A Mysterious Legacy and a Pink House – Our Story continued, #18

During our first term, we often had to tighten our belts as support levels fluctuated in our so-called “pool mission”. More than once the cupboard was bare. And yet God always supplied our needs, often in miraculous ways. I remember one incident when a letter arrived from England containing an inheritance. The letter was from the estate of Gwladys Myfanwy Gellatly. Who? We didn’t know anyone of that name; in fact we knew few people in the UK. The cheque enclosed was for 1500 pounds. Although the letter was delayed due to our shifting addresses, it reached us just when we were in dire straights.

Fifteen hundred pounds was a substantial amount in those days. This unexpected provision was a practical demonstration that our Heavenly Father would provide for us, if we obeyed His mandate. Instead of worrying, we needed to learn to cast our cares on Him and pray for Him to provide our daily bread.

It turned out that Gwladys Myfanwy Gellatly had known Pop, my dad, when he was stationed in England during the First World War. My dad was a reconnaissance pilot flying over enemy lines and snapping photos that could be used by the Allies. He was one of the few who survived both training and flying those bi-winged planes. She had billeted him in her home during his training and when back in England from France. Over the years they kept in touch.

My Father, A.J. Wright

At some point Pop must have mentioned to her that his youngest son was a missionary serving in Pakistan. Unbeknown to Pop or us, she decided to include me in her will, giving me one quarter share in a portion of her estate. How amazing it is that God used someone from another country whose only connection to our family was through my dad, a World War I pilot! And that over 40 years later.  And that she would include his son, whom she had never met, in her will. What is even more amazing is that, in contrast to my Mom, Pop and my brothers were not sympathetic to missions. They thought I was throwing away a successful career by becoming a missionary. 

My Dad’s biplane

How incredible are the ways of God! On this rather astonishing note, our first term of four and a half years came to a close. It was time to head back to North America so we could touch base with our family and supporting churches. Not only did that bequest meet our immediate needs, but it financed a wonderful trip home on our first furlough.

In those days, careful planning of our itinerary enabled us to arrive at certain destinations when there was no ongoing flight available. As a result, we received paid overnight accommodation, In this way we were able to get overnight accommodation in Singapore, Bangkok and Hawaii. Using funds from the legacy and making careful reservations we were also able to have extra nights in Dacca with our missionaries, in Hong Kong at a YMCA guest house and in Japan at a hotel. The whole family enjoyed this wonderful trip home.  

Bangkok temple Tea ceremony in Japan

We arrived in southern California to stay with my Dad and his wife for a few days before heading to South Carolina. We were just in time for Halloween. Stephen, Deborah and John had a eye-opening time going trick-or-treating. They couldn’t believe that people would give them candy from door to door.  

Arrival in San Diego to my Dad’s house for a party with step-sister Eleanor, Pop and his wife Margaret and our three. Dealing with money from trick-or-treating

To ease into reconnection with our supporters who were scattered from Chicago to Montreal, we acquired a used VW van. We equipped it with a mattress and curtains for the windows. With these modifications we travelled relatively easily. We could pull into a rest area and all get some sleep—at least the kids. This was before seat belts and car seats.

During that first term in Pakistan, I had begun to realize that I needed as much Bible training as possible so that upon return, I would be better prepared to help our Pakistani brethren. I became acquainted with an important theologian and apologist under whom I wanted to study. The mission agreed to extend my furlough.

One of those infamous furlough photos. Note that only Mary Helen and John are smiling!

After time spent with family and with supporting churches and individuals we headed for Philadelphia, where Dr. Robert K. Rudolph taught at Reformed Episcopal Seminary. Episcopal and us Baptist? At first the idea of enrolling at an Episcopal Seminary was off-putting, but further inquiries indicated that it was an independent and very evangelical school. He was a student of Cornelius Van Til’s work on presuppositional thinking, which I needed. I applied to audit all Rudolph’s courses and was accepted in spite of making such an irregular request. 

But where to live? We left Toronto in July to drive to Philadelphia. We soon realized that Philly was too expensive and congested so we broadened our search into New Jersey. Surely, God who had provided for our needs in Pakistan would also do so during this seminary time. Fortunately, we found a campground where we could stay temporarily. And at the campground we met a local Christian, Helen Keepfer, who became a friend. When she heard of our predicament, she suggested a house in the nearby town of Elmer that had been designated for missionaries.

And so, the pink house in Elmer, NJ, became a legend in our family. The story of the house was itself a typical example of how God can take a disaster and turn it into a marvelous provision. The story began in the minds of a local couple who often entertained missionaries in their home. They prayed for missionaries. They gave to missions. Then one of their sons became a missionary. They were overjoyed.

While their son was away serving in his chosen field, life went on for his parents. The father was a contractor who had bought a burnt-out house in Elmer with the goal of restoring and re-selling it. But an idea that had been bobbing to the surface of his mind became more and more insistent. He had observed the difficulty furloughing missionaries have in finding a furnished place for a reasonable rent.

Why not renovate the house, furnish it with the basics, and rent it out to furloughing missionaries at a nominal rent? It would not be easy. He had seven children to provide for and help through school and college. There never seemed to be enough money. But the idea would not go away. The contractor prayed about it and talked it over with his wife. She heartily agreed.

In the months that followed, between other jobs, work on number 206 State Street went on. It became a family missionary project. The small-town silence of many nights was disturbed by the whine of a circular saw or the staccato rhythm of hammers.

Finally, it was finished; a bright, spacious two-story house. And it was pink! Some in the town might have called it a pink elephant. Fortunately, many in the local church, catching the vision, helped furnish it.

The contractor’s missionary son and his family came home to be its first missionary guests. Next came a couple returning from the Congo. Then came the Wrights! Yes, we were the third Cinderellas to enjoy this twentieth century fairy tale—a brick and mortar reality orchestrated by God. To be a committed Christian, as demonstrated by this contractor and his family, means to be willingly, hilariously involved in the stream of God’s ongoing purpose. To us driving down from Toronto with no contacts, it did seem like a fairy-tale provision of accommodation for my year at seminary.

Stephen and Debbie adjusted happily to a local school. We adopted a neighbourhood cat. Too young for school, John was in demand by a young girl living behind us. She would come early most mornings and ask, “Can Johnny come out and play?”

Mary Helen got a part-time job at the local hospital. I earned some shekels cleaning the church before Sunday worship.

Another of those infamous furlough photos with everybody trying too hard to smile.

And thus began my third return to academia. Dr. Rudolph’s courses proved to be unusually engaging, deeply inspiring, and very practical. I was able to store away many biblical nuggets to share upon our return to Pakistan. Studying the Scriptures under this godly and quite humorous professor remains to this day one of my happy memories.

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