From the Land Down Under to the Rising Sun

Mary:

To refresh your memory (or if you missed reading the previous post), June and Milton were in Kobe with the JEB mission, mainly conducting services in the Mission Hall in Shinkaichi – a busy entertainment street. They felt a tug to work with young people and had gotten permission from their mission to branch off to create the Wakodo Shinsei Kyokai (WSK), or New Life Association for Young People.

Also, as I transcribed the following words from Dad’s autobiography I had to chuckle because it is full of words that are so specific to the pre-digital age. Projectors, film, telegrams, mail (letters that come in an actual envelope) and checks…. Such a great look back into a bygone era. 😊  Also he mentions Australian currency as pounds…Australia converted to dollars from pounds in 1966.

Milton:

Just at the time we moved out of the structured orbit at the Mission Hall to fly free on a new adventure in search of the elusive youth, God decided to add a lesson or two to my educational process.

Thousands of people walked by the Mission each day, especially during festival times. Through the front window, we could see a steady stream of bobbing heads flowing by like a stream drifting through a meadow. They convinced me we needed a movie projector. I knew 16mm movies were novel enough to draw off enough humanity from that stream to fill the Hall many times during one festival. I applied to the Mission. After secret sessions and high ponderings, the executive and exclusive Mission Council decided such a thing was too extravagant to put on the budget or their prayer list. No go.

I said to June, “if they don’t want it, let’s get it for ourselves.”

That statement was kind of prophetic in that after a few months we were out of the Mission Hall service, conducting rallies for students with films rolling every month. I wrote to two men of prayer about the movie project. The Lord had said “If two or three of you agree…” and I was leaning heavily on that rest of that promise. One man was Bill Rae of Canada. He had been a great help to us, and he was a mighty man of faith. Bill raised money to build a Bible school in post-war Japan and he did it by faith and prayer. I asked him to tell no one, but I added that if someone gave him money for a 16mm projector then he would know it was for me. Next, I wrote to Neville Horne, our own home church pastor. He lifted our church out of the doldrums through sheer prayer.

Practically by the next mail, a letter came from Pastor Horne. Enclosed was £100 (then about ¥100,000) He wrote: “Milt, I was just spreading your request out before the Lord when I got a letter from Bill Naylor in Melbourne, with a check for £100 in it. Bill said it was for a missionary, but he did not know who. So, I called him and told him about this prayer, and he shouted; ‘That’s it, Neville…. it’s for Milt!’”

Earlier a missionary friend in Tokyo had told me he had a contact with a well known firm in the States and they would deliver a Victor projector to any address in the U.S. for ¥100,000. I telephoned him and he sent a telegram off right away. The machine was sent to the wharf in San Diego where another missionary friend was about to leave for Japan. She carried the projector back as cabin luggage for me. She arrived in Tokyo on Thursday and the next day mentioned her problem of getting it down to Kobe to a group of young people. One of the students at the gathering told her he was traveling down that night and would gladly take it with him. I arrived at the Mission Hall on Saturday to prepare for the special meetings we were to conduct during the Port Festival, that was starting that day. The projector was sitting in the hallway at the back of the building waiting for me.

“A young man left this parcel here for you,” the resident Pastor informed me. “What is it?”

“It’s my present from the Lord. And it has arrived just two months from the time I asked for it.”

I learned God works fast when we believe and pray.

Mary:

Based on dates on photos their youth program (WSK) started around 1959 or maybe 1960. Of no interest to anyone but my siblings, what I didn’t know was that the first WSK overnight camp was at Lake Tojo – not too far from Kobe according to Google Maps. In later posts there will be camp pictures from Lake Biwa which is what I have distinct memories from.

Mary:

This next story chronologically is a little bit later than then the first camp, probably about 1964.

Milton:

One Saturday morning I was frantically searching for a lost check. I lifted and sorted the papers on the desk about three times and had alternated that search with a scramble through the desk drawers. Each time the mess grew worse, and I was just coming to the conclusion that there was a law of physics that caused the lost article to become invisible when I got near it. I shut my eyes and then imagined the check and looked again. It didn’t work. I had read somewhere that was a good way to find things. I prayed about it too, but no check appeared. I tried to console myself with the idea that ‘No’ can be an answer too. But I really wanted the check.” There must be some other lesson in all this,” I mumbled as I proceeded with my frantic search. Just then I heard a noise at the door and looked up. Ten-year-old Dave was standing there looking grim.

“Daddy, my ball went over the fence at the back. Could you get it?” he quietly asked.

Our back fence was high, about ten feet of heavy wire mesh. And beyond it was a maze of low roofs and steep drops. It would be hopeless for a little kid to attempt to get over it. I knew I was needed, and I also knew I had lost a check. So, I blurted out, “Oh come on Dave, I’m a missionary and I have responsibilities and I’ve also lost a check.”

He just stood there with his hands on his hips as if I hadn’t spoken or he was deaf. His eyes signaled: “I don’t really care what else you are, but you are my father and I have lost a ball.”

So, I gave up my opposition and went out into the backyard with him. It was a split-level area with a strip by the fence about six feet lower than the part near the house. As I walked down the steps to the lower part, I began to pray; “Lord I am doing this because I am his father, and he has lost a ball. Now I have lost a check…” By that time, I was passing the old oil drum we used for an incinerator. I noticed it was full of rubbish and papers but hadn’t been burned. I glanced into it and could see a long white envelope among the refuse. I reached down and pulled it up. Inside was my lost check. I went over the fence singing; I got the message: If I hadn’t played the father’s role for my son, I would have missed a lesson about the Father-care of God. And that was a very important lesson for us on the lonely road we were about to take.

Mary:

In the interest of trying to keep these posts to bite-sized short morsels what a great cliffhanger sentence to end on!