Changed By Grace

By Byron Johannesen

Shortly before we left Australia for Colombia 32 years ago, on the 11^th of January 1994, we received a letter from a missionary sister on the field. It was a short, clipped message, “Always remember that God isn’t calling you to Colombia to change the Colombians, but to change you.” It was like a knockout punch before we even got started. We were going to convert Colombians to Christ, so wasn’t that to change them? Her words have stayed with us these 32 years and still mean a great deal to us. They were words of wisdom that have kept us in good stead. We are so thankful to the Lord for that piece of advice, even though we thought it strange at the time. We soon understood, and it has kept us humble when we have wanted to feel superior to the people around us. We’ve been tempted to think, “You don’t know as much as we do; we have more experience.” However, we were soon humbled by the fact that “God didn’t call us to Colombia to change the Colombians but to change us.”

Upon arriving, we were confronted with the fact that we were unable to communicate. We had to look at people with blank faces as they joyfully spoke to us, but we had no idea what they were saying. We learnt the word “Gracias” very quickly, but we didn’t have a clue at what we were saying thank you for. Then, as we progressed a little with communication accompanied with a dictionary, the cultural differences began to reveal themselves, and we were found wanting. We didn’t greet quite like we should have. Our kids just didn’t act as they were expected to. Imagine four kids straight off a 500-acre property to a 75sqm apartment in a condominium.

Going to the river for baptisms 1996

We couldn’t dry our clothes, because the laundry was a small, dark, windowless space at the end of the kitchen. One day, Lyn, frustrated with not being able to dry the clothes in the cool climate after three days, asked me to hang a rope in the lounge room window to get a bit of morning sun. Twenty minutes later, Administration was at the door asking us to remove the clothes, as it wasn’t good for the aesthetic of the complex—a neighbour from across the driveway had complained.

There were the rumours that we weren’t of high enough class to be living there. Our kids were hillbillies. I had to retrieve Leighton’s bike from under a car which was coming up the driveway while he was going down. On another occasion, a stone was thrown, a window broken, and neighbour upset.

After a long year of “never quite getting it right”, we moved to Tuluá to a small church with 12 baptised believers. “Remember that God isn’t calling you to Colombia to change the Colombians, but to change you.”

Tulua 1995-96

We lived that second year in the Hall at Tulua. A 135sqm house in a narrow lane. The garage/living area was the meeting hall. Our kitchen was their kitchen, our things their things. We had no privacy; nothing was off limits. We went away for a few days to come home to an old uncle of one of the believers who lived upstairs, with his bed set up in our garage/living room.

We soon realised that we were now the local branch of the Bank of Heaven, and I was the manager. When a fellow asked me for a loan, and I told him that Lyn and I would pray about it, he was shocked. What was there to pray about? Then, a week or so later, I gave him half of the amount he had requested, but as a gift, and told him I wasn’t the bank. Some years later, he told me that he was offended at the time but later understood the lesson. We had also become a Cash Converters. We were under the obligation to buy rings and musical equipment because they were short of cash.

Not to mention that Colombians don’t have the same sense of humour we Aussies have. I still get myself in trouble there. I’m a sloooow learner.

In Colombia, the leverage system works well. It’s called “Palanca”. You ask a favour for another and then he asks a favour for you when you need it. Society moves by favours and repaying favours.

Neiva

After 30 years, we are no longer Australians in many ways, and we aren’t fully Colombians either. We enjoy Sancocho, frijoles, plantain bananas, arepas, yuca and mazamorra, yet miss Aussie beef sausages, corn beef and pickle sandwiches, Vegemite and wholemeal bread, and how could you forget meat pies and apple turnovers—to name a few. But we are here, alive, and wouldn’t change these last 32 years God has given us for anything else in this world. We don’t have a sugar cane farm at Gin Gin to go back to. I miss it like crazy at times. I wonder what could have been, but nothing can replace the joy of seeing souls saved from a life of hopelessness to faithful servants of Jesus Christ. There are things that still get under our skin, and we still get under theirs at times, but we do hope we are more like Christ today than we were when we came.

The Lord has allowed us to be part of hundreds of people’s lives. We have seen God build up a fledgling church of 12 to one of over 150, plus three other small churches planted. Then there are those who have come to know Christ in Tulua and have moved to other areas of the country and remain active where they are today. We’ve lost count of the hundreds who have been through our doors, some professing faith in Christ while others have chosen to reject him.

Buga Hall

We could talk about Olmey, an alcoholic and womaniser, now a respected elder, Bible teacher, and evangelist. Javier was a heavy drinker and foul-mouthed adulterer, and is now faithfully serving God. Fernando was a drug addict living on the street for over 20 years, with his possessions in a sack bag and eating what he could find in the rubbish, but is now married and running his own successful business. Ruben, who we’ve known for over 25 years, finally gave his life to Christ just four years ago. We’ve just been a small part of what God has done and is doing. Jesus said he will build his church, and the gates of hell will not prevail against it.

Today, as Australians changed by God’s grace, we work alongside Colombians who have also been changed by God’s grace. There are gifted, passionate evangelists, teachers, elders, and simple Christians who love God with true hearts. They have taught us that we are one in Christ.

God didn’t bring us to Colombia to change them but to change us—and in the process, he changed us all.

“But now, O LORD, You are our Father; We are the clay, and You our potter; And all we are the work of Your hand” (Isa 64:8).