A devout family tree . . .

My story begins during the early years of the Reformation with a family of Anabaptists fleeing to the Netherlands to escape persecution in Switzerland. While there, somewhere around 1550, they were introduced to the teachings of Simon Menno and became counted among his followers. Not long after that, members of the Schmidt family once again had to flee from persecution. Over succeeding generations, they moved from Moravia to France to Prussia (near modern-day Gdansk) before settling in the Ukraine in the 1780s near Kiev.

For a time, the German Mennonite community enjoyed relative safety and freedom. But under the reforms of the Russian Tsar Alexander II, the Mennonites were given an ultimatum—either agree to universal military service or leave. Being pacifists, the great majority of German Mennonites chose to leave.

Persecution moves the family, and a grandmother prays . . .

My great-great-grandfather, Jacob Schmidt, and his wife, Aganetha, made the arduous journey to the US in 1874 a little over a year after their eldest child was born—my great-grandfather, John Jacob Schmidt. They eventually settled near Avon, South Dakota, taking advantage of the Homestead Act to acquire some farmland of their own.

They were a church-going family. My great-great-grandmother, Aganetha, was particularly devout, and she prayed earnestly for her children that they would grow up to be faithful to the Lord. She prayed that there would never be a generation in the family that did not produce Christian workers.

Through the preaching of an evangelist, the family heard about the need for missionaries in China. Several of Jacob and Aganetha’s children answered the call. They received Bible training and left for China—among them, my great-grandfather John Jacob, and his new wife, Maria. They came to the Shandong peninsula in 1906, a few years after the Boxer Rebellion.

My granddad was born there in Shanxian in 1908, the second of two sons. His older brother, Levi, died from smallpox, but my grandad, John J. (nobody knows what the J. stands for) survived. The family ministered through all the changes brought to China by the 1911 Revolution. But as various warlords began competing for power, conditions swiftly deteriorated.

The family moved back to the USA in 1924, eventually settling in Salem, Oregon, where my granddad grew up and went to school. He received training in engineering and found employment working for the Oregon State Highway Department until he retired in 1975. In keeping with the Schmidt family heritage, he and his wife, Lois, were very musical, and they used their talents to minister music at First Christian Church and later at the First Baptist Church in Salem.

What God joins together . . .

My mother, Kathleen, was born in 1940, the middle child of three. After high school, she left Oregon to go to Bob Jones University to train to be a teacher. It was there that she met my dad, Kenneth Bender. Interestingly, the Bender family were also originally of German Mennonite extraction from Switzerland.

My dad’s mother, Anne Lowson Reid, was born in Scotland. Her family emigrated to Canada when she was just two years old. She met my granddad, Forrest Bender, through mutual friends in Kitchener, Ontario. He was the son of farmers from Michigan. After writing each other every day for a year, they were married and established their  home on the family farm near Grand Rapids. My dad was the youngest of their three sons.

While studying at Bob Jones University, Kenneth felt God’s call on his life concerning missions. He took two mission trips while a student—first to Central America and then in the following year to Scotland, the land of his mother’s birth.

At the same time, a Scottish evangelist named Dr. James Stewart was in the USA, visiting Bible schools and seeking to encourage graduates to consider coming to Scotland to revitalize the church. He himself had been a missionary in Eastern Europe during the 1930s between the wars and authored several books on topics relating to evangelism and revival.

My parents were part of the first team of Christian workers Dr. Stewart brought back to the UK. They made their base in Berwick-upon-Tweed where I was born in 1965. The members of the original team split up into different areas of ministry with my parents settling across the border into Scotland in the little fishing town of Eyemouth on the North Sea coast.

Fruitfulness is slow . . .

It was a small, tight-knit community where everybody knew everybody. You quickly learned never to say anything about anyone because you never knew who was related to whom. The townspeople already had all the family and social connections they needed, so my parents were the outsiders coming in. They worked there for three years trying to establish a foothold for the Gospel in the town, but seemingly to no avail.

They were discouraged when they returned home to the States for their first furlough and wondered if they should even attempt to go back. While in the States, they stayed for several weeks at my granddad’s beautiful house in Salem. Drawing on his childhood memories of time spent in China, he had filled his extensive garden with many oriental features including a koi pond complete with a little trickling waterfall.

The Lord gives and takes away . . .

One day, my younger brother, Kenneth, and I were out playing in the garden while my granddad was raking the leaves. My mother went inside briefly to check on the laundry. Kenneth was a very fast crawler. In the short time my mother was inside, he scooted all the way across the garden and fell into the koi pond. Sadly, by the time he was discovered, he had already drowned.

His loss was a devastating blow to the whole family. My parents were almost ready to give up, but they went to the Lord in prayer and sought His guidance. They felt strongly that God wanted them to return to Eyemouth, so they went back not knowing what to expect.

Since my parents could not hide the fact they had returned one child short, it was not long before the story spread through the town. The North Sea is one of the most dangerous seas in the world. As a fishing community, many of the families in Eyemouth had also dealt with the tragic loss of a family member at sea. A drowning was something that touched the heart of the community. As my parents returned to Eyemouth, they found themselves embraced by the community. With hindsight, Ken and Kathy could see the Lord’s hand in bringing blessing out of their deep personal tragedy.

A Baptist church in Eyemouth . . .

Marcy and I returned to Eyemouth in 1998, and we have been able to build on the foundation established by my parents. We rejoice to see a Baptist church in Eyemouth today where people may come and hear the Gospel preached from the pulpit each week.

When I think of my family’s history, it’s the story of generations braving great difficulty, personal tragedy, and self-sacrifice. It’s also a story about perseverance, dedication and the faithfulness of God. As workers together in the ministry, we’re all part of God’s sovereign plan. We are not always privileged to see the result of our labors, but a day is coming when we shall rejoice together in the goodness of God.

I think the words of James provide a fitting conclusion to this family story: “My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing.... Blessed is the man who endures temptation; for when he has been approved, he will receive the crown of life which the Lord has promised to those who love Him” (James 1:2-4, 12 NKJV).