God, I Cannot Do This

“While the world was reading one story, God was writing another.”

Excerpt from the book, Pulling Back the Iron Curtain: Stories From a Cold War Missionary

“Oh, God, how am I going to make it? I am desperate for You. Never in my life have I felt this helpless.” Caught in the grips of an unimaginable struggle, this missionary wife and mom needed Jesus as never before.

In the summer of 1977, Larry and I, with our daughter, now finally resided as undercover missionaries behind the Iron Curtain. While enrolled as students in a summer language program in Lublin, Poland, we passed the days attending class, doing homework, and attempting to master a language foreign to our ears and awkward for our tongues.

Though trained to expect culture shock, the depth of shock plunged far deeper than our preparation. Without a break, we lived, breathed, and walked the streets of communism for the first time in our American lives. Operating behind the Iron Curtain—and behind the lines of NATO—gave the word alone a new reality and made textbook training inadequate.

The iron fist of communism screamed around every corner. Economic deprivation was astounding. Daily tasks became monumental. Even a standard phone call to parents in the U.S. required a forty-eight-hour advanced reservation; and then on the appointed day, we waited two hours in the post office for the international operator to connect the call. Once the call came through, we hyper-guarded our conversations for reasons of personal safety.

So, on this particular afternoon in time alone with Jesus, I assessed my situation and confessed:

Life was far more challenging than I expected. We washed clothes in a wringer washer, the type my daddy purchased for my grandmother when he returned home from World War II. The absence of a dryer and the cool summer weather made drying clothes especially difficult. Food lines outside nearly empty stores resembled black-and-white movie clips from the Great Depression.

Language school was far more difficult than anticipated. My high school Spanish class paled in comparison to this. The Polish language was daunting. I felt so stupid.

Lingering questions like “How did I get here?” shook my equilibrium and left me feeling inadequate to answer. How did I end up as a clandestine missionary in a communist country? How did I find myself walking the streets of a town a mere ninety-seven kilometers/sixty miles from the Soviet border? How could I have landed in the same location with buildings, photographs, and personal effects from the Nazi concentration camp Majdanek? How screamed at me!

I grew up in a Christian home and became a follower of Christ at an early age. As a young third-grade girl, I believed God wanted me to be a missionary. Yet, for years fear characterized my relationship with God, fear that He would ruin my life and send me to Africa as a missionary.

Then, at university, I met a group of students who had a smile on their face, a song in their heart and a spring in their step. They marched to the beat of a different drum, and I joined their ranks. Our clarion call was, “Come help change the world.” My manifesto before God declared, “Anything, anytime, anywhere.”

Soon after, this cheerleader met and fell in love with a handsome, blue-eyed football player. His proposal was, “Will you go with me in helping to reach the world for Christ?” My “yes” to that question, and the supernatural call of God on our lives, now placed me right here on this unfamiliar piece of earth in eastern Poland.

“Oh, God, please help me. If I am going to survive, You must intervene.” My prayer gushed from an honest, confused, aching heart held out before God.

And God intervened. Deep down, in the depths of my soul, with the power of His Word, God took over. He marched right across communism, right across culture shock, right across my emotional pain, and met me, Debby, with the words of Psalm 139:9-10: “. . . if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.”

The Holy Spirit threw a lifeline, and I grabbed it, holding on for dear life. In a communist coffee shop, surrounded by a language beyond my comprehension, heaven descended and brought peace to my troubled, broken heart. Just what I needed most, just when I needed it most. God showed up—right then, right there.

In July 1977

In Lublin, Poland

In His Word

“When I was most desperate, He was most dependable. Geography never poses an issue for the presence of God.
“I will never leave you or forsake you”(Hebrews 13:8) is for real.”

— Debby Thompson

On that dark day, I discovered the light of a lesson I will never forget, the lesson that laid the foundation for the 12,045 days of the 33 years to follow: When I was most desperate, He was most dependable. Geography never poses an issue for the presence of God. “I will never leave you or forsake you” (Hebrews 13:8) is for real.

I invite you to read further:

Pulling Back the Iron Curtain: Stories From a Cold War Missionary

Secretary Powell's 13 Rules of Leadership

[Taken entirely from the official blog of the U.S. State Department.]

As we reflect on former Secretary of State Colin Powell’s legacy, we are reminded of his thirteen rules of leadership which have guided so many of our colleagues and principals. We are grateful for his love of the State Department and his legacy that we still feel in the workplace.

Secretary Powell’s 13 Rules:

1. It ain’t as bad as you think! It will look better in the morning.

2. Get mad then get over it.

3. Avoid having your ego so close to your position that when your position falls, your ego goes with it.

4. It can be done.

5. Be careful what you choose. You may get it.

6. Don’t let adverse facts stand in the way of a good decision.

7. You can’t make someone else’s choices. You shouldn’t let someone else make yours.

8. Check small things.

9. Share credit.

10. Remain calm. Be kind.

11. Have a vision. Be demanding.

12. Don’t take counsel of your fears or naysayers.

13. Perpetual optimism is a force multiplier.

Colin L. Powell

1937-2021

Pulling Back the Iron Curtain

“While the world was reading one story, God was writing another.”

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