I believe he said the city was Madrid where he and his family were with a real estate agent, going through the complicated process of finding an apartment. He stood on the street of the bustling city as cars and buses roared by, while swarms of people clicked their way up the sidewalk. Their beautiful Spanish language was spoken in quick, fluid sentences.
“They won’t listen to you.”
“They won’t listen to you.” It was not a voice, but as clearly as were a man speaking to him, Missionary Wiggins heard the message. It was heavy and bleak, and suddenly a grey overwhelming spirit enveloped him.
He turned and looked around him. The traffic in the street roared on, the masses of people continued their surge along the sidewalk, ignoring him and his family. Quickly, he moved from his place and joined the wave of people.
What am I doing? Why have I brought my family to this strange place? I can’t even understand the language, even though I have studied and thought I was prepared…they speak so rapidly…What am I doing here?
“They won’t listen to you,” again the grey impression gripped him.
Suddenly as he moved with the crowd, his head tucked, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned, and looked into the eyes of Pablo. “Sir, I will talk to you.”
The missionary stared as the young man continued to speak in extremely broken English.
“I want to be your friend…I want to learn English…we will walk through the city…I will show you..”
The missionary was astonished, jolted to a stop, whirled around, and locked into the eyes of the young man, as Pablo concluded his plea. “I will listen to you.”
Oh, my friend, let me remind you today of the negative voices that accost our ears, that determine to snatch away our Calling, that fight to squash our faith; to divert us from our Mission and to discourage and depress us. Let us not be fooled, let us not hear the voice of the enemy, but rather press past those sounds and those black impressions. Quickly, we must regain our footing and see again our Vision. We must listen intently to the voice of the Master who urges us ever onward.
(I heard Missionary Wiggins speak this account last Sunday night. I’m not sure I have the city correctly identified, and am sure I do not have the young man’s name accurately depicted. The story, though, is true, only these details may be in error.)