Stories From a Cold War Missionary
In 1977 our organization, Cru® (Campus Crusade for Christ International®) asked Larry and me to go live covertly—live a double life—behind the Iron Curtain in communist Poland. Our pioneering assignment focused on starting a clandestine grassroots ministry of evangelism and discipleship. As we packed our bags to depart, we counted the cost. Would we ever return?
Those were the bitterly cold days of the frigid Cold War; and for our parents, a death would have been easier. Missionary activity, illegal under that atheist government, required rigorous tactics. Therefore, they were not allowed to discuss our whereabouts with anyone.
Defying the government and obeying the commands of Scripture, by God’s grace we established a beachhead—first in Kraków and then in Warsaw—and inched forward, seeking to help fulfill the Great Commission. Quietly we met with individuals, students in particular, who wanted to hear the message of the Good News.
Two years into this assignment, on one particular June afternoon in 1979, I found myself home alone with our newborn son. Larry and our energetic daughter went to the nearby park for much-needed fresh air and sunshine, and with their departure, silence descended. Then, in a tiny, yellow, upstairs room set apart as our baby nursery, God met me in an unusual way.
Within the quietness, I began to ponder the inevitable results of serving in a closed country. As covert missionaries operating under mandatory secrecy, newsletters to churches, phone calls to pastors, and interviews with mission committees did not exist. For the safety of those coming alongside of us, it was imperative for all operations to take place undercover and under a code of silence.
Standing at the changing table, I prayed and poured out my heart to the Lord: “God, You are doing so many amazing things, and yet, no one even knows! We can’t talk about Your work! We can’t tell the great and mighty miracles that You are allowing us to see.”
Never will I forget what occurred next. In that moment, the Lord spoke to my heart with these powerful words: “Debby, you do what I have called you to do today—you take care of this little baby—and the day will come when you can tell My Story.”
The day will come when you can tell My Story.
So now, decades later, I feel as though I stand on holy ground to finally see the fulfillment of His promise given in that Warsaw baby nursery in 1979. With a sense of reverence and awe, I embrace the privilege of telling His Story, a Story with two themes: His amazing miracles behind the Iron Curtain, but also His amazing miracles behind the curtain of my heart.
Yes, the day has finally come to tell His Story.
“We went through fire and water, but you brought us to a place of abundance” (Psalm 66:12).
I invite you to read further:
Pulling Back the Iron Curtain: Stories From a Cold War Missionary
