A race well run, my man. A race well run.
https://twitter.com/OpenDoors/status...73447700094982
Andrew van der Bijl was of those 20th-century men that we desperately need to rediscover in our generation. He was one of six children born to a Dutch blacksmith and a sick, nearly invalid mother. Born in 1928, he experienced the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands. After the war, he enlisted in the Royal Netherlands East Indies Army in 1946, joining the forces that sought to retake Dutch control of Indonesia, which ultimately failed.
The violence he saw and carried out in the colonial army left him haunted so much so that he began pouring over the Bible to deal with the emotional pain and guilt he felt. He committed himself to following Jesus Christ and started Bible school before feeling a call to witness to the millions trapped behind the Iron Curtain following WWII.
In 1955, he used a communist youth tour in Poland as an excuse to enter the country with a suitcase full of Bible tracts and visited underground churches there. In 1957, he did the same in Moscow, then went on to travel to China, Czechoslovakia, Cuba, and other communist nations each time smuggling in Bibles and other literature that could have gotten him imprisoned or killed.
He would often leave the Bibles he smuggled in plain view, trusting that God would keep him safe. Here's just one of many situations where he found himself at a border crossing into Romania with a car packed full of Bibles:
As he prayed, a bold idea came to Brother Andrew. "I know that no amount of cleverness on my part can get me through this border search. Dare I ask for a miracle? Let me take some of the Bibles out and leave them in the open where they will be seen."
Putting the Bibles out in the open would truly be depending on God, rather than his own intelligence, he thought. So when the guards ushered Andrew forward, he did just this. "I handed him my papers and started to get out. But his knee was against the door, holding it closed."
And then, the almost unbelievable happened.
The guard looked at Brother Andrew's passport and abruptly waved him on. "Surely thirty seconds had not passed," he remembers.