(This story is taken from a fantastic biography about Brother Andrew, called The
Narrow Road)
It was while I was in the midst of this hopeless and heartbreaking work that
one morning during the Quiet Time that was now an integral part of every day
wherever I was, I had the most remarkable impression. It was just as though I
heard a voice tell me: "Today you are going to get the visa for Yugoslavia."
I was incredulous. I had almost forgotten about my pending applications for
travel there and other places, so wrapped up had I been with the camps. Still, I
found myself glancing out the window of the volunteer hostel, watching for the
morning mail. When I saw the carrier coming, I ran down to meet her. "A letter
for you from Holland!" She said and fished around in her bag.
I took the letter from her. The address in Witte was crossed out, and above it,
in Geltje's handwriting, was the street and number of the hostel in Berlin. In
the left-hand corner of the envelope was the seal of the Yugoslavian embassy at
The Hague. "Thank you!" I said, and right there on the corner I ripped the
letter open and stared uncomprehending at its contents. The Yugoslav government
regretted to inform me that my application for a visa had been denied. That was
all. No explanation.
What did it mean? Surely I had received some kind of advance knowledge about
this letter. But my message had been that the visa was granted. Could it be that
I was to go to the Yugoslavian consulate in Berlin and make a new application? I
ran up to my room, snatched up a set of photographs, and headed for the tramway.
Within an hour I was once more filling out those long triplicate forms. And once
more I came to the line: "Occupation." This was the one, I suspected, that was
causing all the trouble. "Lord," I said under my breath, "what shall I put
here?"
And all at once I was recalling the words of the Great Commission: "Go ye, and
teach all nations...... Then, I was a teacher, wasn't I? On the application form
I wrote TEACHER and handed the forms across the desk.
"If you will have a seat over there, sir, I will examine your application right
now."
The official disappeared into another room. I waited an anxious twenty minutes
during which time it seemed to me that I could hear the chatter of a telegraph
key. But it must have been a mistake, because the clerk came back all smiles to
wish me a happy journey into his country.
I had to tell someone the good news. My folks? We didn't have a telephone, and
it was awkward going through the neighbors. The Whetstras? That was it! I'd
telephone the Whetstras.
I placed a station-to-station call and got Mr. Whetstra himself on the line.
"This is Andrew calling. How lucky to find you home in the middle of the day."
"I thought you were in Berlin." "I am."
"We were so sorry to hear about your father."
"Thank you. But this call is good news, Mr. Whetstra. I just had to tell you. I
have in my hand two pieces of paper. One is a letter from the Yugoslavian
consulate in Holland turning down my request for a visa, and the other is my
passport, stamped with a visa by the Yugoslav people here. I've got it, Mr.
Whetstra! I'm going behind ' the Curtain as a missionary!"
"Andrew, you'd better come home for your keys."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Whetstra, this is a bad connection. I thought you said keys."
"I did. To your Volkswagen. We've talked it all over, and there's no untalking
us. Mrs. Whetstra and I decided months ago that if you got the visa, you also
got our automobile. Come home and pick up the keys."
(see part 1)
Open Doors, Brother Andrew with John & Elizabeth Sherrill, The Narrow Road,
Grand Rapids, MI: Fleming H. Revell, 2001, p. 145-148.
The Illustrator: This daily newsletter is dedicated to encouraging
everyone to look towards Jesus as the source of all the solutions to our
problems. It contains a daily inspirational story, a Bible verse and encouraging
messages. HTML and plain text versions available.
The Nugget: Published three times a week, this newsletter features inspirational devotionals and mini-sermons dedicated to drawing mankind closer to each other and to Christ.