The remarkable true life story of Peter Newman (Part 11)

Photo: www.andyespin.com

God Answers Prayers

It was with great excitement and expectancy that we arrived at the old rectory which was to be our home in Worthing. The rambling old house had been acquired by the Christian Publicity Organisation some time before, but there was still quite a lot of work to be done on it. So I spent quite a lot of time helping to dig drains and do other plumbing work.

We were given a set of rooms to live in. There were about sixteen other people living in the house and I soon discovered why God had brought us to live in a commune. Living with a group of people isn't very easy. We're all different; we all have different personalities and quirks of character. More often than not we think it's the other fellow who's wrong and that God really ought to do a work in his heart, but all the time God is asking us to look at ourselves first. Living in close daily contact with others reveals what's in our own hearts and lives. I remember once hearing it said that if someone rubs you up the wrong way, then you're the one at fault because you shouldn't have a wrong way to be rubbed up! Well, God took us to Worthing to teach us a few lessons. Looking back, I don't feel that we contributed much to the spiritual life of the commune; but it was a good training ground for our souls!

As soon as we arrived, we were introduced to the other members of the household. I was to be one of two full-time evangelists, and as soon as I met the other one, I knew I couldn't stand him. The feeling seemed to be mutual: we just couldn't get along together. Whether it was jealousy or plain strife, I don't know, but my heart sank when I discovered that we were expected to minister together and do our share of drain-digging together, too. Something about the man irritated me beyond measure. I knew the scriptures about loving one another, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

So there was I, the anointed, spiritual evangelist, seething because this other fellow even existed. As far as I was concerned, he was pig-headed, unteachable and unbearable. The fault lay entirely at his door: Peter Newman, I told myself, could get along with anyone and everyone, and if he couldn't, then the other chap was to blame.

Once the seeds of strife were sown, an evil root started to grow. My dislike for him became like a cancer which constantly ate away my peace and my joy. His face was before me when I woke in the morning and when I went to bed at night.

I lived in fear of the day when we would have to go out and minister the gospel together. I knew that the Spirit of God, gentle dove that He is, couldn't possibly flow between us: the resentment and dislike would put Him to flight in an instant.

The problem came to a head within a few weeks. It was about four in the morning and I was unable to sleep. Barbara was out for the count so I decided to go downstairs and pray about the whole messy situation. I went into the empty living room and sank wearily to my knees. "Lord," I cried in desperation, "what should I do?" I had hardly got the words out of my mouth when the door opened and in walked the man I was praying about. My heart sank to my knees.

"What are you doing up this time of night?" I asked him.

"I was wondering the same thing about you," he replied. "Tell me what you're up to."
The moment of truth had come.

"I'm here talking to God about you," I said. "I'm afraid I just can't seem to get on with you at all." I waited with bated breath for his reply.

"Well," he said "what a coincidence. I've come downstairs to talk to God about you because I can't seem to get on with you either." We both began to laugh. Then we cried. Then we hugged each other and began to praise the Lord. The invisible barrier which had separated us had completely melted away. God taught us both a few lessons that night. First, that we have to bring our differences to one another as well as to Him. Secondly, that the devil loves us to keep resentment and bitternesses to ourselves. He hates us to bring them into the light where they can be exposed for what they are. If they go unheeded, they fester in the dark recesses of our hearts and minds until one day they take us over completely.

We got along fine after that and I felt as if God had lifted a heavy burden from my shoulders. From that time onwards we worked and ministered together in love, and we ended up actually liking each other. He went on to become an able minister of the gospel, and my love and respect have grown towards him over the years.

A few weeks later the Spirit of God spoke to me as I was waking up. "Peter, I want you to go to the Embankment," He said. I didn't question why. I just told Barbara that I was going up to London and that I wasn't sure when I'd be back.