EnidSong

By Enid Ning

I’ve always had a vivid imagination, but one thing I could never visualize was being married and liking it. Marriage seemed a trap of unhappiness to me. Whenever I entered a new relationship, I’d get scared and cut it off after only two weeks. Perhaps that’s why God intervened in my love life as dramatically as he did.

I first met Henry through friends on a trip to Ottawa. He was Chinese Canadian, like myself, living and working in Toronto. He joined my Bible study for non-Christians, and soon accepted Christ. After that, he and I met weekly to help him grow in his faith. At that time, we agreed that our friendship would remain platonic. We were too different. My heart was in missions; Henry’s was at home.

Then, just as I was preparing to go to missions, God spoke through a defective postage machine.

It was 10 p.m. and I was tired. I stood before the old Pitney-Bowes stamp machine in the clutter of my father’s office. I checked the machine settings for the fourth time, then determinedly sent the envelope containing my missions application into the machine for the twenty-fifth time. Still no stamp.

Surprisingly, instead of discouragement, faith was rising up inside me. Opening my mouth to pray, I said the last thing I ever expected.

“Lord, if you want me to marry Henry, put a stamp on this envelope!”

The envelope went through the machine once more. Ka-chunk!

I stared at the newly stamped envelope in dismay.

“Oh no, Lord! Does this mean I have to marry Henry!?!?!”

After three days of struggling, I finally gave in.

“All right, Lord.” Heavy sigh. “If you want me to marry Henry, I will.” I waited for Henry to propose.

Nothing happened! Instead of proposing, Henry confided that he liked one of my friends! Somewhat relieved, I left for missions intact.

During eighteen months of missions training, I entertained crushes on various fellow trainees, none of which worked out. When I came home for the summer before heading for my first assignment in the South Pacific island kingdom of Tonga, my heart was turning toward Henry. Although that summer we grew closer than ever, nothing was said before I left.

After I’d been in Tonga for three months, Henry called me and said he’d missed me very much. He offered to come visit the following October, which I welcomed, but six months later I received a fax from him saying he would not be coming after all.
This and other circumstances planted seeds of doubt in my mind. One night I dreamed I was married to someone else, and Henry was Uncle Henry to my children! I wondered if the dream could be from God.

Around the same time, I began to receive advances from a fellow missionary in Tonga. I was truly attracted to him, and felt confused as the ties to Henry weakened.

One night I approached a co-worker, Salome from Fiji. Salome had the gift of prophecy, and I often sensed the Holy Spirit strongly on her. Now I confided in Salome about Henry, my dream, and the other fellow.

“Salome, would God change His mind? Would He give me a clear word to marry Henry, and then decide against it after all?”

Salome asked some probing questions, then erased every doubt with her response: “No, Enid. God’s word does not change.”

Walking along a coral pathway one night, the warm island breeze ruffling my hair, I felt a longing to see my home again. Not really expecting an answer, I asked God, “Will I go home this year?”

Yes, came the clear and startling impression.

Excited, I pressed for more details. “Lord, when?”

In April.

“For how long?”

Three weeks.

“Oh, Lord! How about a month or six weeks?! Three weeks is so short!”

Three weeks.

“Okay, Lord.” Small sigh. “Three weeks.”

Back in my cabin later, I wondered how Henry and I could ever get together. Another impression inside told me: You’ll have to go home for a few years.

Some days after my flight touched down in Toronto, the topic came up. I had written Henry about the other fellow in Tonga, and we had agreed to talk more when I came home.

“We’re too different, Little E, and our goals are different,” Henry pointed out practically. “I’d feel terrible taking you away from missions – that’s where your heart is. You should marry this other fellow if you want.”

After this, I tried to forget Henry. He was too practical. The “Henry” of the stamp machine could not be this Henry! Because he was my liaison with our church missions committee, our paths crossed often, but I was careful to be nothing more than a good friend. My three weeks at home wound down pleasantly. Soon I would return to Tonga.

Six days before my flight, Henry started behaving strangely. As I told my father that night, “Henry’s acting like a boyfriend suddenly!” My father just smiled.

The next day, with five days to go, Henry called and asked if I could meet with him. Booked up with last-minute meetings, I could offer Henry only 10 p.m. the next day.

“Ten is fine,” he responded instantly, then hesitated. “I want to talk about us.”

That evening, I told my father breathlessly, “Henry said he wants to talk about us! Dad, what am I going to do? I’m not sure if it’s him anymore, and I think he’s going to ask me for a relationship!”

“Calm down, Enid. You still have a whole day to pray!”

Ten p.m. Friday, four days before departure, came quickly. I still had not heard from God. Henry and I chatted with my father for awhile; then took the opportunity to talk privately. Henry’s heart had changed. When he had realized I was soon to leave, he had also realized he did not want to lose me. He asked me for more than friendship now.

“Have you asked God about it?” I inquired, stalling for time.

“Yes.”

“What did he say?”

Henry paused. “He told me that you would come home for a few years.”

Much discussion and many revelations later, we agreed to “start a relationship.” As I went to bed late that night, another impression came to me: Before you leave for Tonga, you will be engaged.

Even though I was exhausted the next morning, I got up early to tell my Dad.

“Hey, Dad, last night Henry and I decided to start a relationship.”

Dad looked at me loftily. “Enid, true love knows no distance.”

“Huh?”

“True love knows no distance.”

“What? Dad, please, I have no idea what you are saying!”

“You already know each other, Enid. You’ve been friends for seven years!”

“So?”

“Enid, if he really loves you, he will make a commitment.”

I was confused. “Dad, he has made a commitment. We agreed to start a relationship.”

“True love knows no distance, Enid.”

I gave up. Sometimes Dad was impossible!

That same day, three days before my flight, Henry asked me to go with him to visit his parents.

“So, did you tell your Dad?” Henry inquired as he drove. “What did he say?”

I told Henry what my father had said, and added, “But don’t worry about it, Henry. Dad’s just like that.”

Henry’s parents received me warmly. His mother gave me a big hug, and his father urged me to call him “Dad.”

On the way back, we discussed many things.

“Who would be your maid of honour?”

“Who would be your best man?”

The discussion continued in this inappropriate vein until, finally, I could not stand it anymore.

“Henry, do you want to ask me to marry you?” I asked him point-blank.

Henry didn’t miss a beat. “Well, okay — Enid, will you marry me?”

“Well, okay – I can’t believe I just said that!”

And with that, we were engaged!

Three days later, I flew back to Tonga, with a wedding date set for August of the following year. While praying one night in Tonga, I received another impression: Before the end of this year, you will be married. I passed this on to Henry and, in willing obedience, we moved our wedding date up to December 16, 1995.

My leaders released me early from my missions commitment, and I returned home to marry Henry. My beloved father gave me away, whispering instructions to “Slow down!” as we walked arm-in-arm down the aisle. He passed away seven short months later, one month before the date we had originally set.

We’ve been married for a wonderful two and a half years now, and blessed with a beautiful baby boy. God has used my patient, honest and supportive husband Henry to bring genuine peace and healing to my once fearful heart. He has truly given me “immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine” (Ephesians 3:20, NIV)!