From my earliest years, I was surrounded by books my grandpa purchased from random people knocking on our door. One of these books was the light blue, bulky Die Groot Stryd (The Great Controversy) with bright pictures of happy people. I remember paging through it carefully, looking at all the pictures. I would spend hours reading the red children’s Bible covered in thick leathery material. I claimed it by writing my name inside using my neatest handwriting when I could yet barely write.

I would listen to the Ten Commandments read from the pulpit every Sunday, wondering why no one ever taught me how to keep the Sabbath holy and why they read the same things every week. I was asking questions like, “Why would God come back to fetch us if we were already with Him?” and “Do bad people also go to heaven when they die?”
Our home was more like a local soup kitchen. We would often have people visiting and eating. My sister and I would spend hours chopping green beans, tomatoes, onions and yellow peaches. My grandma and mom would spend more hours making peach chutney, curried green beans, pickled onions and tomato chutney. People would leave well-fed with a canned bottle of their favorite treat.

When I was in my early twenties, a teenage girl lived with me for two years. She attended my gymnastics club, and I could not help but notice the layers of makeup she wore to prevent me from seeing her black eye. I ignored it the first time, but when it happened again, we collected all her belongings, and she moved in with me. She went on to finish high school, got an education, married a sheep farmer, and started her own business. Having spent most of her own childhood in an orphanage, she also adopted a boy and a girl.

When I learned the truths presented by Seventh-day Adventists, I was in my mid-30s. I was filled with thankfulness that God allowed me to know these truths, and I wanted to share them with everybody so they could experience the same joy that I had.

I began attending an SDA church but eventually found myself wanting to be involved with a congregation that was doing more than just going with the flow. I was upset because the church members were content with playing church, not sharing the good news of God’s love for all people. Both Deon and I wanted to be doing something for the community.

Deon has always been that way. He has always wanted to help other people. As a police officer working the night shift, he would often wake me up in the middle of the night, shining his flashlight through our bedroom window, inviting me to join him in giving blankets, food, clothing and shoes to homeless people he found on the street. We would clear out our cupboards and take clothing from our closets.

One particular evening he came home with a tiny man. At first, I thought he brought home a boy, but I soon realized it was a grown man. This time we gave our sons’ clothing and shoes. The man spent the night with us, and the next day we reached out to a shelter we had been helping with food and clothing donations.
Deon: “I wanted to make life easier for those who were struggling by showing them the love of Jesus. I wanted to tell Bible truths to people who did not have the opportunity to hear them.”

As for myself, I have a passion for coaching gymnastics. During fifteen years of coaching, I interacted with many different kinds of children and parents. Some children acted out because they were neglected and abused at home. I could see the fear on some of their faces as their parents approached. I heard about the fights at home, the pain and the parents’ unrealistic expectations, especially during exams and competition times. I would have conversations with parents, discipline children, and often cry myself to sleep.

So even though the church was not actively ministering, Deon and I began praying in front of empty pots before feeding homeless people. God would miraculously provide everything we needed. We would take the white polystyrene boxes filled with warm, nutritious meals and hand them out to homeless people, and Deon would pray for them before they ate.

We printed SDA sermons and duplicated doctrinal DVDs, handing them out by the thousands. Our small town had a fair once a year that usually lasted four days. It was the most visited fair around, with 100,000 people attending. Many years later, I visited someone. As we discussed spiritual matters, he returned with a shoe box containing those very SDA DVDs.

After doing everything we could in our hometown, including the DVD ministry and starting a Meals on Wheels program, we knew we wanted to do even more. Our hearts were exploding with thankfulness to our Lord for all He has done for us. I realized that God had prepared me all my life to be a missionary and that He had decided I should use my passion to coach people into His kingdom.

Deon was fully on board.

All these experiences shaped us into who we are today: missionaries for God’s kingdom. We have always felt a calling to help others, share His love and truth, and make a difference in this world. We have seen His hand in our lives, guiding us, providing for us, protecting us, and blessing us. We have also seen His hand in the lives of those He brought across our paths, transforming them, healing them, saving them, and using them.
We became missionaries because we believe that God has a plan for each one of us, that He has given us gifts and talents to serve Him and others, and that He has prepared good works for us to do in advance (Ephesians 2:10). We became missionaries because we want to be faithful to His calling, to follow His footsteps, to obey His commands, to glorify His name. We became missionaries because we love Him, and we love His people. We became missionaries because He first loved us.

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