The remarkable true life story of Peter Newman (Part 15)

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The Donkey Is Going To Be Loosed

Barbara, myself and our children moved out of the farmhouse into a small cottage up the road. I then spent the next fourteen months waiting on God and listening to what He had to tell me. He completely reshaped my thinking and believing and I eventually came back to a simple faith in Jesus. There I was: a failure, broke, almost homeless, an ex-member of a cult, and yet there was God: blessing me! For years I'd struggled and striven but over those months God showed me how to enter into His rest. You don't always have to be up and doing for God in order to justify your salvation. You can sit back and relax in His presence, but when He tells you to move, then move you must. I came to realize that the world is in the palm of His hand; and if the world is there, then I am too. My soul had been thirsty for years and I simply enjoyed drinking form God and relaxing in His presence.

There were external pressures: my business failure was constantly raising it's head and court proceedings were threatened. But in a way I didn't care. I had once again found the pearl of greatest price, and nothing, but nothing, was going to distract me from my relationship with God.

In order to eat, I used to go out into the woods and cut logs which we would sell from our front door. I would take my dog, Prince, with me and we'd spend many an hour talking to God in the forests. Barbara was relieved that I, at least, was starting to see straight again.

God also dealt with the bitterness which I was harbouring in my heart against my fellow Christians, and I spent many hours ringing people up, apologising to them for my resentments.

I remember the first meeting I was asked to speak at during that great cleaning-up period. I preached the simple gospel message and the power of God came down to touch many hearts and lives. I made the appeal and my daughter Elaine was the first to get out of her seat. "Dad, I want to be saved," she said. With tears in my eyes I led her to the Lord.

I spent about eighteen months just waiting on God, learning of Him. Then He started to open doors. From different parts of the country by post and telephone people began to invite me to take meetings, and people began to arrive at the house for prayer and help. It was just like the old times and I was surprised and a little overawed by it all. But deep inside I knew that it was God doing this. Something new was stirring and the feeling in my spirit was confirmed six months later at an International Gospel Outreach convention at High Wycombe. A friend of mine persuaded me to go with him, but I was reluctant. I'd spent a long time in the desert without too many Christians around and I quite liked my isolation. An added incentive to stay away was that everybody there would have doubtless heard of my South African venture and I was loathe to have it all dragged up again. But God had decided that the convention was to be holy ground for me.

The first night I was there God told me to join International Gospel Outreach. I'm not one to join things for the sake of it, but God spoke very clearly to me about it. The IGO is really a fellowship of ministers from established non-denominational churches and it exists to encourage men in the work of God. So I applied to join and they put me, like everyone else, on twelve months probation to prove myslef, and to make sure that I wasn't preaching any kind of heresy.

David Greenow, one of the founders, asked me to say something at the convention. I obliged, albeit reluctantly, and a brother called Eddy Smith, whom I didn't know, came forward to pray for me. He began to prophesy and said that the key that I'd been searching for was at hand. Now I'd told Barbara several weeks beforehand that I was searching for the key to enter into God's rest, and here was this stranger telling me my innermost thoughts.

"Brother Peter," he said, "God wants you to be His donkey. He's going to ride your back like he rode on the back of the ass going into Jerusalem. People aren't going to see you, but they are going to see Jesus...." I could hardly believe my ears. God, ever faithful, ever patient, was again telling me what He first told me some fifteen years earlier. Only this time I bowed the knee and I had no ambitions to be a gleaming race horse ever again. I was to be a donkey, His donkey.

We left the convention the next day and went to a house fellowship in Wales. My immediate reaction was, "God, what am I doing here? It's too much like a commune for my liking." But God knew what He was doing.

My friend preached on the Saturday night and the next morning I woke up and said to him, "Arthur, today the donkey is going to be loosed."

"Well, I'm sorry I shan't be here to see it, Peter. I'm off today." So Arthur went and I stayed behind.

That evening in the meeting a brother looked across at me and said: "Peter, I don't know what it means, but God is saying that the donkey is going to be loosed today. You're the donkey and God's going to ride on your back." Talk about out of the mouth of two or three witnesses!