Be Transformed by NANCY REMPEL
My body was rigid with tension as I lay in the sweltering heat of another Pakistani spring. It was Easter 1995, and we had just dedicated our baby, Curtis, in the little church at Layyah, Pakistan. At 40, I still felt like a baby myself as I struggled to raise two sons, build a marriage, and be a mission- ary in the unforgiving environment of the west Punjab.
Some foreigners called Pakistan “the land of
almost” — almost working, almost straight, almost legal. Nothing was easy or straightforward. Making meals was an obstacle course of sanitizing vegeta- bles, sifting flour for unwanted objects, tenderizing tough buffalo meat, and rationing luxury items like cheese. Electricity came and went, silencing ceiling fans and plunging us into a world of heat and mos- quitos. Self-diagnosing and treating our illnesses was standard. Communicating was often a chal- lenge, whether it involved a stubborn toddler, a hus- band with problems of his own, or an Urdu-speaking servant with ideas of his own. I worked so hard to make sense of that world — the nuances of the cul- ture and language. I wanted to be understood and be forgiven for my mistakes. I longed to feel “normal,” trying to get a good night’s sleep amidst a hundred reasons not to.
A breaking point came during that sultry night
as I lay stiffly in bed beside a husband who had no idea how to help me. My mind whirred like an out-of-date computer trying to keep up. Irrational fears, false guilt, and exaggerated responses plagued me. Did others see me as a basket case? Would my husband grow weary of my struggles? I had come to Pakistan to “change the world for Christ.” But I was the one who needed to change. But how? I asked myself in the darkness.
Suddenly, I remembered a psalm: “The Lord is
my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?” (Ps. 27:1). Whoosh. My mind gratefully escaped its stuffy confines and latched onto those life-giving words.
“Whom shall I fear?” I was like a prisoner suddenly realizing the door of my cell was open. I thought to myself, “Oh, God, I don’t have live like this. I am not alone in the darkness. Somehow, You will give me the light of understanding. You will save me from what I cannot even identify. And when you are all this to me, whom shall I fear?”
My arms, back, and neck relaxed onto the mat-
tress. A coolness replaced the sweating. My heart- beat slowed. Hope crept in. Transformation began.
In the days and weeks that followed, I commit-
ted all of Psalm 27 to memory. If a few thoughts could transform my nightmare, imagine what the whole Psalm could do? I went further and commit- ted to memorizing Psalm 23, as well. Over time, I went on to memorize whole books of the Bible. Consume, meditate, renew, be transformed. Rinse and repeat. Full-strength doses of God’s Truth for my weakness and craziness.
Years have passed. Baby Curtis is now a
full-bearded, married man. I have grown up too. God meant it when He said, “Be transformed by the renewal of your mind” (Rom. 12:2b).
If you can see yourself in my story, I welcome
you. Take that verse of Scripture that God brings to mind. Memorize it. Meditate on it. Wait. And be prepared to be transformed.
Nancy and her husband, Don, are long-time mission- aries, having served in Pakistan, India, and currently British Columbia. Nancy and Don are members of Jansen Bible Church in Jansen, Nebraska, but currently live in British Columbia, to care for Nancy’s mother. They have taken the opportunity while living in British Columbia, to continue ministering through evangelism, church planting, and teaching the Bible. Since moving to British Columbia, Nancy has discovered a passion for writing and desires to use that passion to “[showcase] God’s faithfulness in [her] life.”
FELLOWSHIP
FELLOWSHIP FOCUS, AUGUS /SEPTEMBER 2021 10
OCUS, AUGUST/SEPTEMBER 2021
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