Reports of recent Trips and Work by Godspeed Missionary Care

• Only a glimpse of France, insufficient time there to give any true understanding of culture or character. Having been warned that on this our first time to Paris we would almost certainly encounter an arrogant reception made worse by the recent decline in Franco-American relations, we were gratified that the brief encounters we had with hotel clerks, waitresses, storekeepers, people on the street, were each and every one gracious and pleasant.



• A gracious people, but in this country one catches only a glimpse of evangelical fervor. We attend a "large" church in suburban Paris, founded 27 years ago; forty adults and not quite that many children make up the congregation. Missionaries who work in France know that much of their work will be seed planting rather than harvesting.



• Arabs make up more than 10% of the French population, immigrants from North Africa, the Middle East, and elsewhere. Their Islamic traditions run deep, and any missionary effort is daunting. Glimpses of success are few; the missionary family we are visiting tells of a colleague who worked forty years with such a population without seeing a single person come to Christ. They themselves do not openly acknowledge their missionary identity, and may spend months or years simply developing relationships with Arabs, so that at some point the gospel can be presented.



• And when a Muslim does hear the gospel presented and is brought into the Kingdom, one can get a glimpse of what true commitment is all about. Arabic/Islamic family traditions can be powerful influences; we hear stories of new believers who are excluded from further contact with their family, their culture, even day to day social exchange as a result of their new beliefs. And not just a loss of cultural and family identity: acts of physical retribution, slavery, and forced return to a home country are possible. I am challenged to consider how little my faith has cost me in comparison.



• And one last glimpse: while I was standing, singing in the small French church during Sunday service as we prepared to receive Communion, I notice a little girl certainly less than two years old, who makes her way to the communion table just in front of the first row of congregants. While all the (tall) adults are singing, many with eyes closed, others with their eyes turned upward, this tiny person goes to the plate with the communion bread, lifts the cover, and takes a single piece. I don't think anyone else saw her as she sat on the floor, satisfied with her find.