The Greatest Lesson I Ever Learned - Bob Stokes

As I entered full-time ministry in 1995 I read a book compiled by Dr Bill Bright entitled, "The Greatest Lesson I Ever Learned". It was a collection of stories from Christian leaders. It inspired me to ask various Christian leaders in Australia that I knew (or, mostly, knew of) for their story. These have been sitting in my computer for 10 years waiting for publication, but I didn't collect enough to warrant publishing them. So, I am now posting them as blogs so the stories can get out there. I trust you enjoy them as much as I do.

Geoff

Bob Stokes

Bob Stokes has spent sixteen years on the mission field in both India and the Fiji Islands. His radio talks over the FBC were warmly appreciated and he has had considerable experience as a youth leader “down under”. With Dr. Billy Graham’s recommendation to the churches in 1959, Bob travelled extensively in evangelism and Bible teaching, eventually becoming a recognised convention speaker in that part of the world. He also shared a “Keswick” ministry in Zimbabwe, South Africa and India. In 1964 he linked his ministry with that of Trans World Radio, and his weekly talks Gems of Grace were heard by many thousands of listeners in many countries. Bob is also author of a number of books, and his latest daily pictorial devotional To God be the Glory received a mention in Australia’s national TV program Sale of the Century and a write up in Photoworld magazine. Now a widower, and 80 years of age, Bob has a world-wide ministry - regularly visiting the USA where he assists in “pastoring” a church in Boulder (Colorado).

{Bob has since passed into the presence of his Lord Jesus Christ}

TRUST IN THE LORD

It happened over 50 years ago while my beloved wife, Cynthia, and I were serving the Lord in India. We were on an annual visit to the Nilgiri Hills to get away from the extreme heat of the plains when I met up with an Indian Christian friend who greeted me and said "The Lord has blessed me this year". "And how has He blessed you?" was my question, thinking that he had perhaps come into a fortune. "HE TOOK MY BABY GIRL TO BE WITH HIMSELF" was the calm and unexpected reply. I was staggered. As I walked away I said to myself "CouldI possibly say that if my child was taken? With few earthly possessions besides, our children meant so much to us. Could our faith reach the heights of this young Indian Christian who called his bereavement a blessing?

A few months after our return to the plains, our little daughter Rosemary Ann took sick and was rushed to the nearest hospital sixty miles away. While every attention was given to our child, I visited the wards with a message of hope in a living Saviour. To those whose minds are blinded by sin and idolatry, even to those in our own country who set up their array of chromium plated twentieth century idols and worship them, such a message is often strange and bewildering. How do we know that Christ rose from the dead? What is the proof of immortality? Within a matter of days the little life began to flicker, and before we could realise it our baby daughter was with us no more. It was indeed a shattering blow.

As we stood together over the little mound wreathed in pink oleander, we knew the biggest test was yet to come. How could we face the Indian community back at the Mission station? How could we show to those around that Christ had risen from the dead? Where was our faith now? Would it stand the test? Did we really believe the message preached in those very hospital wards? Turning to God in our human helplessness we took the journey back. wondering if we would fail Him. Upon arrival, crowds were there to greet us and the tears flowed freely. This made it all the harder but looking to our Lord we were enabled to lift our heads high, and strengthened by His power we were prevented from breaking down as we made our way back to the bungalow. This triumph of faith had its own amazing sequel.

It happened the next day at language study. Our tutor, a Brahmin, threw down his books and said "It's no good: I can't work today - I might as well tell you that I believe." "Believe what?" we asked. "I believe that Jesus Christ is the true and living God" was the amazing reply. We could scarcely take it in. "What makes you believe?" we asked with growing wonder and joy. "Well, it's like this" answered the Brahmin. "I've been telling you about my gods for some time, but something you said about Jesus Christ has worried me a lot. You said that He rose from the dead, and I worked it out that if Jesus Christ rose from the dead then he must be the living God - He must be the truth. But I wanted proof. How could I know for sure? When I heard about the death of your little daughter I said to myself, 'Ah, this is the acid test. If Jesus Christ rose from the dead I shall see it in their reactions. I shall see their faith at work.' So when you stepped off the train yesterday I was hiding behind a banyon tree, watching to see what would happen as you walked along the road with your weeping friends. The radiance in your faces broke me down, for He did for you what my gods could never do for me. I believe He is indeed the living God". In the midst of our deep sorrow we were beginning to learn one of life’s greatest lessons.

Another year passed. It was in the same Nilgiri Hills that I met the same Indian Christian. It was my turn this time. "Brother" I said as we greeted each other, "The Lord blessed me too this year". "How is that?" asked my Indian friend. "Well, He took MY little girl to be with Himself" was the answer. And the two of us shared our experience as only two can who have been the same way, learning another of life's great lessons.

The years rolled by and God gave us another little girl whom we called Joy, in place of sorrow. She was a beautiful child with blue eyes and auburn locks, the joy of our hearts. It was some time later while we were serving the Lord in the Godavari Delta that something happened which for ever changed our attitude and outlook toward others. It was like this.

A fellow missionary loaned us her houseboat, an ideal way of travelling with our family from village to village along the many canals in the Godavari Delta. At the time I employed a young married man to care for the many odd jobs on the compound, and this involved thoroughly cleaning out the boat before embarking on an evangelistic tour. Flies are more dangerous than tigers in India, and where such diseases as cholera, typhoid and dysentery abound, cleanlinessis imperative to secure adequate protection. When I examined the boat it was in a filthy condition and I was livid. Seizing the young man by the shoulders I shook him in my anger, and in so doing I tore his flimsy shirt.

Instantly I knew that my reputation, as far as he was concerned, was finished. He would never listen to me again, and it would not stop there. I had to do something about it quickly. I heard voices. One said "Have it out with the Lord", and I was determined to do that. Another said "Buy him a new shirt" and I would have gladly purchased half a dozen. It was the still small voice that whispered, "Before you bring your gift to the altar first be reconciled to your brother...". All my pride rose in protest, but there was no other way out. I placed my arm around his shoulder and simply said "Sorry, brother!" I really meant it too.

The miracle happened. Slumping down on his knees at my feet he cried in agony to the Lord as he confessed sins that I knew nothing about. His sorrow accompanied mine. In a few moments we had our arms around each other, and I never had a more faithful friend and brother in the Lord. My ministry, instead of being ruined, was even enhanced. I was learning another great lesson in God's marvellous school of faith.

That is not all. On this trip my wife contracted typho-malaria and was taken to hospital in a critical condition. Our two children came down with violent dysentery and Peter was at the point of death. Little fifteen month old Joy was seriously infected and for some unknown reason, although hospitalised, she suddenly passed away in my arms with severe dehydration.

I had to break the devastating news to my seriously ill wife who was tearing her hair in a semi-delirious state. It was an agonising time for us both. I will quote from my booklet "More Precious Than Gold" ...
"The trial of my beloved being shut away from ministering to her babes was hard, but the spirit of resignation to the will of God in the removal of her second cherished baby girl within three years was a magnificent triumph of grace. When the little body was brought into the ward, dressed in white, her sweet face set in a mass of golden curls seemed to radiate the glory into which she had entered. I shall never forget the most beautiful smile I have ever seen cross that young mother's face as she looked for the last time at the earthly form of the joy of her heart. At the little service held at her bedside, it was a tower of strength to see that frail emaciated form propped up in bed leading in the singing of "All for Jesus". Oh, the matchless power of the sustaining grace of God! Then we laid the wee body to rest with many a saint of God, our voices echoing with songs of praise and thanksgiving as the twilight swiftly closed the day."

One who attended the ceremony was none other than our previously mentioned Brahmin friend who had taken a long train journey to be present. My dear wife and Peter slowly recovered, but the Lord was teaching us perhaps the greatest lesson of all. Let me explain.

You see, if I had not been willing to say "sorry" to my brother whom I had wronged and if I had not freely forgiven him for his seeming negligence, where would I be today? I could have laid the death of my precious little daughter to his charge. I might have left India a disillusioned man, never to return to the mission field again. I could have even blamed the Lord for it all. But do not think for one moment that l have been without deep distress. desperate devastation and the detrimental depression that inevitably accompanies such deep dealings with God. This has enabled me to enter into His sufferings, a necessary requisite to glory.

As it is, although my dear wife passed away five years ago, increasing and compound­ing any loss and loneliness to a frightful degree, God had graciously given us three more wonderful daughters, and I now rejoice in four remaining children, thirteen grandchildren and six great-grandchildren. Spiritually speaking, after recent shattering bereavement, I am learning to walk again, (this time with a limp) and amazingly enough at eighty years of age I continue to enjoy a fruitful world-wide ministry full of the Lord's richest blessing - largely the outcome of tearfully battling through with the Lord and sharing His victory with others.

The greatest lesson I have learned is to trust the Lord implicitly in the midst of life's trials and tribulations, when He will undoubtedly transform tragedy into triumph and bring blessings out of buffetings, as we humbly submit to His claims and seek to obey the promptings of His Spirit in accordance with His precious Word.

"For our light affliction, which is for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen, for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal". (2.Cor. 4:16-18).