Letting Go

Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy! He who goes out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, bringing his sheaves with him. –Psalm 126:5-6

Throughout 1995 and 1996, momentum continued to build with HeartCraft and our other ministries. By this time, HeartCraft was five years old, and we employed approximately 400 men and women. The ministry was generating hundreds of thousands of dollars each year in quilt and craft sales—between $1 million and $2 million overall since I first opened the box from the Senders in North Carolina. We designed a large building as a center for all the activity, and a bus brought workers each day from their homes.

Remarkably, HeartCraft had grown with almost no outside capital or investment. A generous friend had given $3,000 to rent the first house that we used as a production center. The second year, we borrowed $10,000 from the parents of one of our team members. We were able to pay it off completely within about six months. A few donors contributed $200 or $300 from time to time to purchase additional sewing machines. Of course, this does not take into consideration the voluntary involvement of other members of our team and the value of my time and Steve’s, but it was still a remarkable story of growth with very minimal capital.

How did HeartCraft grow so fast in an environment where there were many spiritual and cultural hurdles to overcome? There is no question that we worked very hard. We also applied solid business principles from the beginning. Although our overriding motivation was a spiritual one, we felt that God would honor good, ethical business practices. More important than any of these things, however, is the simple power of prayer—not only our own prayers, but the earnest prayers of many supportive friends in the United States and Canada. It was truly a work in which we were stretched to the limit, yet we felt God’s favor.

Momentum was building, but at the same time, Steve and I were having increasing difficulty maintaining our residence visa. This is the document that foreigners living in Indonesia must have in order to stay long term, and it’s something that foreigners often struggle with when they live and work in developing countries. It was easier to get visas in Indonesia if you worked for an oil company or made a lot of money in a commercial enterprise, but even then, two or three years was usually the limit.

Steve and I had been in the country ten years. We had maintained residency in various ways over the years—studying at a local university, teaching at a large English academy and consulting with a local manufacturer. Those jobs normally lasted only two or three years, and we were wondering once again about the future.

That was the “push” toward a major change, but there was also an important and simultaneous “pull.” Our mission organization, Pioneers, had grown rapidly. There were now about 500 workers serving in 40 countries. Two organizations, each with offices in Australia and New Zealand, had expressed interest in joining our international ministry network. Steve was asked to move to Australia for a few years to help transition these new organizations into Pioneers.

Looking at all the factors, we concluded it might be good if we left Indonesia for a season. Steve would be able to fulfill his area director role for Pioneers from Melbourne, Australia, visiting Indonesia and other parts of Asia. We looked forward to the day when we could return to resume our work in Denalia.

The news of our departure hit our teammates, HeartCraft staff and friends hard. While it was not completely unexpected, our move ended up being rather sudden because of our visa deadline. HeartCraft had good, stable leadership with Lia and Dewi. Jane and others were available to help. The time had come for me to support them from a distance.

Steve and I sold or gave away everything we had. We only planned to take a few suitcases with us to Australia. It was hard for me to watch our little white crib go out the door. We’d had it custom made and all four of our girls had used it. In fact, our fourth daughter, Victoria, was still using it—she was only eight months old. Thankfully, it would be a blessing to another young couple.

Goodbyes were painful. Our international team of more than 40 people hosted a wonderful banquet for us and gave us an album full of appreciation letters. Many of our Indonesian friends couldn’t keep the tears back. One of my dear friends wept aloud and chased our car down the street for an entire block as we drove away. My tears, too, flowed freely. Tati, Lili and Karen came to the airport, and it was especially sad to say goodbye to them. I had enjoyed working with them so very much. It seemed like the end of an amazing era—a decade packed full of adventure, disappointment and answered prayer. Things would never be quite the same.

While we were in Australia, Lia stayed in touch with me by e-mail. In one of her messages, she mentioned an incident that saddened my heart. While Dewi was helping customers with an unusually large purchase, she pocketed some of the money. It was not a large amount, but nevertheless she had stolen a percentage of the sale to help herself through a difficult time. Dewi was going through a time of serious financial need. When Lia confronted her, Dewi began to cry. Lia told Dewi to think about what it might mean. Dewi knew that her job could be terminated, even after all her years of faithful work at HeartCraft.

Lia thought and prayed for a few days before deciding how to respond to Dewi’s moral lapse. Eventually, she decided to forgive Dewi and allow her to continue to work at HeartCraft. Dewi was surprised and thankful for the grace that was extended to her. She could see that Lia loved her and was being merciful. I was distraught to hear the news, but Lia had another perspective. “I think God will use this in Dewi’s life,” Lia reassured me. “It was a painful experience, but it may be the very thing she needs.”

In my many conversations with Dewi, one thing she had always found especially hard to accept was the idea that she needed a savior. Dewi had long taken pride in being a person of exceptional moral character. She was convinced that she was a good person, especially in contrast to most of the people around her. She didn’t feel particularly sinful; therefore, she didn’t recognize her need for God’s forgiveness. After Dewi was caught stealing from HeartCraft, a deep sense of conviction settled over her. She began to realize that she couldn’t keep all of God’s standards in her own strength. A longing for a savior, whatever the cost, grew in her heart.

After our 18-month assignment in Australia ended, Steve and I returned to the U.S. to visit our family, friends and supporting churches. In 1999 we were scheduled to return to Indonesia. Our bags were all packed when, rather suddenly, the Pioneers board asked if Steve would consider serving as president of Pioneers in the U.S. We prayed earnestly and felt God’s confirmation to accept the challenge. Our greatest heartache was the realization that we would not be returning to Indonesia and that our daughters would have to grow up in America instead.

In our new role, God broadened our horizons considerably, yet it was always thrilling to keep up with what He was doing in Indonesia. Late one night, I received a phone call that I will treasure forever. It was Dewi, and it was her first experience making an international telephone call. She spoke rapidly because she was excited and could afford only three or four minutes on the line. Dewi told me that she had gone to one of the Kantoli retreats sponsored by Lampstand and given her heart to Jesus Christ!

I could hardly believe my ears. After seven years of friendship and hundreds of conversations, God had finally answered the prayers of my heart. Dewi had heard the testimony of a Kantoli Christian who was persecuted for her faith. She showed Dewi the scars on her back—scars from being beaten for trusting Christ. Dewi told me how the woman was radiant as she spoke. If that woman could walk a road of suffering as a Christian and still be joyful, Dewi wanted to follow Christ, too.

Now she was calling me to tell me the great news. “Thank you, Lina and Steve,” she said. “Thank you for making the sacrifice to come and share the gospel with me. Thanks for not giving up!” She was crying and so was I. “If you had never come, I would have never known the path to heaven. Now I am a changed person forever.”

For several years afterward, we got a call from Dewi once a year on the anniversary of her spiritual salvation! Reflecting on it, I am glad that it was another Kantoli woman who had the privilege of being the last link in the chain of Dewi’s salvation journey. There is something special about a Kantoli leading another Kantoli to Christ. After all, that’s what we’ve dreamed and asked God for—a chain reaction of faith among the people we love.

After her decision to follow Christ, Dewi shared her faith wherever she went. She joined a small Kantoli church and memorized hundreds of passages of Scripture. “I can’t make it without God’s Word in my heart,” she explained to me on one of my recent visits back to Indonesia. Dewi was baptized in front of her Muslim family with many other Muslims looking on. Though small in stature, she is a woman of unusual faith and courage.