A tremendous outpouring of the Holy Spirit followed.  Shaken, but grateful, I started to pray in my’ prayer language,’ and suddenly I knew what the Lord actually wanted to say through t, He gave me the gift of interpretation of Tongues.  It was as if someone gave a simultaneous translation. In a panic,  I said: “Please, Lord, not THAT…” I feared that according to 1 Corinths 14, it meant that God also wanted me to use this in my service in the church.   I had found out that the West Indies Mission was firmly anti-Pentecostal anyhow. I loved the people and the missionaries. I wanted to return as a fulltime missionary working with them. No one knew about this ‘prayer language’ that I had brought along.

 

As the intensity of this experience eased off, I wondered what to do. I decided to be open to my supervisor. I asked him: “please tell me that I am not allowed to use this gift. Then I will be fine because then the Bible doesn’t give me any freedom to do it. Be assured I have not sought this gift!” He said sheepishly “I can’t say that Téo, I am sorry, I have not been positive about this ‘prayer language’ that people seem to claim that it comes from God, but this is different.” I went to the mission chairman and asked him the same. He again replied in a similar style as my supervisor. In the next Sunday service the Lord helped me first to explain gifts in general and this “prayer gift,” in my small Church. Then I started to use it. The people smiled and accepted the encouraging message that God gave. It happened again and again in the weeks following. 

 

One Sunday morning, as I prayed again over my sermon, the Lord said: “Téo, I don’t want you to use this ‘prayer language’ anymore as there grows unrest in the Mission.” I replied, “fine Lord, you know I never wanted this gift of interpretation anyhow.” Ten minutes later, the bell rang, it was still early Sunday morning, so I knew that this was special. It was the Chairman, he was looking very nervous. I said: “I know why you are coming” and told him what the Lord had just before he came had said. His relief was tangible: “Thank God, Téo, I don’t have to stop you; God already did.” He had received word from International Headquarters in the U.S.A. that they had considered his report about my’ prayer language’.  They requested him to organize a conference where I would share my theology, that all the missionaries could ask questions and that we would come to an agreement how to proceed and to submit that to the International Board. I had one week time to prepare and wrote my theology about my understanding of the Holy Spirit. There I was, a twenty-three-year-old volunteer, sharing my views with seasoned missionaries. I still don’t know how I did that. The report of the conference went to Headquarters. 

 

A month later, the founder of the Mission Dr. Thompson, arrived and came to see me. I  prepared myself for a stiff, grilling session. A friendly grandfather type, (I guess Dr. Thompson was in his seventies), sat down and said, “Téo, we have studied your statement, and we agree with you. From now on, charismatics are welcome if they apply to join us. Only while we as  Board have changed, the Mission is not yet ready for you. Some missionaries had to sign a statement in their home churches, that ‘praying in tongues’ is from the devil. As a mission, we still have a long way to go. Téo, I give you the best recommendation you can get for another better mission than ours where there will be a place for you among their ranks”. 

 

The remaining months went by, uneventful. Except that I didn’t get a very positive response from my fiancée. We agreed to put our relationship on hold until I returned. I had met Wil in the Bibleschool. She did her nurse training to prepare for the mission field. We had some long talks after I returned, and more or less decided to go ahead with our plans to marry. She had her doubts, and I too asked myself if her back problems would make it impossible to be a missionary wife. It reached a crisis point for me, as she had 89 days of sick-leave during her training. One more day and she was not allowed to take her final exam. We went with her parents in a Volkswagen Beetle to Norway on vacation. On the last day, something happened, and an excruciating pain made it very uncomfortable to sit in the car. On our way home we stayed overnight in a small hotel in Denmark.

 

I still remember how I went early in the morning to the toilet in the hall, talking to Him about Wil, asking Him:

I was still was madly in love with her. That wasn’t the problem. Could she be a missionary? I  started to doubt this.

This decision came up from somewhere deep inside me. I was shocked. On our final stretch home Wil suddenly felt so hot, so she said:

He opened a window as there was no heater on. For twenty minutes she was sitting there, steaming hot. Then she exclaimed:

I hugged Wil and thanked God for His confirmation of our relationship. A visit to the family doctor the next day confirmed: her back had healed and she could do her final exam. This miracle has, with some other healing miracles that she also needed, carried me through the “ups and downs” of life together.