The remarkable true life story of Peter Newman (Part 10)

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"I Can't Tell Them That!"

We were going to live in a Christian commune in Worthing. I resigned from my job; we found homes for all the much loved bits and pieces of furniture we'd gathered together over our short married life. I felt I was responding to God who had spoken to me so clearly and said, "Peter, leave all and follow Me."

The week before we were to join the Christian Publicity Organisation Commune, I was booked to take a week's meetings. It was during that mission that God taught me a very big lesson, namely that we have to be wholly true before Him and before our brothers and sisters in the Lord.

My wife was singing on the platform. The little church was packed to the doors. Barbara sounded beautiful and I was just sitting back drinking it all in when God spoke to me. "Peter," He said, "what sort of picture of you and Barbara are you painting for all those people? Do they see you as the perfect young couple about to be launched out into the work of God? Peter, there are people here tonight who look at you both and feel so inadequate: they feel failures in comparison. There are married couples here who feel guilty because they have so many ups and downs in their home life. I want you to be truthful and to tell them exactly what happened before you came to the meeting tonight."

I held my breath. "But God," I argued, "I can't tell them that. Barbara will have a fit and besides, it's personal!" But God had spoken and I had to bow to what He had told me to do. Barbara ended her song and I stood up, knowing very well that she would lynch me when we got home.

"Isn't my wife lovely?" I said to the congregation. "Hasn't she got a lovely voice?" They all sat there smiling and nodded their heads. "Aren't we a nice young couple, called of God, about to go into full time work for Him, going forth to conquer in His name?" And again they all sat nodding their heads in agreement. "Well, let me tell you something which might surprise you all." I glanced across at Barbara who was on the edge of her seat, looking alarmed. "Before my wife and I came to the meeting tonight we had a humdinger of a row." Barbara blanched, then she gasped, then she stared unbelievingly at me. The congregation followed suit, their eyes darting first to me then to her, then back to me again. I immediately started to preach.

Jesus says that you shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free. Many couples were set free that night. The enemy had had them bound with chains of condemnation. Why, they'd never dreamt that evangelists were just ordinary human beings who did such unspiritual things as row with their wives. I always feel it's very wrong of men of God to pretend to be what they aren't. So often they give the impression of being so perfect and they hate people to discover otherwise. Well, I love exposing the myth. Yes, evangelists are called of God, but they are no different from anybody else.

Jesus said that the greatest among you should minister to others. We all have a part to play in the body of Christ. An evangelist is called to preach the gospel; a prayer warrior is called to pray; someone given to hospitality is to open their home to others. We all have something to do in the kingdom of God and we should never puff ourselves up in the ministry which God has given to us.

So Barbara and I set off for Worthing with only our clothes, the baby's cot, our train tickets and a ten shilling note (fifty pence). We climbed into the carriage and settled into a compartment opposite two elderly ladies. Within hours of setting off in this new life of faith, God showed us again that He is able to meet our needs.

We were all sitting there, gazing out of the windows at the countryside as it sped past us, when God spoke to me and told me to go to the dining car. "But Lord," I argued, "I haven't got any money, especially if we're both supposed to go." So I decided the Lord was only meaning me.

"No," He said, "take Barbara and go to the dining car." "But what about the baby, Lord?" I argued, still trying to wriggle out of it.

Just then one of the old ladies spoke up: "If you two want to go to lunch, we'd be more than willing to look after the baby for you."

"Thank you very much," I said, with very mixed emotions. I told Barbara to hand Elaine over to them. Then I took her by the arm and led her into the corridor. There was a look of horror on her face. As soon as we were out of earshot she whispered, "Where on earth are we going?" I said that God had spoken to me, that we should both go to the dining car.

"But we can't afford to. How much money have we got?" She knew full well what the answer was going to be and she looked exasperated when I waved the ten shilling note in the air. "But we can't both have a meal with that," she said. Now, she knew that I knew that, but God apparently didn't. "God's spoken to me and we've got to do exactly what He says from now on," I said, and off we marched into the dining car.

When we came to our table my wife very wisely put me on the inside nearest the window, so she could sit near the aisle to make a quick getaway! The menu was brought to us. It was ten shillings and six pence each. We ordered two meals while I sat and nervously fingered the ten shilling note in my trouser pocket. It was round about election time and the man sitting opposite me started talking about the political climate of the day. This was my chance! I gradually turned the conversation round to the Lord and explained that one day the government of the world would be on His shoulders. The man seemed really interested and said I reminded him of someone he'd known who believed the same sort of things as we did. It transpired that I knew his friend and that we'd held open-air meetings together some years before.

We chatted merrily away, thoroughly enjoying the meal and the company of this stranger. Just after the ice-cream course my wife excused herself and said she had to go to see to the baby. What a wise woman she is! The cheese-board arrived next. I took a piece and was eating it with some celery, thinking "This is the life," when I remembered that any minute the waiter was going to arrive with the bill. I stopped hearing what the man opposite me was saying. Panic started to well up from where my nice three-course meal was lying. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the waiter heading menacingly in my direction, holding a slip of paper in his hand. My heart was rattling against my rib-cage as, sure enough, he arrived and put the bill on a plate before me. As I reached out for it the man opposite me barred my arm, grabbed the piece of paper and said that he would like to pay for our meal. I didn't argue with his kindness.

When I got back to the compartment I quietly told Barbara what had happened and we both simply sat there, praising the Lord in our hearts. It had seemed like a close shave, but we were both beginning to learn that God is often a God of the last minute. Just when it seems that all is lost, He makes a way where there wasn't one.

We've had hard times since and we've even wondered if God has forsaken and forgotten us, but always, just in the nick of time, He has met our need. I remember once living off a bag of wholemeal flour for days and days on end. We fried that flour, baked it, boiled it. We loved it, we hated it, we refused to eat it, then did so, because we were hungry.
We've had miracles of provision where groceries have literally turned up on our doorstep. God is a good God but we often don't discover His faithfulness until we launch out into the deep, cast out our nets and just wait to see Him fill them.