Some four years later, I came across some Amsterdam drug hippies who were dead inside and desperately needed God's glory. It was about midnight in the red light district of the city that was then notorious for drug abuse and vice. House barges, decorated in different colors, bobbed up and down along the canal side. As I strolled, prostitutes who were sitting in the shop windows opposite, trying to entice customers inside.
Captain John Morson had been visiting an American family on a houseboat. One of the hippies, high on drugs, interrupted him with his stumbling entry. "He had the terrifying idea that his body was separating into different parts," John told me later. "To assure him he was still in one piece I had to stand and keep on hugging him for about four hours until the drug eventually wore off!" Looking up from this cradle of humanity at its worst, we saw a glimmer of hope flickering high in the sky. From the top of a tall building in the distance a giant neon sign blinked out in glowing red letters "GOD IS LOVE." He was!
It's amazing how God touches the lives of individual people everywhere. One hot summer's day, I was working on the North West coast of England in an outdoor witness. A villainous looking tough in his early twenties strolled forward and sat on the sands directly in front of us. As our team enthusiastically talked about their faith from the stand, he drank in every word.
The meeting almost over, the speaker challenged those in the crowd to stretch out a hand if they meant business with God and wanted to receive a Gospel. As this young chap reached out, the words "Satan is my god" appeared on both arms. While he was reading this booklet later, another Christian of his own age went across and spoke to him. "This is wonderful!" I overheard him reply. Later I congratulated him too and he said, "Listen, these words are coming off, Satan is out! Jesus is my God."