul encourages his readers in Corinth, to view their hardships and difficulties that they endure because of their commitment to Christ.

And it was at this time that I began to cease from my quest to be healed of my sensory handicap. I had foolishly believed that I would be more 'useful to the Lord' if I could be healed, yet I was often discouraged at times when I came away after from healing meetings, after pleading with God to heal me, to find no answer. Then through grace I began to study 2 Corinthians 12:7-12. Where Paul prayed in faith to the Lord three times for the removal of his thorn, yet he did not have his request granted. Because God had an intelligent purpose for his affliction, it was something that he would have to adjust himself to. It was as if the Lord was telling him, 'Paul, if you are going to be a minister to the gentiles for me, you have to keep the thorn'. And it clearly came to me, that if I was to carry on to know the Lord, then it was the time to pray for grace to bear it, because the promise was, 'My Grace is sufficient for thee, for my strength is (not may be, or will be, but is always sufficient) made perfect in your weakness'. Because it was the same grace that Paul had experienced fourteen years before, it was sufficient then, and would always be sufficient. That I was to learn not to say, 'Lord, this is a new problem', because new grace would be given. Yes, like Paul, I felt my 'thorn', painful, but I began to believe, that though Satan 'administered it' God had 'prescribed it'- that though Satan had 'inflicted it'-that God had 'allowed it'. This teaches us that Satan is still on a chain, and to remember that in all the providences that come our way, that God is still in control, He still takes the initiative. That although Satan is permitted to work, it is always with the limits imposed by God. For Paul knew that God 'allowed the thorn', so to God he sought deliverance.

We knew that we could only be patient in tribulation if we could balance our lives in that hope and truth. And to do this, God needed to strip away all vestige of our self reliance, and to cast ourselves continually upon him in prayer for sustaining grace and hope. My morning prayers exposed my weaknesses, and also my responsibility to depend upon God fully for daily strength and grace. That while I was praising God for each new day, for the wonder of who he was, and for what he had done for us. There was also the need to praise him and acknowledge my weakness and responsibility, to continue to ask for grace to support and guide me. "For without Him I could do nothing." This truth and hope shone out, that God's grace will never leave us nor forsake us, that he knows our frame, sees our trials, and that darkness and light are both alike to him. I humbly acknowledge, that I have tasted the bitterness of despair, and the corruption and the reign of sin. Yet praise God, I have always felt the abounding grace of God. Because, through my struggles and searching in the darkness, I have come to discover a greater God that I had even known existed, and in him is my only hope.

None other Lamb, None other name,
None other hope in heaven or earth or sea.
None other hiding- place from guilt and shame,
None besides thee!

Yet, as Phyl began to settle down again with Linda, I was still a little too restless for my own good, still champing at the bit to know what the will of the Lord was for my life. In my foolishness and ignorance I looked at every cloud for a silver lining, every sign to be the hand of God for myself. And the more I developed in my Christian life, the more impatient I got. Fearing that my life would pass me by before I had become useful for the Lord , or fearing that my past wilful and sinful life had disqualified me from representing any kind of work for God.

That was why, when the invitations came to join the New Tribes Mission students, who were doing a mission for two months, that I jumped at it. I found it so exhilarating to witness, to be 'up and doing ' as we toured the student's halls and held meetings in various churches. Then the group encouraged me to apply for training to a specific field. At that time I had been moved by the books "Commandos for Christ" (Bruce Porterfield) and "Through Gates of Splendour" (Elisabeth Elliot). The story of her husband and four others, who were martyred for Christ in Ecuador. The account of their unhesitating faith, and physical endurance to build homes and witness for Christ among the untouched, moved me to apply to that field. Phyl supported me in this, even to the thought of taking the children. So, we began to get the wheels in motion and applied for training in New Tribes Boot camp in America. I was on a high as we applied for passports etc. Then came the fateful decision by the Doctor that the 'steaming jungles, humidity and conditions' would be too much, for either Linda or me. I was disappointed, because we had believed at that time, to lay all upon the altar, and with the approval of the church, we thought that it was the Lord's will. I tried to change the Dr's mind, but he said that he was told to give an honest medical appraisal. Then the group tried to encourage me to go to another climate, or for the missionary work in Nairobi, working among the deaf. But I felt no call to work among the deaf at that time, and so I was discouraged, because it was the only place that I had my heart on.

I tried to read the intricacies of what I read in Acts 16:7. Surely it was a God-honouring aim for the apostle Paul to endeavour to take the gospel into Bithynia-"but the spirit forbid?" One thing was clear- the Lord shut fast the door into Bithynia, and Paul turned West, and the gospel came to Europe, and he is very clear that the door was opened- 2 Corinthian's 2:12. There is something very decisive about a perfect passive. So although it was another hurdle on the road, I tried to take comfort in that. I began to realise that it was more a blow to my pride, a wounding that would need some attention, to teach me another valuable lesson before moving on. Martin Luther was right when he said." I never knew the meaning of God's word until I came into affliction, I have always found it to be one of my best schoolmasters". Also- " Affliction is the Christian's theologian, it teaches him things what nothing else can".

Yet at the back of my mind I still felt that, as if my handicap like a chain, had stopped me again, but the Lord was working out his gracious purposes in my life. I was to learn through God's grace, that a 'chain' was not an indication that I was not a child of God, but that a chain is the part of all true followers of Jesus Christ. W. M. Taylor says. " We all have our bonds. There is not one of us who does not feel himself fettered sometimes, or somewhere, so that he cannot accomplish all that he desires to do. Continually we discover that the realisation of our aspirations, or the attainment of our purposes is marred by some chain, even as the penmanship of Paul was made angular and irregular by his bonds. 'We could have done so much better', we often say, 'if some unavoidable and disturbing influence had not prevented us".

" Thus we are each carrying about us a chain, of which, so long as we working within its limits, we may be largely unconscious, but which brings us to a stand the moment we have gone to its furthest length" The Banner of Truth Magazine-Issue 102 -1972 p5).

Another weakness of mine, was that while I was sure that God guides his people through his word, I was totally ignorant of a clear understanding of how he does it. I was 'like an infant'-'tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching' (Eph 4 :14) I was often giving way at times to strong subjective impulses in my heart and mind, and often misunderstanding whether they had come from God or not.

Sinclair Ferguson rightly comments:- " In the question of guidance, as in so many other areas, the basic need for Christians is to learn to be objective and in the best sense 'eccentric', that is to live our lives out of God as their centre rather than self as their centre, to escape from a self- dominated view of Christian living, and to see that their chief end was to the glory of God, and to enjoy him, it is the failure to do this that accounts for a great deal of our present confusion about guidance. When we are concerned to glorify God , guidance will cease to be a problem, and appear increasingly as a joy and privilege". (Add To Your Faith. Pickering and Inglis- p69)

The road began to get steeper, but I was getting lighter, as God was continuing to chip away, cultivating within me, an inner disposition to be fully dependant upon him. He was still directing me in the plain paths of his righteousness, for His Name's sake. After the closing of the door to my 'dream' of working with the New tribes Mission, he began to make me question the level of my biblical knowledge and interpretation. This had bothered me for some time, because when I was asked some hard questions on the scriptures, that I found myself stranded to explain.

Also, I was becoming interested in the readings of the Reformed faith. So, I applied to the London Bible College-(the old one), and explaining my sensory handicap, they compiled a two-year theology course for me, which through the gracious providence of God, with the books they recommended, brought me further to the conviction of the truth of the Reformed Doctrines. I enrolled at the local library, and was also provided with many works of theology, becoming aware of the history of the Reformation in England.

So, it was with an excited state of mind that I began to study in earnest, and took many of the books to work to read during my meal breaks. And I came to find that much of what I was studying had began to create problems with the teaching, and experiences that I had received through the Pentecostal faith. Yet, although I was not prepared to leave this denomination, the goodness of God had recreated my interest and love of reading serious literature.

At this time the bakery was taken over by a new owner who changed my hours that allowed me more time to study, also to give me a joy of a free Saturday. This meant that I did not have to drag myself out of bed after a two-hour nap, to play with my son- who had shown incredible patience. Linda was capable of walking about the rooms, but was unable to roam on her own, or go outside, and still needed twenty-four- hour care and supervision. Phyl had become involved with the Local Mencap society, and she joined in the lobbying to campaign for a school and a day centre for the Mentally Handicapped, often taking Linda with her in the push chair.

This had to be put on one side for a while with the illness of my mother-in-law who had been suffering with Huntingdon's Disease in Cardiff. Her illness had become so acute, that my father-in law could not cope, so we brought her to live with us for eighteen months to care for her, and to allow him to have some respite. I had a real affection for my mother-in-law, but the grace that she accepted her illness, without murmuring, and the fragility of her frame moved me immensely. This decline in her mother's health did put some extra pressure on Phyl, but we had come to acknowledge our weakness, depending more fully upon the Lord's grace to provide our needs.

After the death of Phyl's mum, the Lord's guidance and provision became more evident. We were provided with a house by the council away from the 'tied flat', to another part of Aberystwyth. We also were able to purchase an old car, although our finances were so low after the insurance and tax, that we could not afford petrol. Having the house delivered me from always being on call as I had been during the time we lived over the job. It also afforded us more privacy and room for Linda.

A SIGNIFICANT ENCOUNTER

One Sunday in church I became aware of some in the neighbouring pew. There was a woman bending over a book that she was constantly moving her finger along the pages. I realised that she was blind. But when the time came for the singing of the Hymn, she continued to sit down and move her finger along the pages. This appeared odd to me, because I knew that most blind people will stand to sing the hymns they know, or from their Braille hymn book. So I went across to the younger lady and asked, 'Is your friend able to understand?' She replied, 'she is not my friend but my sister, and she is unable to take part because she is Deaf and Blind'. I had never met anyone with this double handicap before. It seemed that God was saying to me 'Well Bud, are you now beginning to understand some things'?

Although over the years I had acquired some of the knowledge of the 'British Sign Language', in my blindness and pride I had not wanted to identify myself with that ministry, because I had always come to believe, that I would be used in another capacity within the church.

It was if all the years of my frustrations, anger, rejection and loneliness were brought before me, and the numerous and gracious hands that had reached out to lift me up. So that Sunday I turned to the younger woman and asked, 'Could I change places with you?'. Then after I had introduced myself to my blind friend, I began to speak on John 14:1-6. And I felt as though I was sitting under a refreshing waterfall, and unknown to her, the tears flowed unabated. The tears that were mixed with shame at my selfish pride, yet with thanksgiving for what God had done so far in my life.

I had been running away from what my heart had been telling me for some time. I was refusing to face up to and accept my hearing impairment and determining what I would do for God. The encounter with that deaf and blind woman in that church made me feel that I had wasted much time. I felt I had to get involved with those who were going through the same afflictions that I had gone through, and to comfort them with the comfort that I had received from God. I no longer wanted to climb the steppes, or cross the ocean to the jungles of the dark continent of Africa. I began to understand the loving wisdom of our God, who had 'allowed me to become deaf, that I might hear'. I could but praise his grace and longsuffering with me over the years.

What could I do to answer that call? So, throwing myself upon his mercy for wisdom and guidance, I began to study the surveys of the Deaf communities, and found to my astonishment, that there were over eight million Hearing Impaired in the UK, with a majority of them never entering a place of worship, or knowing the grace of the Gospel. I began to contact Deaf Christian Organisations, and I discovered a school for the deaf forty miles away. I was still studying, and did not wish to do things rashly, and then Lord's providence began to direct me to a young deaf girl Betty. She worked locally as a seamstress after leaving school the year before, and she lived about twenty miles away from Aberystwyth in the countryside.

After much prayer, I decided to pay her a visit one evening so that I could meet her and her parents. After driving around for over a hour I could not find her home, and I got hopelessly lost. Then as I was attempting to drive back along the narrow lanes to the main road, I found my way blocked by an oncoming car. Because neither of us could pass, I got out to explain to the other driver about my hearing loss, and that I was lost after trying to find this house. He asked me in faltering English, (which was his second language), who had I been trying to find, and when I gave the name of the young woman and her house, he said 'The girl you are looking for is in the back of the car, and she is my daughter'. I marvelled at the mysterious outworking of God, and felt like Abraham's servant who said, 'I being in the way, the Lord led me to the house of my brethren'

The family was delighted that someone was taking an interest in their daughter, and I could sympathise and understand her own isolation. She lived in a Welsh home but she could only understand the 'British Sign Language' (BSL) which is the language of the Deaf culture, taught and spoken in the Deaf schools and their communities. I learned that she travelled to work, and home by bus each day, and stayed at home every week end. So we made arrangements to meet Phyllis, so that Betty could occasionally stay at our home for the weekend and attend Sunday services with me. I thus began to teach her the gospel, while Phyl would help her in other ways.

Through Betty I was being taught to understand the mind of the profound deaf person, where English grammar and absolutes are unknown. I also improved my BSL. Needless to say, in the following months we began to attend Deaf Christian Conferences and preaching weekends, in England, there being no gospel outreach for the deaf in Wales at that time. While it broadened Betty's outlook, it brought me to see the great need, that there were still many areas where there were sheep and no shepherd. Many had no opportunities to be told of the redeeming love of Christ. After teaching Betty for three years, she came to faith in Christ and was subsequently baptised in water, even against her parents' protests, because they felt that they had her christened as a child. She also met and married another Christian from London.

THE DOCTRINES OF GRACE

I began to think very seriously of leaving the Pentecostal faith, but that was not an easy decision to make. Through God's grace over the years I had come to accept the position of the Reformed faith. I could not deny the Sovereign Grace of God in my life and salvation. I was a beneficiary of his providences directing and controlling my life. Yet, it was a wrench to leave the place where I had advanced in the rudiments of the Gospel, and known the fellowship of such godly men, for whom I was always to retain a deep and warm affection in Christ. They had enriched my life and had encouraged me through many difficult times. So, it was only after much agonising and prayer, that I told the brethren of my intention to speak to Geoffrey Thomas the pastor of the English Baptist church of my intention to attend his services. I wanted this to be done seriously, and not bring disrepute upon the name of the Lord. It was with a very heavy heart that we left the Pentecostal church, and it was not easy. Some thought that we were making a great mistake. But I will always be thankful for those places where the love of Jesus Christ is made known.

When I first met Pastor Geoff Thomas in the study of his manse, I was impressed by the size of his library. The study walls were filled with such works of theology, commentators, and biographies of great men. It brought back the memory of a visit I had made to a grand home when I was a boy, and I felt that I would have loved to spend my summer holidays browsing through those volumes. Some of the works on Geoff's shelves I recognised as I had borrowed them from other men, books by J Owen, R Baxter, C H Spurgeon, G Whitefield etc. I was a bit awed of him at first because he was tall and like my old schoolmaster with a bearing of authority. He had graduated from Cardiff University, and then spent three years at Westminster Seminary in Philadelphia.

But Geoff put me at ease at once with my faltering and stammering tongue, as I began to explain the situation and a close and growing friendship began which was to last for thirty years. Phyllis and I were in time, not only welcomed but I became a deacon and was set aside to be a pastor to the deaf. I will always grateful to the grace of God for leading me to such a faithful and Godly pastor who helped to shape my Christian life, lending and giving me many books, and teaching me from the Word of God. A. Tennyson said - 'Words like nature half reveals, and half conceals the truth'. It is with all sincerity that I say, that only eternity will reveal how much that I have owed to him in my life and ministry, as a Pastor, loving mentor and faithful friend.

So it was with mixed feelings that we attended as a family the next Sunday morning service at Alfred Place church. I was a little apprehensive at Phyllis taking Linda who was nine years old to a strange church, but she had resolved that Linda needed to be taken, and trained. Initially my fears increased with my first impressions when we took a pew, because everything seemed to be in Apple-pie order, and the people appeared so solemn, as they slid into to their pews, in comparison to the warm and bustling Pentecostal church we had left. The church was nearly full, and I knew that a number of them were teachers, who had either qualified at the university, or were still studying. I was conscious of my limitations as I nervously looked around and received a few welcome smiles. But it took me back to me boyhood where the officers would sit facing us in the 'big seat', and might frown if we coughed loudly or fidgeted.

The Pastor mirrored an authority when he entered the pulpit and began to lead us in prayer. Then the first hymn was one that I had not 'heard' since I was a boy, and that seemed to joint me with the congregation, even though I could not 'hear' a single sound. I felt as if the whole house was filled with the power and presence of God, and began to understand in part, the reason why it is a solemn, but glorious privilege to come before the almighty God to worship, as Jacob found-"Surely the Lord is in this place, and I was not aware of it- How awful is this place! This is none other than the house of God, this is the gate of heaven".

(Gen. 28;17.)

When children stood up to say the Bible verses as I had done so as a child, our son looked nervously at me, but I shook my head to assure him. Then Geoff began to expound a chapter in Genesis, which I thought at first that he was unduly long, but I think that response had more to do with myself, because I had never had to sit before anyone before, who expounded the scriptures in depth and length. Also, I found it very difficult in having to struggle to lip-read for such a long time. Later, Phyl resolved that she would write some notes if it were possible, while looking after Linda.

I had never come under such expository teaching or preaching in my whole life, for I had come to realise during the past year, the truth of the necessity of study. That while I may have learned the scriptures at heart, my wisdom and preference for certain texts that I might feel easy with, was of no use whatever. I might have aroused some passions in others when I had spoken. But, I believe now, that it had more to do with others seeing me getting up and saying a word, and coping with my handicap. I also realised that that although God in his sovereignty had used me in the life of Betty, that I had never preached the gospel in the true sense of the word, because I had never done any serious study, nor prayed over what I was going to say. So what cost me nothing, would not bring honour to Christ.

I thought of the words of Richard Baxter who said, "Certainly brethren, experience will teach you, that men are not made learned or wise without hard study, and unwearied labour and experience. If we were duly devoted to our work, it would be done more vigorously, and more seriously, than it is by most of us. How few ministers preach with all their might- Oh, brethren, how plainly, how closely, how earnestly, should we deliver a message of such importance as ours, when the everlasting life or everlasting death of our fellow men is involved in it! In the name of God, brethren labour to awaken your own hearts, before you go into the pulpit, that you may be fit to awaken the hearts of men." The Reformed Pastor, Ch.3 'Application' 2,1, 'By Negligent studies'.

During the following weeks, some of the women who knew Phyl came over to talk, while my son mixed with friends he knew. Yet I found myself isolated, and accepted that I had another hurdle to surmount, because I began to feel myself sticking out like a sore thumb. I believe that most of the men held back, because they were unsure as what to do or say, or that there might be something more than my communication, and it made me rather depressed. Again, when someone took the courage to approach me, my pronunciations made me sound like an idiot - 'a tale told by an Idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing ' I had to teach myself to speak after the war, and I had difficulty to pronounce my H's, and my speech becomes gabbled when I am nervous, and then people begin to respond as if I was a child. My initial nervousness did nothing to help, because I was still finding it very difficult to carry on a conversation. I had nothing in common with university graduates and professional people on an intellectual level. It took a lot of grace to hang on, and I often wanted to rush out when I was misunderstood, or isolated. But the Lord's grace was teaching me further patience in my embarrassment, and stripping any defences I still possessed.

I was aware that it behoves us to try and remove splinters, for the Lord had been making it plain to me that I needed to watch out for the plank. But it was very disappointing because it had happened many times. I had to speak to others, and also attempt to lip-read what they were saying, but what was so plain to them was sometimes a mystery to me. When I attempted to reply, what was completely plain in my own head, was often incomprehensible to them, then if I spoke too fast, too loud, that they began to get embarrassed and to look over my shoulder for a way out. When I was attending the Prayer meeting at times alone, to sit through the whole session without anyone reaching out to help, even when I leaned over to ask the hymns or the Bible reading. Another area of frustration was, when I had began a conversation with a person on some topic, then another person would join us, then another until I was either left out of the discussion or ignored. Come on, I thought to myself, this is not fair, it was my argument anyway. When I asked them to explain to me, only to be told, 'Oh Bud, it is too long to go back over it', and so I had to make weak excuses to leave. I had to accept that the grace of patience was doing a great work, because there was still were still some rough edges that needed grinding down.

Yet, I can say this, I was not alone, for I was beginning to find in the midst of all my traumas, a very distinct occasional awareness of the stability that resides in the Godhead. They were unflurried, and that did not mean unconcerned. Also I found comfort in God's gentle dealings with me, so, forgetting the things behind, I endeavoured and under God's grace, to continue to walk the narrow path.

Then one week-end I went to Bedminster Baptist church in Bristol to support the work among the deaf, but on my return to Aberystwyth on the Sunday night to find out that there was no job waiting for me. This was hard providence. So we prayerfully turned to the wisdom of God and cast ourselves upon him. Soon I was offered a place in a college in Surrey, but I became concerned at first, that I would be away from my family for long periods, and because I could not use the phone it would have been a particular lonely time. Also, it would mean that Phyllis would have to bear the burden of caring for Linda single handed, as well as a young son and the practical tasks around the home. After much prayer we felt that I should accept the opening, and it was while I was in Surrey I took further Pastoral Studies and Old Testament History under a Reformed Minister in Guildford, who seemed to enjoy teaching me in my spare time. I also attended a few reformed churches at weekends in Surrey and Sussex, and went up to London to worship with deaf Christians in the Old London City Mission hall in Bermondsey. It was there one Sunday that the late Dr M.Lloyd-Jones took the Anniversary Services. For although he had recently been ill this great and humble man kept his promise to preach in the two Services. He was delighted when I spoke to him afterwards that I was from Aberystwyth, but more so when I introduced Betty to him and found that her family was from Llangeitho He encouraged me to continue to believe that the pastoral ministry among the deaf would seem to be the prime place under God to which I was most suited.

On returning home from College, I found that there was no social or spiritual outlet for 'Hearing Impaired' people within the vicinity, an advert was placed in the local paper to invite all who would wish to meet. Approximately about a hundred turned up, a mixture of Hearing Impaired and the 'Hearing' (non deaf), and members of their family, or their friends, and so a society was formed. In this way I began to get to know the deaf, visiting them in their homes and hospitals, sharing their problems, and helping some of the men to find work, or becoming an advocate with their employers for better conditions or pay. Within a short time I learned of the way that their culture had evolved, and their responses to the English Vocabulary.

I was also humbled seeing the fortitude of two women, and although separated by their ages, shamed me by their determination to overcome their Deaf- Blind handicap. One was a young mother, whose husband was totally deaf and mute. They had two lovely children, who like her home, were a credit to them. I was taken aback at the attractiveness and order of the home, that would put many to shame, and at first I suspected that a home help came in each day, only to be told that she did everything herself and by touch! When she attended the services later, she had to remain silent throughout until I shared with her personally on her hands with the deaf-blind alphabet.

The other Deaf-blind lady was in her eighties, and lived in a sheltered home, when the Social Services asked for my help. I found that she had been an unmarried mother, had her baby taken away and she was put in the workhouse at eighteen. At that time she possessed some sight but this was to steadily deteriorate so that by her sixties she was only able to see shadows. And to enable her to see my face when I visited her weekly, I had to place my face approximately five inches away from hers. She did not know the deaf blind language, so everything had to be written down on her hands, or some signals I made . She was bilingual in her language, and still had her voice, and I would occasionally ask her to sing a Welsh hymn. That would give me some respite after being so close to her face for over an hour. She had very quaint ideas of what it meant to be a Christian, firmly believing that she would go to heaven because of what she had been through, and because of her handicap. There were many long, long discussions over this, and being fiercely independent, but she made sure that I took her to every service.

A few close friends were not happy in the time that I spent in social interaction, arguing that Christians should stay out of Social issues as much as possible. But I believed that as there was no Social worker for the deaf, I had to take up the challenge. Apart from my care these people, who had been deprived of the Gospel of grace for so long, needed to know the God of all Comfort and the love of Christ. So, I took steps to start Sunday services, and arranged to hold meetings in the Social Services centre in Aberaeron on Sunday afternoons with a break for sandwiches and tea.

The first meeting was to be an introduction, and to my delightful surprise over fifty people attended, a good percentage of them deaf. After asking some questions to assess their grasp of Christianity, all my plans for teaching them biblical knowledge went out through the door. The main problem was that I had hoped to preach on the basics of the Christian faith, but none of them had any comprehension of biblical theology, or any of its terminology. Coupled with this I was confronted with the complexity of the British Sign Language (BSL is not a written language) which has little grammar or syntax. Absolutes were particularly hard for them to understand. Also, many of the well-known hymns in English are couched in thought which was incomprehensible to non-Christians. It was to them as if I was teaching Greek! Again, the BSL did not have relevant signs for much of the biblical language, while prayer to them had only been offered up by priests. They had been unable to take part in worship, and while a few knew the name of Jesus through Christmas and school stories, none of them had any comprehension of a personal Saviour, or the hope of eternal life.

Throwing myself on the mercy of the Lord for wisdom, I made a blackboard and over the following months taught them the Bible, Christian doctrine and many Christian hymns, which I encouraged them to sign, joining with the 'hearing ' folk. On other occasions I drove them in the Mini-Bus to Deaf Christian meetings, Christian communication weekends, and conferences in England and Wales that would help them to familiarise themselves with Christian teaching, and to have fellowship with other deaf folk. It was after three years, that through the grace of God that I began my first series of evangelistic teaching from Ecclesiastes, and also from the Psalms, the Gospels of Mark and John.

After some years, the goodness of the Lord opened another door, when I began to get invitations from main-stream churches in England Wales to preach on Sunday mornings and evenings, while the deaf community in their areas were invited to an afternoon service, in the hope that they would join the church. It was then that congregation of Alfred Place Baptist Church held a meeting to set me apart as a Pastor to the Deaf that has resulted in twenty three years in Aberaeron, until the present day.

I have many memories of that time, for example, one Sunday I had been preaching on the text, " It is appointed unto man once to die, then the judgement" Hebrews 9:27. In the service was a young girl who had been married nine months. She had come to Christ and baptised a few years previously. Then, on her return home to Lampeter and to find that her husband had been killed with his friend that afternoon, when a car ran out of control and smashed into them. The subsequent sorrow of identifying of the body, and the funeral, -which was my first-, will always be etched on my memory. I felt so incompetent and clumsy, seeking to comfort her in her sad loss. But the sudden death had a striking effect on those who had been present on that Sunday service when I preached on that text.

I had met an old deaf man- Dai Evans from Llangybi- on one my visits to the hospital and this resulted in a long friendship. He faithfully attended, and was in the forefront of any work. I found out that his gentle and caring influence in his village was a byword. He had lost his wife a few years before, and looked after himself because his sister and brother lived in other parts of Wales. One Sunday when I was in Lincoln preaching, he was taken to the hospital with a heart attack. I drove back as quickly as I could, but found him comfortable, and waiting to go home. Then two hours later I had a call that he had a relapse and was asking for me. He appeared a little distressed as he asked for his family, so I took him in my arms to assure him, and shortly he passed away peacefully still clinging to me. I had lost a good friend, but was content in the knowledge that I was there with him at his loneliest and most difficult time. I was able to show the love of Christ to him. The funeral was in the Welsh church, which could not contain the people, and the service which I took, was used of God to convict another man who was not deaf.

One day I met a young lady had been trained as a teacher who was then working in the social service office, when she learned of the deaf ministry. She asked me if she could attend the Sunday Services because she was under the impression that it was the Deaf community organising it. She was already a Sunday school teacher in her church but did not have a saving faith. A few months later when I was preaching on a series of Mark's gospel she came to faith in Christ as she became convicted of her sin. She eventually left for Deeside, after accepting the work as a field officer for the deaf. She publicly professed faith in Christ as her Lord and Saviour and was and was baptised by Pastor Peter Milsom. I can only look back in amazement at times, at the abundant mercy and patience of God, in saving me from so much sin and guilt. Also I feel that I was not qualified to speak on handicaps or disabilities, but I have done what I could working for the Saviour.

CAUSE FOR CONCERN

By 1973, Phyl had become fully involved in the work of MENCAP being vice- chair of the local branch. Their efforts resulted in the establishing of a day school for special needs in Bronaeron (Lampeter). Phyllis was the Volunteer Escort on the Mini-bus taking the children to school. So she no longer cared for Linda during the day, she was free each morning at 7 00. am to collect the young handicap people and take them to school by 9.00 am. This was repeated in the afternoon at 4.00 pm and Phyllis arrived home at six with the last child, our daughter Linda, who had been the first child on the mini-bus.

There was lobbying for the building of the Day Centre and the invitation to the post as its supervisor, but she refused the offer. The reason for this was that for many years she had prayed for Christians to come into the work of the Mentally Handicapped. That the best step would be for Linda to be sent to a Home/ hostel run by Christians and on Christians principles. Phyllis increasingly longed to do something for this group of people who were often side-stepped by society and inadequately provided for by the state.

Through God's providence that longing became shaped by the foundation of a charity which was called- 'ACORN' - A Cause for Concern who were determined to do something to help, even if it could not solve the whole problem. The almost total lack of Christian involvement in this field at that time gave an edge to the burden, knowing that other Christian families with the pressure of this problem made it deeply important that something must be done. A pastor in Carshalton Beeches David Potter, himself a father of a Down Syndrome daughter, admitted that there were many obstacles, but who also believed in the goodness and power of an almighty God to provide. He wrote an article in the Evangelical Times in 1973 which resulted in widespread interest. More letters were written to him than any other article. Phyllis was one of those who corresponded to David Potter and he came to Aberystwyth to outline the vision that he had been given by the Lord to provide Christian Homes for the mentally handicapped. By the time we made our second contact, it seemed a logical step for both of us towards working in a Christian environment.

In 1974 David outlined his intentions to his church of setting up this work for the Lord. He had been praying for their full support, but some were unhappy with a gospel preacher leaving a pulpit ministry for this kind of work. He invited myself and Phyl to speak to meetings in Carshalton and Thorton Heath of the need and legitimacy, and to speak of my experiences among the deaf community. The following year David was given a home in Llandrindod Wells, and we went with him to review the property. But, two things were apparent, one was that there were no visible church support, and the location made it unsuitable. So David wrote to Geoff Thomas the Minister in Aberystwyth asking whether the church would be able to support it, his reply was headed:-'your letter comes as a bolt from the blue, and the implications of it will have to be considered—'Then after Phyl spoke in the prayer meeting the members of the church were given an enthusiasm for this home in Aberystwyth. There was also some misunderstanding, but we talked and prayed about it with David Potter and it felt right to go under God's leading.

Eventually in 1975 a home called 'Plas Lluest' was found which perfectly suited our needs. It was a large Mansion, with six acres of land, gardens and a large field. There was opposition from the surrounding community with natural fears that a mental home was being established near their homes. A meeting was arranged to which Phyllis took Linda to meet our new neighbours, which helped to win over the objections to the change of Plas Lluest

There were the years of refurbishing and the invitation by David to Phyl and myself to be the House parents. Yet, while Phyl accepted the role as head of Care at the outset, I had only meant to support her. I needed some time and much prayer because of my ministry among the deaf. I finally accepted it to be the will of God that he would give me the necessary grace to combine the two for a while. It was not straightforward for me, because of my doubts whether a sensory handicapped person has the ability to do this work. There were similar reservations among the committee when I was interviewed.

I was deeply disappointed, for while there may be some who may not have the mobility to carry out such practical and strenuous duties, they should be dealt with some understanding, My past experiences had proved it otherwise. It was the weight of David Potter's opinion that carried the matter. He was unhappy with the antithesis which is made between spiritual and practical skills. I will always be thankful for those people, who seek to instil confidence in a handicapped person, and their ability to perform a task, or take some risk in responsibility.

After many delays, it was in 1977 that the charity took possession of the Plas Lluest and began the subsequent refurbishing of the home through faith to accommodate sixteen adults. There were many delays, so that we wondered would we ever be ready to open the home. Yet within two years it was paid for without having a mortgage or loan, and all the bills were paid. The most common question that we were asked, 'Where does the money come from?' And the most common answer was something like this:-'You may not believe this, but it comes in answer to prayer'. I can remember sitting down with workmen in their lunch hour, at the request of their employer, Mr Lewis Griffiths, to give testimony of this, because there was less than a smile when he was told the situation. Yet he acknowledged that he was always paid on time according to his contract. This was actually and literally true that everything came from God through prayer. It came through people, individuals and groups, churches all over the country, it came unsolicited, without any fundraising or begging- bowl or letters. God had committed himself to stir and answer the prayers of those who believe in him.

Plas Lluest should have been completed by April 1979, but further delays meant that we decided to move in as a family with our furniture in November 1979. Sawdust was still on the floors, the top section of the home and kitchen half completed, while the rooms which we occupied had no carpet, curtains nor furniture, nor central heating. But that did not affect us much as family because the walls of the home were very thick. It was our intention to be there to supervise these things, and motivate the sub-contractors to complete a job before starting another. Through God's provision and grace, furniture was given to us, and in May 1980, Plas Lluest was ready to receive the second resident, Linda being the first.

It was an awesome responsibility to us both as we prayed for the beginning of the work on that first morning. We were conscious of our weaknesses, but also assured of the God of all Grace to provide the wisdom and strength, in the way that he has done throughout the ages. I marvelled then at the wisdom and providence of God who had inspired me to study social sciences in the early 70's after studying the journals from the Christian Counselling and Education Foundation (USA). The residents coming to Plas Lluest would need to be integrated into a Christian Home where they would find the love, compassion care and acceptance. We mapped out our aims, goals and rotas. Our first responsibility as houseparents before God was to ensure that the grace of God would be manifested in their young lives. Any real impact would only come if the residents were treated with dignity as people created in the image of God deserving our love and care. Whatever may be our physical or mental handicap, the quality of our lives is precious because it is a divine gift from God. The life he has given us has to be lived in fellowship with God and each other.

Another thing we had to consider at that time, that while some of the young people would come from Christian families, while others would come from various backgrounds. We were not often given the history of their past, nor psychological or anti-social problems. We were not given the medical histories, nor the past histories of those who had been deeply scarred. So in our assessment we had to start from the beginning, from basic biblical foundations with an understanding and gentleness, giving each person a three month interim period, before accepting them into the home.

In May 1980 that we stood outside the imposing front door to received the second resident, a young girl with Down Syndrome, who was accompanied by her parents from Newport. Although we had met her previously we knew that it would be a painful experience for her to part from her Christian parents, but it would offer her the liberty where through the grace of God, she would make a new future for herself in Lluest. She had a high I. Q. and a good grasp of the Scriptures which helped her to settle in. Some of the others who arrived later did not come from Christian homes, and even carried some past tragedy with them. Yet we believed that even with their handicap and personality disorders it was possible for them to be changed, and to find their potential in Jesus Christ on the same foundation that we ourselves had laid.

We began the day with morning prayers, and after reading and commenting on a passage of Scripture, we praised God for every mercy that had brought us together. Then we placed our daily requests before him. This would be our pattern for the future for those would come to live in Lluest. Much of their Christian instruction would be done through the Scriptural readings in the mornings, the memorisation of the Bible, through instruction and counselling done