A Tribute and a Testimony

 A Tribute and a Testimony by A.B.

When I was twenty-six years old, I left England, where my family was living at the time, to work in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. At that point in my life, I considered myself an enlightened atheist, who had finally left all religion, myth, and superstition, hanging on some door behind me. I loved literature, poetry in particular: among my heroes were Shakespeare, Donne, Milton, Wordsworth, Tennyson, Keats, Hopkins, and Eliot.  My ambition was to make a fast buck in Riyadh and get back to the world of study, writing, and academia I loved so well. 

Martin and his family were also in Riyadh at this time, as Martin, who was with the Corps of Engineers, had accepted a three-year contract (1984-87) in Arabia. Martin was a man of faith, and he and his family were there not simply with a job and a relatively nice life on the American compound, but to seek and find opportunities to serve their Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

My father, who worked in Saudi and the Gulf countries most of his life, was also there. He had recently come to faith in Christ and was attending meetings of the expatriate underground church in Riyadh. He had also met Martin and his family, and being a devoted tennis player and teacher, he was teaching Carol, Martin's daughter, to play tennis. Actually, Carol and I first met on the tennis court, and it most decidedly was not love at first sight: the truth was she and my dad beat my brother and me really badly -- every time they served, it was 15-love, 30-love, 40-love, game (and it wasn't much better when we served)! Yes, there was a lot of love in the air, but not that kind of love!

Over time a friendship developed between our two families, and we often were at each other's homes sharing meals and discussions. Some of those discussions were somewhat heated, as I saw it my duty to disillusion Martin and his family of their belief in God, let alone a personal God. In my pride I thought they were narrow in their thinking but couldn't help it; and they thought I was lost beyond hope though I know they had me in their prayers -- hope against hope!

Months passed, and I was now in my twenty-seventh year. I began to occasionally attend the underground church with my father. One day I learnt that the church was using part of its offering money to help with the needs of non-Saudi laborers who had fallen on hard times. When I inquired further, Martin told me that men brought to Arabia from the Philippines and Thailand to work on certain construction projects had been abandoned by their employers and left to fend for themselves on the worksites where they lived. The underground church was helping with these men's needs at various sites.

Whereas many who worked in Saudi were happy to make their money to build their fortunes and/or buy or pay off their dream houses and cars, and sometimes were also paying a pretty penny to acquire alcohol on the black market to add to their weekend pleasures, here were a few followers of Christ who seemed more concerned about others than themselves and were seeking to make a difference around them. What was their secret? Not only were they practicing their faith in defiance of odds and dangers, but their faith seemed to be leading them to show love and concern even to the marginalized.

I now was conflicted: surely a person does not need God to be good and do good! I could be Mr goody-two-shoes too and help the poor and needy. I told Martin, whom I knew was active in this work of mercy, that I wanted to help: I would give of my money and help buy provisions and go with him to deliver them to the various sites. 

Thus began the final leg of my journey to repentance and faith. Here's how things went: every time I went with Martin, I heard the message of the gospel as he shared it (sometimes through a translator), and I also saw action (helps, compassion) behind the gospel; but it wasn't until a few months into my accompanying Martin on these trips that I saw the gospel in real action (impacting hearts and lives). 

I will relate here two instances. At one of the Thai camps, the man translating for Martin came to faith in Christ, and the following week when we returned there, it was evident that he was translating the message with conviction and passion. Another week, and we saw the whole camp, forty-one men in total, make professions of faith. This was all followed by testimonies in which the men shared how they were thankful they had come to Saudi and fallen on hard times, and through that they had heard and believed the gospel, and they were already writing home to their families about it.

Another instance was something that happened one night at a Philippine camp. Over a period of time several of the men there had come to Christ, but that particular night, several more came to Christ, and many gave a word of testimony, in which they shared (much as the Thai men had also shared) how they were thankful for the way God brought the gospel to them, and they were writing home about it, and they could not wait to be reunited with their families (which is something Martin and others were eventually able to help them with) to tell them face to face.

All of this was not without its effect on my own heart. I was not ready to make a big public profession at that point, but I knew the system of belief I had constructed for myself was tumbling over, I knew I was now disarmed of my pride and resistance, I knew God not only existed but was a personal God, and I knew Christ had come to save sinners like me. The ride home from the Philippine camp that night was mostly silent, and I think Martin knew I was mulling things over and left me alone -- which allowed the Holy Spirit to continue His work of convicting in me.

When I was finally alone in my room at home, I knelt by my bedside and cried out to God to save me. That was one night in April of 1986... and it is now more than 30 years later! And this is a testimony to one man's faithfulness and fruitfulness by God's grace... and a testimony to God's faithfulness and sustaining grace.