Making Seeing Eyes Blind

In the late nineteen fifties, a Dutch evangelist known as “brother Andrew” began smuggling Bibles into communist countries throughout eastern Europe. Since this was considered subversive activity, his dramatic stories of many border crossings became testimonies of great works of God. When dairingly crossing into these communist countries, he would lay the bibles out in open view and pray this prayer. “God, you made blind eyes see, now I ask you to make seeing eyes blind”.  Reading of these great acts of faith in the early years of my Christianity (and many times since) has had a great impact upon my own faith.

While serving on staff at a church in east county San Diego, I was part of a group of youth pastors who often ventured into norther Mexico for numerous mission projects. One particular project required another youth pastor and myself to exercise some of brother Andrew’s faith and tactics to fulfill that trip’s mission.

We had made contact with a missionary whom we had previously worked with in Porvenir Mexico, a small community south of Tecate. This trip would involve taking a bus load of teenagers to this remote area to provide clothes and Christmas gifts to the children, build playground equipment in their local park, distribute food to those living in a nearby dump, and last of all to rebuild the roof on a home of an eighty-year-old woman who lived in Porvenir.  When we visited this home with Marcos the local missionary, we noted the dirt floors, lack of any window coverings (no glass), absence of any plumbing, and a roof boasting holes the size of basketballs. The roof would be the project we would take on. It was obvious that it would take a completely new roof, from rafters to plywood to roofing material.

There was more to complicate this project than just rebuilding the roof, it would also take “smuggling” the building material across the Mexican border. We had learned that border agents would either not allow us to transport wood and other building materials into Mexico, or they would charge outrageous amounts as “fees”. Steve was a youth pastor from Fallbrook California. He and I would make the trip to Porvenir in his church's twelve passenger van a week before we would bus the teens down. After removing the seats from the van, we loaded it with plywood, rolled roofing, roof tar, nails, and numerous other materials to replace this dear lady’s roof.  Those supplies filled the van well up above the bottom of the window. (The rafters would be smuggled in later on the floor of the bus.)

With the van filled well above the window bottoms, Steve and I  drove the backroads from North County San Diego to the border crossing at Tecate. We knew this to be a more remote and quiet border crossing and hoped it would be less “official”.  Arriving at the border about midmorning, we saw a line of four or five cars waiting their turn to be inspected before crossing. There was a single crossing lane at that time, with two Mexican border guards working together to process each vehicle. A small building stood some twenty feet back from the crossing lane. Across that lane there was a gate that would swing up and down to allow vehicles to pass or stop them for inspection.

As we waited our turn to cross the border, it became evident that these guards were not taking their jobs lightly. Each vehicle was very thoroughly inspected, including opening doors and trunks.  It became clear that our hope of being casually passed into Mexico was not going to happen. We knew it was time to either act upon faith, or turn around and go back home.  We had already witnessed the Lord doing several things to organize and facilitate this trip, so with the knowledge that He was with us we chose to proceed.

Our plan was this. I would get out of the van, walk over to where there was a foot traffic gate, and pray.  I remember leaning against the large iron fence that separated the two countries and not envying Steve's position at all. As I prayed, I also watch the vehicle line progress. The car in front of Steve was a nineteen sixties white Corvair.  When its turn came, the border guard had lowered the gate and signaled for them to stop. The guard then proceeded to do the most thorough inspection that we had yet seen. He not only opened the trunk; he asked the driver to take numerous things out of it.

It was this exhaustive search of the Corvair that caused me to remember brother Andrew and his border crossings.  I realized nothing short of the Lord working a miracle would get us across the border with our “contraband” building materials. Remembering his prayer of faith, I prayed out loud, “Lord you made blind eyes see, will you (once again) make seeing eyes blind”. Like brother Andrew’s Bibles laid intentionally upon the seat, our smuggled good were open to any inquiring eye. 

As they finished inspecting the Corvair, a phone rang in the building just beyond the gate. One of the guards ran over and answered it. As he did so, the second guard, who had remained at the inspection point, waive the van forward. As Steve accelerated towards the check point, the first guard with the phone called out to the guard at the gate. That second guard then turned his head to speak to the guard who was on the phone. As he did this, the guard at the gate kept swinging his arm in a circular motion, beconing Steve forward. He had not lowered the gate after the Corvair passed, so with his arm still swinging, Steve cautiously pulled up until he was next to the guard. After a short hesitation, Steve continued pulling forward, eventually driving completely through the inspection point.

I was still leaning against the fence near the pedestrian crossing praying as I watched Steve pass through the gate and into Mexico.  The guard at the gate continued to talk to the other guard in the building.  Only when the van was completely through and driving away did the guard turn back to look. He turned to see the vehicle that was following Steve approach the border. As I watched, he lowered the gate, stopped that next vehicle, and resumed his inspections. From what I could see, he never even laid eyes on our van.  Once again, the Lord had made “seeing eyes blind”. 

This powerful work of the Lord was only one of the numerous miracles He would perform that next week when we took some forty teens into Mexico to share His love and our abundance with others.  When we are willing, God is always able, both to make bliind eyes see and seeing eyes blind.