Written by Cindy Smith, UPCI Associate in Missions – Iceland
Anytime someone returns to Norfolk Apostolic Church after an AIM trip, Pastor Blankenship asks them to testify about the mission. After my first official AIM trip last year, I was disappointed not to be able to report that 20 people had been baptized and filled with the Holy Ghost or that at least a few had asked for one-on-one Bible studies.
Sure, we had a couple of house services and met some people, but where was the tangible, countable fruit?
When I got back from my second trip last month, I felt differently about it.
While there had been two baptisms in Iceland about a month before I got there, no more occurred while I was there.
It would be easy to feel like my three months had been wasted, and the enemy would love for us to measure our success that way—but I’ve learned better.
I met so many people. I spent a small fortune on coffee and lunch dates, connecting with people and working on building relationships. I was able to share my testimony and talk about the goodness of God with new friends. By the time I left, I had added around eight contacts in my WhatsApp, many that I continue to talk to even now that I’m back in the States.
But none of them got baptized. None of them received the Holy Ghost.
That’s true – for now – but it’s not my job to make people hungry; it’s my job to be a witness of God’s love, to be kind, to lift up Jesus, and then to trust Him to do the rest.
One day, I was out and about with Bro. and Sis. Alphin. They both struck up conversations with people behind the counter pretty much everywhere we went. While we ate our shawarma bowls, Bro. Alphin said, “You just never know when a door will open.”
That simple thought stays with me as I order my $8 coffees and cordials, wait in line at Braud, and pay for groceries at Bonus. The people I saw the Alphins be so kind to didn’t ask for a Bible study or for prayer. Ongoing friendships weren’t built, but one thing is certain: If they hadn’t talked to them, there is zero chance for that to happen.
If we don’t try to open every door, we’ll never know which ones God will allow us to walk through.
Being in a place like Iceland where there is no known work is like being in a room full of closed doors. I’ll just keep jiggling every handle until some open – and they will. In God’s time, not mine.
In the meantime, I’ll keep buying candy bars for the girl who memorized my favorite order at Kokka, watching my friend’s dog for 20 minutes so he can run to the store, and spending those rare warm Saturdays in my friend’s yard, chatting with the many people who stop by.
That’s what I can do for now, and I can’t wait to get back to the country that I love so I can do it.