David and Bub

Burned into my memory forever is the story of David and Bub. David knew just enough about Christianity to make him dangerous. He had been reared in a Christian home and had enough head knowledge about the faith but no heart knowledge. He did however bring his partner to the local church in Kaikohe New Zealand that I was caring for. Bub was the youngest of seven children and that is where she got her name from – she grew up with the title that had endured into her 20’s, which is when I met her. She was an elegant and attractive Maori young lady. Their attendance was intermittent over the space of about a year.

David had built a ‘humpy’ on a friend’s rural property. A ‘humpy’ is an illegal house built out of salvaged materials. Actually, it was pretty good! Because they knew a curch memeber they often joined in with the church’s social activities on a Saturday night. On one of these occasions Bub came to me and said that she would like to be baptised. This is always exciting news for a Pastor. I commenced a regular Bible study regime at their home. Things progressed well. Attendance improved. Then alcohol, marijuana and the footy and netball season locked in, and attendance again waned. While Bible studies continued, my frustration level increased.

Being concerned for their eternal destiny I prayed often. On one occasion I was praying for them in my office when a weird idea came to my mind. I crafted a note which said, “David and Bub, I was praying for you both this morning and as I did so I was impressed with the fact that you both will be lucky to survive the next three months. You need to get in touch with me immediately!” I drove the 40 minutes out to their rural dwelling at a time when I knew they would not be there. I poked the note in their door and drove off for the rest of my day’s visitations.

That evening, about 11pm, the phone next to my bed rang. It was David. In colorful language He asked me what the meaning of the note was, and I told him it was true and that he needed to come in tomorrow and meet with me. His response was, “I’m not going anywhere, I’m too afraid to move, you will have to come to us.” Which I did that afternoon.  I proceeded to give them a Bible study of how we are not promised tomorrow that life is short and fragile, and that “now is the acceptable time” for making decisions. His response, “Is that all you meant!”

Six months went by. On a blustery Friday night, they were both returning from the Rawene pub. It was raining heavily and a roadside ditch that would normally be dry was a raging torrent. Their ute span out on a corner and dropped into the raging torrent finishing up on its side. David apparently swallowed mud and died almost instantly. The windscreen had popped out and the passenger in the middle escaped. Bub, unaware of the way of escape, clawed at the passenger door. Later, when they finally pulled her from the ute all her fingernails were gone, testament to how she had clawed at the door. Along with others, I was devastated. For them time had turned on its hinge and become eternity. Their fates were sealed. Of course, I don’t know what Bub was praying in those last few moments. I can only hope and wait for the resurrection. There is one death bed repentance recorded in scripture that none might despair, but only one that no one might presume.

When the family came from Rotorua to clean out the house, they found my note stuck in the mirror. In awe they apparently declared that they had both been warned. I still wonder if my note was coincidence or inspired. Eternity will tell.