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마을에 들어갈 수 없던 선교사들이 만날 수 있는 유일한 사람은 일주일에 두번 닭과 계란을 팔러 오는 원주민 소년이 전부였습니다. 플러드 부인은 소년을 예수님께 인도해보기로 결심하고 전도했습니다. 그런 와중에 네 사람은 차례로 말라리아의 공격을 받았습니다. 에릭슨 부부는 더 견딜 수 없어 선교본부가 있는 곳으로 철수했습니다. 플러드 부부는 계속 그 마을에 남았습니다. 그런 중에 플러드 부인은 움막에서 임신하고 출산할 때가 되었습니다. 이 쯤에 추장의 마음도 누그러져 산파를 보내 도와주었습니다. 플러드 부인은 딸을 낳아 ‘아이나’로 이름지었습니다. 그러나 플러드 부인은 출산 후 17일 만에 숨지고 말았습니다.
그 순간 플러드는 화가 폭발했습니다. 오지에 27살 된 아내의 시신을 묻고 두 아이들을 데리고 산을 내려와 선교본부로 돌아왔습니다. 갓 태어난 딸을 에릭슨 부부에게 맡기고 화를 터뜨렸습니다. “난 스웨덴으로 돌아가겠소. 나는 아내를 잃었고 이 아기는 도저히 키울 수 없소. 하나님은 내 인생을 망쳐버렸소” 그는 하나님을 위해 일어섰지만 아내를 잃게 된 상황에 화를 이기지 못하고 소명을 버림과 동시에 하나님을 부인하는 지경에 이르게 된 것입니다.
플러드가 고국으로 돌아가버린지 8개월이 좀 넘었을 때, 에릭슨 부부도 알 수 없는 병으로 둘 다 세상을 떠나 버렸습니다. 돌도 안된 ‘아이나’는 어떤 미국인 선교사 부부에게 맡겨져 키워지다 3살 때 미국으로 건너왔습니다. 그 후 아이나는 미국에서 자라며 미네아폴리스의 성경학교를 다녔고 거기서 듀이 허스트라는 청년을 만나 결혼했습니다. 수년이 흘러 아이나는 남매를 낳았습니다. 남편 허스트는 시애틀지역의 한 기독교 학교의 학장이 되었습니다.
어느날 아아나는 우체통에서 스웨덴에서 발간된 종교잡지 하나를 발견했습니다. 잡지를 넘기다 사진 하나가 눈에 들어왔습니다. 허름한 움막 앞에 무덤이 있고 거기 하얀 십자가에 플러드란 이름이 보였습니다. 아이나는 학교로 달려가 스웨덴 말을 아는 교수에게 기사를 읽어달라고 부탁했습니다. 교수는 다음과 같이 기사 내용을 요약해주었습니다. “이것은 오래 전에 콩고의 한 마을에 온 선교사의 이야기입니다. 그들은 한 아기를 낳았고… 얼마후 산모는 죽었고… 한 아프리카 소년이 예수님께 인도되었고… 백인 선교사들이 모두 떠난 후에 이 소년이 자라서 추장을 졸라 학교를 세워… 그는 학교 어린이들을 모두 그리스도께 인도했고… 그 아이들이 또 부모들을 그리스도께 인도했고… 나중에 추장마저 그리스도인이 되었습니다. 현재 그 마을에는 600여명의 그리스도인이 있답니다.”
물론 이 결과는 플러드 부부의 희생의 결과였습니다. 허스트부부는 결혼 25주년에 학교의 도움을 받아 스웨덴을 방문했습니다. 아이나는 수소문해서 아버지 플러드를 찾아갔습니다.플러드는 재혼해서 네 자녀를 더 두었지만 이젠 술로 남은 삶을 허비하고 있었습니다. 그는 아직도 과거의 상처로 가슴이 멍든 채 하나님을 떠나 살고 있었습니다. 그는 가족들에게도 하나님을 찾지 못하게 했습니다. “하나님의 이름을 절대로 부르지 말아라. 하나님은 나에게서 모든 것을 앗아갔단다”
아이나는 술병이 뒹구는 아파트 방 허름한 침대에 누워 있는 73세 된 노인의 곁으로 다가가 불렀습니다. “아빠?” 플러드는 딸의 목소리에 돌아보며 울기 시작했습니다. “얘야, 난 정말 너를 버릴 생각은 아니었단다.” “아빠, 괜찮아요” 그녀는 아버지를 양팔로 감쌌습니다. “하나님께서 그 동안 저를 잘 돌봐주셨어요”. 이 말에 아버지는 정색하며 말했습니다. “하나님은 우리 모두를 망각했단 말이다. 하나님 때문에 우리 삶이 이렇게 되고 말았단 말이다” 그는 벽을 향해 돌아누웠습니다.
아이나는 그런 아버지에게 용기를 내어 말했습니다. “아빠, 들려줄 이야기가 있는데 실화예요. 아빠는 아프리카에 헛되이 가신 게 아니예요. 엄마도 헛되이 돌아가신 게 아니었어요. 엄마가 주님께로 인도한 그 소년이 자라서 그 마을 전체를 주님께로 인도했어요. 아빠가 하나님의 부르심에 순종하였기에 이제는 600여명의 그곳 주민들이 주님을 믿게 되었어요.. 아빠, 예수님은 아빠를 사랑하셔요. 하나님은 아빠를 한번도 미워하신 적이 없어요” 그 노인은 다시 돌아누워 눈물을 흘리고 있는 딸의 눈을 들여다보았습니다. 그 날 오후 플러드는 다시 하나님의 품으로 돌아왔습니다. 딸은 며칠 동안 머물다 미국으로 돌아왔고 플러드는 몇 주 후에 세상을 떠났습니다.
그로부터 몇 년 후 허스트 부부는 영국 런던에서 열리는 전도 수련회에 참석하게 되었습니다. 그 때 자이르(콩코)의 침례교인 11만명을 대표해 참석한 지도자 한 사람을 만나게 되었습니다. 허스트부부는 그에게 다가가 플러드 선교사 부부를 아는 지 물었습니다. 자신이 그 딸이라고 소개하자. 그는 “네! 알고 말구요, 나를 예수님께 인도한 분이 바로 플러드 부인이었습니다. 나는 당신이 태어나기 전에 당신 부모님에게 식료품을 배달하던 그 소년이었습니다. 당신 어머님에 대한 추억과 그 무덤은 마을 모든 사람들로부터 귀하게 여김을 받고 있습니다. 꼭 아프리카에 한 번 오셔서 우리 마을을 방문해주기 바랍니다”
훗날 허스트 부부는 직접 그 곳을 방문해 부모님들과 함께 했던 사람들을 만났습니다. 아이나는 하얀 십자가가 서 있는 어머니의 무덤 앞에 섰습니다. 그는 땅에 무릎을 꿇고 감사기도를 드렸습니다. 그 땅은 그녀가 태어난 곳이기도 했습니다.
“내가 진실로 진실로 너희에게 이르노니 한 알의 밀이 땅에 떨여져 죽지 아니하면 한 알 그대로 있고 죽으면 많은 열매를 맺느니라”(요한복음 12:24) “눈물을 흘리며 씨를 뿌리는 자는 기쁨으로 거두리로다”(시편 126:5)
(원문)
“An exert from the book ‘Fresh Power’ by Jim Cymbala” Re-posted from a post by Christopher Alam Facebook 2013
To The Heart Of Africa – The Congo
B
ack in 1921, a missionary couple named David and Svea Flod went with their two-year-old son from Sweden to the heart of Africa—to what was then called the Belgian Congo. They met up with another young Scandinavian couple, the Ericksons, and the four of them sought God for direction. In those days of much devotion and sacrifice, they felt led of the Lord to set out from the main mission station and take the Gospel to a remote area.
This was a huge step of faith. At the village of N’dolera they were rebuffed by the chief, who would not let them enter his town for fear of alienating the local gods. The two couples opted to go half a mile up the slope and build their own mud huts.
They prayed for a spiritual breakthrough, but there was none. Their only contact with the villagers was a young boy, who was allowed to sell them chickens and eggs twice a week. Svea Flod—a tiny woman only four feet, eight inches tall—decided that if this was the only African she could talk to, she would try to lead the boy to Jesus. She succeeded, but there were no other encouragements.
Meanwhile, malaria struck one member of the little band after another. In time, the Ericksons decided they had had enough suffering and left to return to the central mission station. David and Svea Flod remained near N’dolera to carry on alone. Then, of all things, Svea found herself pregnant in the middle of the primitive wilderness.
When the time came for her to give birth, the village chief softened enough to allow a midwife to help her. A little girl was born, whom they named Aina. The delivery, however, was exhausting, and Svea Flood was already weak from bouts of malaria. The birth process was a heavy blow to her stamina. She lived only another 17 days.
Inside David Flod, something snapped in that moment. He dug a crude grave, buried his 27-year-old wife, and then took his children back down the mountain to the mission station.
Giving his newborn daughter to the Ericksons, he snarled, “I’m going back to Sweden. I’ve lost my wife, and I obviously can’t take care of this baby. God has ruined my life.” With that, he headed for the port, rejecting not only his calling, but God Himself.
Within eight months, both the Ericksons were stricken with a mysterious malady and died within days of each other. The baby was then turned over to some American missionaries, who adjusted her Swedish name to “Aggie” and eventually took her back to the United States at age three.
This family loved the little girl, and they were afraid that if they tried to return to Africa, some legal obstacle might separate her from them. So they decided to stay in their home country and switch from missionary work to pastoral ministry. And that is how Aggie grew up in South Dakota. As a young woman, she attended North Central Bible College in Minneapolis. There she met and married a young man named Dewey Hurst.
Years passed. The Hursts enjoyed a fruitful ministry. Aggie gave birth first to a daughter, then a son. In time, her husband became president of a Christian college in the Seattle area, and Aggie was intrigued to find so much Scandinavian heritage there.
One day a Swedish religious magazine appeared in her mailbox. She had no idea who had sent it, and of course she couldn’t read the words. But as she turned the pages, a photo suddenly stopped her cold. There in a primitive setting was a grave with a white cross—and on the cross were the words SVEA FLOD. Aggie jumped in her car and drove straight to a college faculty member whom she knew could translate the article. “What does this say?” she demanded.
The instructor summarized the story: It was about missionaries who had come to N’dolera long ago … the birth of a white baby … the death of the young mother … the one little African boy who had been led to Christ … and how, after the whites had all left, the boy had grown up and finally persuaded the chief to let him build a school in the village. The article said that gradually he won all his students to Christ … the children led their parents to Christ … even the chief had become a Christian. Today there were six hundred Christian believers in that one village, all because of the sacrifice of David and Svea Flood.
For the Hursts’ 25th wedding anniversary, the college presented them with the gift of a vacation to Sweden.
There Aggie sought out her real father. David Flod was an old man now. He had remarried, fathered four more children, and generally dissipated his life with alcohol. He had recently suffered a stroke. Still bitter, he had one rule in his family: “Never mention the name of God—because God took everything from me.”
After an emotional reunion with her half-brothers and half-sister, Aggie brought up the subject of seeing her father. The others hesitated. “You can talk to him,” they replied, “even though he’s very ill now. But you need to know that whenever he hears the name of God, he flies into a rage.”
Aggie was not to be deterred. She walked into the squalid apartment, which had liquor bottles everywhere, and approached the 73-year-old man lying in a rumpled bed. “Papa,” she said tentatively. He turned and began to cry. “Aina,” he said. “I never meant to give you away.” “It’s all right, Papa,” she replied, taking him gently in her arms. “God took care of me.” The man instantly stiffened. The tears stopped. “God forgot all of us. Our lives have been like this because of Him.” He turned his face back to the wall.
Aggie stroked his face and then continued, undaunted. “Papa, I’ve got a little story to tell you, and it’s a true one. You didn’t go to Africa in vain. Mama didn’t die in vain. The little boy you won to the Lord grew up to win that whole village to Jesus Christ. The one seed you planted just kept growing and growing. Today there are 600 African people serving the Lord because you were faithful to the call of God in your life. … Papa, Jesus loves you. He has never hated you.”
The old man turned back to look into his daughter’s eyes. His body relaxed. He began to talk. And by the end of the afternoon, he had come back to the God he had resented for so many decades. Over the next few days, father and daughter enjoyed warm moments together. Aggie and her husband soon had to return to America—and within a few weeks, David Flod had passed into eternity.
A few years later, the Hursts were attending a high-level evangelism conference in London, England, when a report was given from the nation of Zaire (the former Belgian Congo). The superintendent of the national church, representing some 110,000 baptized believers, spoke eloquently of the Gospel’s spread in his nation.
Aggie could not help going to ask him afterward if he had ever heard of David and Svea Flod. “Yes, madam,” the man replied in French, his words then being translated into English. “It was Svea Flod who led me to Jesus Christ. I was the boy who brought food to your parents before you were born. In fact, to this day your mother’s grave and her memory are honored by all of us.” He embraced her in a long hug, sobbing. Then he continued, “You must come to Africa to see, because your mother is the most famous person in our history.”
In time, that is exactly what Aggie Hurst and her husband did. They were welcomed by cheering throngs of villagers. She even met the man who had been hired by her father many years before to carry her down the mountain in a hammock-cradle.
The most dramatic moment, of course, was when the pastor escorted Aggie to see her mother’s white cross for herself. She knelt in the soil to pray and give thanks. Later that day, in the church, the pastor read from John 12:24: “I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.” He then followed with Psalm 126:5: “Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy.”
(An excerpt from Aggie Hurst, Aggie: The Inspiring Story of A Girl Without A Country[Springfield, MO: Gospel Publishing House, 1986].)
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