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Many years have passed since my wife and I began our first term of service in Europe. We arrived in Southampton, England, on May 1, 1964, aboard the Cunard vessel, Franconia. Just nineteen years after the end of World War II, we had sailed through the choppy seas and icebergs of the North Atlantic for more than a week to reach our mission field. Now, looking back after several decades, we are blessed by what we see, so to speak, in the rear view mirror. Though it is accurate that many Europeans have grown apathetic towards religion, it is also true that God is still at work in the countries of Europe. Sometimes, however, we do not see the results of our labors until time has passed. A few years ago, my wife and I had the opportunity to spend a weekend preaching for Pastor Peter Hughes, a longtime friend then serving in Llandrindod Wells, along the English-Welsh border. We arrived on Saturday for an Afternoon Tea, followed by the first service. Pastor Hughes had warned me that I was in for a big surprise. We followed a convoy of vehicles to a rather large farm in the Welsh countryside. Behind the main residence was a corrugated steel shed that had been cleared out to make room for wooden tables and chairs that would seat perhaps 60 guests. The ladies had already assembled large pots of tea and rows of cakes and biscuits of assorted sizes and shapes. While we were waiting to begin, Peter introduced to me my old acquaintance, Charlie Evans. Charlie was the local blacksmith near Builth Wells, whom I had not seen for 35 years. He 6 BIMI WORLD Charlie Evans was in his 90's and still preaching the old time Gospel as a layman in that area of rural Wales. What a welcome we received! But the biggest surprise was still ahead. The owner of the farm, Graham Morris, was a man in his early 40's. He stood up to speak behind a makeshift pulpit in that metal shed with straw on the floor. To my complete surprise, he revealed that he had Graham Morris met me 28 years earlier, when he was but a lad of 12. As a youngster, he had attended a certain Good Friday service at the local Baptist chapel where I had been invited to speak. In his Bible, he still carried the outline of the message that I had preached on that day, nearly three decades before. As Graham spoke, he shared the story of his salvation. He said that as he was walking out of the little chapel that day, I had asked him if he had ever given his heart to Jesus. The question followed him home. That very afternoon beside his bed, Graham Morris became a Christian. He was now a faithful deacon in the church, leading his family to follow Christ. It took me nearly 30 years to learn the rest of his story. Although I look back upon Graham's testimony with much joy, it also causes a moment of serious reflection. More than 800 million souls live in Europe. The years are passing, the hours are fleeting. Who will reach the “Grahams” of Europe for Jesus Christ? Will you? n