There was a certain older man, German by birth, who received a message from God. I know not if it came to him in a dream, a voice, a vision, or by some other means. Was he in Germany, The Netherlands, or elsewhere? The details are lost to me.
God told the man that he was to be baptized, that he was to go to the Central Station in The Hague and to wait. The man prepared a bag packing a long white robe and everything else he thought he needed for this day appointed by God in his life.
There was another man, quite young, who recently called on the name of Jesus and was saved. The young man had a passion for sharing the good news that Jesus could make other people new and change their lives. Jesus did this for him and, the young man was certain, wanted to do this for others in his home city. In order to share, the young man joined a small group from his church that walked the streets of the city in pairs stopping to talk, to listen, and to speak of Jesus to any who would listen.
So it came to pass, that the young man entered the train station only a few blocks from where he worshiped God each Sunday. The day was a Saturday, and while many people busily went from place to place with no time to talk to a stranger on the street, those people in the train station waiting for their ride to arrive or for a friend to disembark were idly engaged. The train station was a good place to converse with a stranger about any subject, the weather, the travel schedule, and even the love of God.
As the young man from The Hague walked up to the older man from Germany, they were a study in contrasts. The German stood with a bag on his shoulder, his windblown gray hair standing out even in doors, and his full salt and pepper beard covering half his face. Clean shaven from the tip of his chin to the top of his head, the young man asked the older if he knew about Jesus.
“Yes, I do. In fact God sent me here today to wait for someone who will baptize me.”
“That’s me,” said the young man.
The elder praised God.
Thus two strangers from different lands met in The Hague by divine appointment. They took a tram to the sea and walked through dry sands to wet by the Scheveningen pier where one donned a white robe. Perhaps passersby stared. Some probably stopped to watch.
I was not there that day, however, I was in church the next Sunday when a video was shown, where I watched a young new believer bless the older and lower him beneath the waves and back up to walk in the fullness of life. My heart strained with wonder.
We never know when God is working, where he might bring us together with someone He wants us to reach out to. Perhaps we have a word, a kindness, a testimony they need. Or perhaps, it is they who will bless us most unexpectedly. I pray we rise to the occasion and give glory to God.
They may not be marked on the calendar or give an alarm tone on our phone, but we can be on the look out for them nonetheless.