The Unsung Hero - Ian Martin, Mighty Man of God!

This space was meant for a story about our Sunday night Royal Law Cell Groups. Unfortunately, we had a few technological problems so it’ll have to wait till next month!

So, whilst dwelling on how to fill the space at short notice, something I (Phil) had once read came to mind - a man’s true strength is measured by the quality of the man stood alongside him when the battle is at its fiercest.

And that led me to thinking about my friend, colleague and assistant, Ian Martin, a young man who I am proud to have stood alongside me.

When he joined me and Sporting Marvels seven years ago he was keen, willing and raw as an onion! Today, he is truly a mighty man of God - mature, strong, committed, loyal, disciplined, wise - all attributes he’s learnt on the journey without ever once endangering his most prized gifts: his big heartedness and generous servant spirit.

In many ways, Ian is the unsung hero of Sporting Marvels, a kind of glue that helps keep all the parts together. I honour him and salute him before you, our partners. Earlier today, Ian sent me an encouraging note with the following article he’d written as an attachment. It illustrates his heart beautifully and if you can dream the dream, I’m sure it’ll bless you as it did me. 

It’s early morning and I find myself walking down a street I don’t recognise. There’s no-one around; the peace and gentleness in the air is refreshing.

As time passes I begin seeing people start their day. They’re all very friendly; everyone seeming to walk around as if they’ve had good news. Individuals, whole families, every person I walk past, has a genuine niceness about them and happiness. It doesn’t seem fake or like they’ve put a mask put on.

There’s something about this place that feels dreamy, dreamlike. I walk to the end of the street and look towards the mountainside. It looks like something off a postcard – it has flowers of every colour and trees all around.

Oh how I love God’s creation!

I begin to make my way to a pathway that bends and swerves its way to the top to six waiting benches. One is occupied by a lonely looking man. He looks like the ideal person to go and talk to. I sit down beside him and like everyone else in this place he greets me with warmth and genuine friendliness.

No more than two minutes into the conversation I realise that I’d made a mistake, and jumped to the wrong conclusion. He wasn’t lonely at all. He was a man very much at peace; able to sit there with all the time in the world without need or problem.

He explains to me how much God means to this community. How the people have come to understand that problems are nothing more than obstacles that can be overcome – he goes on to explain how, over the years, this particular area led the way and became the example for social change in places all over the globe. He spoke to me about how the government, in fear of economic bankruptcy, had cracked down on benefits claimants, even putting some out on the streets. He explained how help had come from the unlikeliest of places – the Church.
People had been fed and housed and needs were met. He explained how this Church was different from what people had experienced before and that it was anything but the weak institution people had seen of old.

He then went on to tell me about his son: how he’d been beset with drug problems, trapped into a benefits system that ensured he had no future and later, ejected him out onto the streets as his benefits were cut.

“What happened to him?” I asked.

“The church helped him, took him in, and in a short time they brought out his potential,” he said. “They taught him to read and write and taught him to dream. They taught him important social skills that would help him achieve his future dreams and aspirations.”

Tears welled up in his eyes as he explained how this was the case for thousands of other people, especially the young. And then he told me that it had been through his son that he’d met Jesus and made him Lord of his own life. 

He explained that when people had problems it was to church and to Christians they turned. They were the people with the answers, and the heart to help. 

I find myself becoming emotional as I think of God’s mighty hand on this place where no-one doubts the existence of Jesus or the power of His message.

My thinking is interrupted as I look down and see rows of buses, filled with people, driving past. I look at the man.

“It’s the last Sunday of the month,” he said, “Thousands of 10-18 year-old kids from all the churches around descend on the EFG Centre to worship God”.

“EFG Centre?” I ask.

“Yeah”, he says, “Excellence for God”.

I shake my head in amazement. This is a place that is prospering, its people enjoying the fruits of real prosperity. It shows on their faces. It shows on the man’s face. Somehow, it all fills me with hope. It inspires me so much, I want to come live here. But I don’t really know where “here” is, so I ask him where are we?

He smiles at me much as a father would his little boy. He motions for me to follow him up the hill. After a while he stops, turns, and beckons me to do likewise. I follow his lead, turn and look down into the Valley.

Immediately, I know where I am. The scenery is unmistakeable. I’m home!