I’ll admit it. Math has never been my strong suite. It was third grade when I had to learn my times tables. My teacher, Miss Richards, had a paper tree on her class room wall, and each time we learned a math fact, our monkey got to climb up a branch. I remember freaking out because my friend told me that the ones and twos times tables were due that day, and somehow I missed the fact that I was supposed to learn them. Sure, the "ones" were easy, but the two's? I didn't know how to do them! We were on a bathroom break, and the test was right after the break was over. “Just skip every other one” my friend said. That was the best word of advice any friend could give me at the time. I remember telling Miss Richards very slowly, well at least slow enough that I could count on my fingers, anyway. Zero times two is zero. One times two is two. Two times two is four…all the way up to two times twelve is twenty-four. Relieved, my monkey got moved up a level, and I vowed to memorize the rest of them, this time before the test. I wasn’t stupid; it’s just that no one had taught me how to do this thing called multiplication.
Well, today I remembered the importance of math facts. You see, today, by God’s orchestration, my team was put in a barrio that I worked in several years ago. As soon as I heard we were going to Malambo, I remembered the name. I knew we’d been there before, but I wasn’t sure if we were working with the same church, if that church we helped start several years ago even existed, or if this was a new area, a new attempt at starting a church.
Our team gathered out in the open under a tree. We started to divide into teams, matching the translators with the North Americans, and then matching up the national workers with the North American / translator teams. Then a young lady came over to me with a translator. “I remember you. You came to my house, and you have a daughter named Amber.” Now, I must say that I didn’t have a clue who that girl was; I wish I had that kind of memory, but I do not. I looked at her with amazement. “Yes, yes I do have a daughter! She is with me again, but she is working in a different barrio this week on a different team.” The girl went on to say that I had led her to Christ several years ago. This girl was now going out with our team today, sharing the Gospel. The pastor’s wife then filled me in on the rest of the story. This new mission site where we were working is now a 2nd generation church. The church we helped start a few years ago was now working to start a new church deeper in the same barrio.
That, my friends is called spiritual multiplication. God used me to help start a little mission church about three or four years ago. Now, that church is helping to start another. Our evening service, which met under that same tree and started just as the storm was rolling in, saw at least six “Yo Soy Segundo” (I Am Second) groups started. Not counting the North Americans and the translators, we had at least 24 people in attendance in this new area of the Malambo that we were working.
Let me tell you about another amazing multiplication story. The second house I went to had one man, sitting there watching tv and eating. “Do you have anyone else in the home that can come listen?” I asked. Within a few minutes, he had gathered up his mom, dad, brothers, and (I believe) sister-in-law. I was able to share Christ with this family. They were familiar with the story of Jesus’ death on the cross and rising from the dead. Most Colombians are. However, when it came time to ask them if they met Jesus at heaven’s gates and were asked, “Why should I let you into heaven?” all seven people had a different answer, and none of them were the right answer. It was so amazing to sit there and share with them from God’s word how it was simple faith in Christ, asking Him for forgiveness of sins, and giving Him control. I explained that Jesus did all the work on the cross, and we only needed to accept for ourselves this free gift of forgiveness. This family got it. They really got it. They each prayed and asked Jesus Christ to come into their life and be Lord.
I spent some time training them on how to share this newfound faith with others using a great tool called the E-Card (www.EvangeCube.org). We practiced together, and with God’s perfect timing once again, yet another family member walked over and sat down, listening intently as the various family members were working through the E-Card and learning how to use it. I then asked one of the adult sons to share the Gospel message with his brother. Astounded, I watched as this new Christian, minutes old in Christ, led his brother in the plan of salvation. That, my friends, again, is called spiritual multiplication.
I think as an adult I have an inner fear that one day I’ll forget those math facts that I worked so hard to memorize as a child. You know, if you don’t use them very much, sometimes it’s a bit harder to recall the down the road. So quite frequently, and this is the Gospel truth, just before I doze off into dreamland, I will shout out a math fact for my husband to answer. The most common one I’m drawn to is nine times eight. Don’t ask me why, but it is. Perhaps it’s the one I struggled with the most when I was younger. But rest assured, tonight as I get ready for bed, I can honestly say I’m finally a fan of math facts. They’re pretty cool. In fact, they are part of God’s plan for each of us. We reach one. And they reach one. And they reach one. One by one. Two by two. Until the whole world hears. May we all never forget our math facts.
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