The Holy

Never far from a dominant place in my mind is that of admiration for people who totally give themselves to the work of God: People who may forgo comfort and ease, who may move thousands of miles from their families, and who may assume simple and sacrificial ways of living. Sometimes these people are missionaries to foreign countries, sometimes they pastor or otherwise work in mission churches here in America. Some are called evangelists and they travel in motor homes or in trailers towed behind their cars, and that vehicle is their home, and sometimes they rear their babies in that way. They are the givers. The sacrificers. And there are others. We might never see them or know of them, for they work in the shadows, unseen, unnoticed, but they are there: They of the Holy.

Yesterday on Brother Daniel Scott’s facebook site, I saw this picture.
It struck me in my heart, and I typed in a comment to ask what this picture represented. This was Brother Scott’s response.

Sister Shirley: I am assuming you are speaking about the Album of the construction of the church in Quininde, Ecuador. This was the first church I constructed in Ecuador. The environment was very primitive at that time (today it is modern as anything in the United States). I created a church plan that I could present and solicit money for from my Partners In Missions, and know how much it would cost, what materials to purchase, etc. The previous church building is shown, and Paul Hosch from Dallas, Texas, sent me the money for this church. From there we duplicated the plan. To day those churches are running from many hundreds to such as the church in Quito, seating nearly 2,000, yet having to have three services each Sunday with firm request that no one attend a second time. Nice huh! Brother Battle and I worked very closely togather.

I cried when I looked at that picture for I knew it represented someone’s leaving their home to do God’s work, someone’s massive struggle, someone weeping in the night and working until their strength and their bodies were racked.That image haunts me and is etched in my heart

And then today I learned of Brother Willoughby’s death, and when I thought of the circumstances, I literally grew weak.

I have found a wonderful video, a tribute to the lives of Brother and Sister Willoughby. I post it here to honor not only them but Brother Scott, Brother Battle and their families, and you, and others of The Holy. You who give all.