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GOD'S REMARKABLE
WAYS
Back
in 1921 a missionary couple named David and Svea Flood went with their
2 year old son to what was then called the Belgian Congo. They met up
with another young Scandinavian couple. In those days of much
tenderness and devotion and sacrifice, they felt led of the Lord to set
out from the main mission station and take the gospel to a remote area.
This was a huge step of
faith. At the village of N’dolera they were rebuffed by the
chief, who would not let them enter his town for fear of alienating the
local gods. The 2 couples opted to go half a mile up the slope
and build their own mud huts. They prayed for a spiritual breakthrough,
but there was none.
The only contact with the
villagers was a young boy, who was allowed to sell them chickens and
eggs twice a week. Svea Flood- a tiny woman only four feet, eight
inches tall - decided that if this was the only African she could talk
to, she would try to lead the boy to the Lord. In fact she succeeded.
But there were no other encouragements.
Meanwhile, malaria continued
to strike one member of the little band after another. In time the
Ericksons dedided they had enough suffering and returned to the central
mission station. David and Svea Flood remained near N’dolera to
go on alone.
Then, of all things, Svea
found herself pregnant in the middle of the primitive wilderness. When
the time came for her to give birth, the village chief softened enough
to allow a midwife to help her. A little girl was born, whom they name
Ain. The delivery, however, was exhausting, and Svea Flood was already
weak from bouts of malaria. The birth process was a heavy blow to her
stamina. She only lasted another 17 days before she died.
Inside David Flood, something
snapped in the moment. He dug a grave, buried his 27 year old wife, and
then took his children back down the mountain to the mission station.
Giving his newborn daughter to the Ericksons, he snarled, “I am
going back to Sweden." I’ve lost my wife, and I obviously
can’t take care of this baby. God has ruined my life." With
that, he headed for the port, rejecting not only his calling, but God
himself.
Within 8 month both the
Ericksons were stricken with a mysterious malady and died with days of
each other. The baby was then turned over to some American
missionaries, who adjusted her Swedish name to “Aggie” and
eventually brought her back to the United States at the age of three.
This family loved the little
girl and were afraid that if they tried to return to Africa, some legal
obstacle might separate her from them. So they decided to stay in their
home country and switch from missionary work to pastoral ministry. And
that is how Aggie grew up in South Dakota. As a young woman, she
attended North Central Bible College in Minneapolis. There she met and
married a young man name Dewey Hurst.
Years passed. The Hursts
enjoyed a fruitful ministry. Aggie gave birth first to a daughter, then
a son. In time her husband became president of a Christian college in
the Seattle area and Aggie was intrigued to find so much Scandinavian
heritage there.
One day a Swedish religious
magazine appeared in her mailbox. She had no idea who had send it and
of course she couldn't read the words. But as she turned the pages, all
of a sudden a photo stopped her cold. There in a primitive setting was
a grave with a white cross – and on the cross were the words SVEA
FLOOD.
Aggie jumped in her car and
went straight for the college faculty member who, she knew, could
translate the article. “What does this say?” she demanded.
The instructor summarized the
story: It was about missionaries who had come to N’dolera long
ago … the birth of a white baby…the death of the young
mother .. the one little African boy who had been led to
Christ…. and how, after the whites had all left, the boy had
grown up and finally persuaded the chief to let him build a school in
the village.
The article said that
gradually he won all he students to Christ…. even the chief had
become a Christian. Today there were 600 Christian believers in that
one village…
All because of the sacrifice of David and Svea Flood.
For the Hursts’ twenty
fifth wedding anniversary, the collage presented them with a gift of a
vacation to Sweden. There Aggie sought to find her real father.
And old man now, David Flood
had remarried, fathered 4 more children, and generally dissipated his
life with alcohol. He had recently suffered a stroke. Still bitter, he
had one rule in his family: “Never mention the name of God-
because God took everything from me.”
After an emotional reunion
with her half brothers and half sister, Aggie brought up the subject of
seeing her father. The others hesitated. “You can talk to
him,” they replied, “ even though he’s very ill now.
But you need to know that whenever he hears the name of God he flies
into a rage”. Aggie was not deterred. She walked into the dirty
apartment, with liqueur bottles everywhere, and approached the 77 year
old man lying on a rumpled bed. “Papa?”, she said
tentatively.
He turned and began to cry.
“Aina”, he said. “I never meant to give you away.
“It’s all right, Papa,” she replied, taking him
gently in her arms. “God took care of me”.
The
men instantly stiffened. The tears stopped. “God forgot all of
us. Our lives have been like this because of him.” He turned his
face back to the wall. Aggie stroked his face and then continued,
undaunted. “Papa, I've got a little story to tell you, and it is
a true one. You did not go to Africa in vain. Mama did not die in vain.
The little boy you won to the Lord grew up to win that whole village to
Jesus Christ. The one seed you planted just kept growing and growing.
Today there are 600 African people serving the Lord because you were
faithful to the call of God in your life….
Papa, Jesus loves you. He has
never hated you.” The old man turned back to look into his
daughter's eyes. His body relaxed. He began to talk. And by the end of
the afternoon, he had come back to the God he had resented for so many
decades.
Over the next few days,
father and daughter enjoyed warm moments together. Aggie and her
husband soon had to return to America – and within a few weeks,
David Flood had gone into eternity.
A few years later, the Hursts
were attending a high-level evangelism conference in London, England,
when a report was given from the nation of Zaire (the former Belgian
Congo). The superintendent of the national church, representing some
110,000 baptized believers, spoke eloquently on the gospel's spread in
his nation. Aggie could not help going to ask him afterwards if he had
heard of David and Svea Flood.
“Yes madam,” the
man replied in French, his words then being translated into English.
“It was Svea Flood who led me to Jesus Christ. I was the boy who
brought food to your parents before you were born. In fact, to this day
your mother’s grace and her memory are honored by all of
us.” He embraced her in a long, sobbing hug. Then he continued,
“You must come to Africa to see, because your mother is the most
famous person in our history."
In time that is exactly what
Aggie Hurst and her husband did. They were welcomed by cheering throngs
of villagers. She even met the man who had been hired by her father
many years ago to carry her back down the mountain in a hammock-cradle.
The most dramatic moment, of course, was when the pastor escorted Aggie
to see her mother’s white cross for herself. She knelt in the
soil to pray and give thanks.
Later that day, in the
church, the pastor read from John 14:24: “I tell you the truth,
unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only
a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.” He then
followed with Psalm 126:5, ”Those who sow in tears will reap with
songs of joy."
(An excerpt from Aggie Hurst, Aggie: The Inspiring Story of A Girl Without
A Country [Springfield, MO: Gospel Publishing House, 1986].)
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