Susan speaking with teenage boy at Beaumaris, Anglesey Island, North Wales.

By Susan Shanklin

Have you ever felt like you were caught up in a whirlwind and your feet landed somewhere else? Well, that’s how the trip to the United Kingdom was!

I went from catching my breath after returning from Benin, West Africa in mid-January to being whisked to the land of sheep-roaming green pastures, high hedges, and ancient stone dwellings.

Blinking, I stand in the car rental place chatting with Brian, Tom’s very brave English friend and driving instructor. 

View from the dash of the narrow roads.

Weary from travel, we enter into the very strange left-side driving mode, with multi-lane roundabouts and lanes so close to hedges and houses that I could stick out my tongue and lick the sides! Brian, I noticed, was leaning to the right more and more as we drove to our beautiful first stay in Wiveliscombe, Somerset, England. Indeed, we all survived day one of Tom’s driving. 

Day two, Tom chickened out, and we were chauffeured via Brain. After day three, Tom’s training wheels were off, but my grip on the armrest was still on, until the glorious day we returned the auto!

Driving was exhausting! Tom did his very best. We kept a record of our horn beeps each day to see how we were improving with our driving.

“Keep left” I would say.

“Give way” (yield) I would prompt.

Tom’s reply, “I would do better if your breathing wasn’t so loud.” And so went our travels, squeezing and wrenching through the breathtaking narrow lanes of England and Wales.

Each home we stayed in welcomed us like old friends. Offerings of tea seemed to come first and last during our waking hours. I truly don’t know why those folks in the UK don’t float, taking note of how much and how often they drink their beloved tea. It made me think of Boston. (Smile)

One unfavorable condition I experienced was hypothermia. Just to remind you, I live in Minnesota where it is extremely cold. But we do experience warmth in the springtime. But over the pond, I could not get warm. Yep, I noticed the peeking eyes of the English and “Walians.” I saw the puzzled looks which seemed to say “Why are you so cold woman?” Call me crazy, but it’s April, and I like it warmer, please. 

But one so favorable condition I experienced was the genuine love and hunger for the things of God in the saints. Ever so subtle and delicate at times, they would express deep joy for the Lord. Quiet is another term I could use, but I did hear some loud shouts to the Lord at times, especially from the Roma Gypsy people. Now, folks, they know the concept for volume and color. But I will wait on that celebration, seeing that happened at the end of our glorious adventure to the UK.

Back to talking about the land of the crisp air, stone walls, and pastures dotted with sheep, lambs, and cows. It’s a land deeply yearning for long-ago seeds of revival to fracture the hard frosty earthen sod. How the saints long to feel and see with their eyes western Europe lifting their arms, opening their mouths in unrestrained celebration for God. 

“Where is the adoration and passion for God?” they utter.

“Where is the legacy of bygone revivals of my ancestors?”

“Come forth!” was our battle cry! “Come winds of the Spirit! Rain down Holy Spirit!”

Our suitcases were filled with natural things, but Tom and I came bearing the supernatural breath of God.

“God has not left you! God is still on the throne with Jesus at His right hand. Stir up the gifts that are in you. Greater is HE that is in you than he that is in the world!” we testified.

The five-fold ministry shall arise where it has been so craftily buried in man’s theological death-clasping clench, squeezing the precious blood of Jesus out of the living, breathing worldwide church.

Stand up apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers. We need you ALL for the equipping of the saints. 

The earth cannot wait for men and women and children to step into their God-given ministry! Throw off the anemic, pallid facade of religion and armor up for the Lord!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yikes, that reminds me of the Roma Gypsies—unafraid to show spirited exuberance for Lord. In Slovakian or broken English, their tongues confess Jesus.

Sarah Strunc talking with children at Slovak Roma Church in Derby, England.

I was aided by the warrior Stan Strunc (alias interpreter) to communicate my English into Slovak, and supported by the delicate flower, Sarah Strunc’s prayers.

“Go, my apostles. Go, my prophets. Go, my evangelists. Go, my pastors. Go, my teachers!!!!!!” says the Lord.

Got a Bible? The Lord wants to use YOU!