Tribulation Network

Chapter Thirteen

An Open Door

Jerri Tuck

"I know thy works: behold, I have set before
thee an open door, and no man can shut it: for
thou hast a little strength, and hast kept my
word, and hast not denied my name."
Revelation 3:8

We moved to Georgia in the winter of 1974. Purchasing a rambling old farmhouse with ample room to accommodate our large family, and enough leaks in the ceiling to have an indoor garden, we optimistically camped out in a single wide trailer until our grand move-in day. No need trying to convince us that the place needed work. Being acutely aware of its shortcomings, we were nonetheless ecstatic at the potential the old place had. Built in 1885, we just knew God was going to use this house as a place of ministry.

Each morning I would take the older children to school and then take the younger ones for a cruise around the college. As winter turned to spring, we kept up the habit of going to the college. Now it was warm enough to let the little ones run around the school pond, laughing at the ducks that would chase them for their bread bits.

We were getting settled into our new life as red dirt Southerners and yet there was a gnawing at my spirit as I looked each day at the buildings on campus. This was a school that prided itself on tradition. "Oldest junior college in the country," I was told by the postmaster. Driving past the indoor swimming pool I couldn't help but noticing the little frame building that was just across the street. Ebenezer Hall. Preserved because it was the first building on campus, the gray, clapboard building, now looked out of place next to the large, brick structures that had since been constructed.

The two and three story buildings were now classrooms and dormitories, accommodating nearly 2,000 students. Who were all these kids? Where did they come from? Did they know Jesus?

Each day it seemed my burden for the students was growing. As the girls played along the edge of the pond, the students would wave and some would come by to watch them feed the ducks. I continued to send up silent prayers for them. "Lord, please let me reach these college kids with your word."

One day Linda, our thirteen year old, raced up to the steps, jumped off her bicycle, and bounded excitedly into our living room. "Mom," she said breathlessly, "There's a college student passing out tracts down at the school."

"You're kidding," I said. "Did he give one to you?"

"Yes, Ma'am," she replied and reached in her jeans pocket and handed me a small, business size card that looked at first glance like a credit card. Turning it to the back side, I noted there was the plan of salvation.

"This is great Linda," I responded enthusiastically. "Is the young man still down at the school?"

"No, Ma'am, but he said he would come back again sometime. He said he went to Middle Georgia College."

"If he ever comes again, you come right home and let me know," I instructed.

With a sigh I prayed, "Lord, maybe this young man is the key to that college. Please bring him back if I am to meet him."

A week later Linda burst into the house. "Mom, he's back!" Jumping into my station wagon, clad in my chenille bathrobe, and large plastic rollers in my hair, I headed down to the school. It was early Saturday morning, and as I pulled onto the school lawn, I could see the dark haired young man with a throng of kids gathered around him.

Not wanting to get out of the car, lest he see I wasn't properly dressed, I rolled down the window and introduced myself. I guess my exuberance for Christ overcame the strange sight I must have seemed with the huge curlers in my hair. This God-ordained meeting was to launch the beginning of a college Bible study in our home that was to last for many years. The young man, David Koto, was a Japanese American from Stone Mountain, Georgia. He and his Christian roommate George had been earnestly praying that God would help them find a house in which to have Bible studies.

Those were fun years for the Tuck children. Every Monday night the house would reverberate with college students singing their hearts out as David played his guitar. Our children made many friends during those formative years, and they saw firsthand that being a Christian could be fun as well as eternally rewarding.

We discovered that college kids in the seventies came in all shapes, sizes, colors, and clothes styles. Guys and gals both donned long hair, attended meetings barefoot, proudly sported ragged clothes, but all seemed eager to learn about the Lord. They soon began bringing their unsaved friends to hear about Christ, and, as a result, we were privileged to witness the move of the Holy Spirit in the lives of many students.

There was Marcia, an African American. She was a preacher's kid who had become very cynical. She had seen so much hypocrisy that she didn't want anything to do with Christians. Somehow she saw something different in the lives of the girls who were coming to our Bible study. Her curiosity got the best of her, and so she quietly and unobtrusively took a seat one Monday evening.

David glowed that night as he shared the joy of the Lord through singing and testimony. At the end of the meeting, a young student gave her heart to Christ. The room was charged with joy and excitement. Later, as the kids went into the dining room for refreshments, Marcia walked over to where I was standing. Looking at me with an air of defiance she questioned, "What's everybody so happy about anyway?"

"They're just excited about Julie receiving Christ, Marcia. They know that she won't go to hell now and that she's in the family of God. That's something to rejoice about."

Turning swiftly on her heels, Marcia stormed out of the house. One of the girls who invited her was quick to apologize for Marcia's behavior. I quickly told her not to worry about it. Hoping to encourage this young fisherman, I told her we would just keep on praying for Marcia, and show her lots of love. It was obvious that the Lord was working on the preacher's daughter.

A few nights later I went to the girl’s dorm to visit Marcia. Although somewhat surprised, but obviously pleased that I had come to see her, Marcia began to tell me about the people in her life who had disappointed her. She let me know, in no uncertain terms, that she thought nearly all Christians were just playing games, and she didn't want any part of it.

As I left her room that evening, I hugged her. "Marcia, you might as well quit fighting God. He loves you, and He'll win in the end."

The next Monday evening I was elated to see Marcia walk in with a group of girls. As the Bible study got underway I could see, by the expression on her face that Marcia was listening with her heart. The Lord was working.

Prior to the Bible study, one of Marcia's friends told me that Marcia was a communications major. Now it just so happened that during that stage of my life, I was a disc jockey at a local Christian radio station. (Isn't that just like God?) "Marcia, after refreshments tonight, would you like to go with me to the radio station and see how I make commercials?"

She jumped at the invitation!Headset on, microphone in front of her, Marcia had a ball recording a commercial with me. Later, sitting on the front steps of the small radio station we looked up at the stars and in the quietness of the evening I once again shared about the love of Jesus.

Dropping Marcia off at the college that night, my heart was singing. I knew she wasn't far from the kingdom. I didn't have to wait long. Around midnight the phone rang. "Mrs. Tuck? It's me. Marcia. I just wanted you to know that I've asked Jesus into my heart tonight."

From that night on Marcia became a part of the family....along with Steve, Solomon, Butch, Cammie, Susan, Jody and many others. Together, we attended church, butchered a hog, enjoyed hayrides and barbecues, and even worked together remodeling one of our bedrooms. As the fellows nailed up paneling, the girls, along with our children, wrote messages for posterity on the walls that were being covered.....Jesus loves you.....The Lord is coming.....Repent and be saved.

Then the foreign students began to come. Several people in administration at the college learned there was an open door of love at the Tuck home. We started getting calls to house students during breaks between quarters and other vacation times. Kids with no place to go.

They were from Iran, Iraq, Columbia, China, Japan and Kuwait. Our children learned what it meant to entertain angels unaware. Since most of the students were guys that stayed with us, our son Jeff really learned the principal of denying self through those years. Sometimes it was tough giving up his limited space, especially when the guys would keep him up all night talking. But we were into a family ministry, and he and his sisters did it cheerfully. I believe when our kids get to heaven, they will receive some unexpected rewards for their willingness to share.

I'll never forget a student named Amir. He was one of Jeff's roommates who, seemingly, had his days and nights mixed up. Since he stayed with us during the Iranian hostage crisis, I think a lot of his sleeplessness was due to his anxiety over this situation.

Upon his arrival I quickly explained where the refrigerator and bathroom were, and that our house was his house. As I started to dash out the door to keep a real estate appointment I heard, "Wait!" Amir's thick foreign accent couldn't disguise the fear in his voice. "Aren't you going to lock the house?"

And then I understood. Amir was truly afraid. Our country and Iran were definitely at odds and he was filled with apprehension. "Oh no," I assured him. "No one will hurt you here. We love you. Our people will not do anything to harm you."

In spite of our constant assurances, Amir would stay awake all night and sleep during the day. He just couldn't shake his feelings of anxiety...not even when we took him Christmas caroling with a group of Christian Air Force men dressed in civilian clothes. He was terrified that they would find out he was from Iran. "They love Jesus, Amir." I said, trying to encourage him. "They would never hurt you."

Another student from Iran was Jaffar. The love of Jesus was able to overcome his Islamic prejudices, and one evening we were privileged to kneel with him at our sofa, while he asked Jesus to be his Savior. Presently Jaffar is working as an electrical engineer in New Mexico. He is married and is the proud father of three beautiful children. He smilingly confessed to me during his last visit, "Jerri, I thought that everyone in America was a Christian. Since kids at the college drank, I thought that all Christians drank. I didn't know what real Christians were until I met you and Charlie.

You have changed my life. I will always be so grateful."

Jaffar, I'm the one who is grateful. Grateful for an open door at our junior college. Grateful there were Christian young people who had a burden for their peers. Grateful for Ma George, your dorm mother, who encouraged the young Islamic men under her charge to "go out to the Tucks."

Since the hostage crisis has ended, Iranian students are no longer able to attend our college in Cochran. Has Iran heard about Jesus because of the Jaffar's and Amir's who came to our home?

Fellow fisherman, Cochran may be small-town USA, but with God there are no little places. You may be in an obscure little town in Nebraska, but if God is giving you an open door, go through it. Your fishing hole may be a vast metropolis like New York. It matters not. Just be faithful to cast out your line. Be a fisher of men!

Prayer for Today

Dear Lord,

There are no little places with you. You are right here with me in this seemingly insignificant place. I’m so glad to know that you want to reach out, through me, to the entire world. Lord, lift my vision once again. I ask you for the peoples of the world, Lord. I know you can send them my way. And when you do, Lord…I’m ready!

In Jesus name,

Amen

Jerri Tuck –

JERRITUCK@aol.com

If clicking on the e-mail address does not launch your email program, then simply copy and paste the address into your e-mail program and add "Please Subscribe me" to the subject line.




	Chapter Thirteen An Open Door by Jerri Tuck "I know thy works: behold, I have set before thee an open door, and no man can shut it: for thou hast a little strength, and hast kept my word, and hast not denied my name." Revelation 3:8 We moved to Georgia in the winter of 1974. Purchasing a rambling old farmhouse with ample room to accommodate our large family, and enough leaks in the ceiling to have an indoor garden, we optimistically camped out in a single wide trailer until our grand move-in day. No need trying to convince us that the place needed work. Being acutely aware of its shortcomings, we were nonetheless ecstatic at the potential the old place had. Built in 1885, we just knew God was going to use this house as a place of ministry. Each morning I would take the older children to school and then take the younger ones for a cruise around the college. As winter turned to spring, we kept up the habit of going to the college. Now it was warm enough to let the little ones run around the school pond, laughing at the ducks that would chase them for their bread bits. We were getting settled into our new life as red dirt Southerners and yet there was a gnawing at my spirit as I looked each day at the buildings on campus. This was a school that prided itself on tradition. "Oldest junior college in the country," I was told by the postmaster. Driving past the indoor swimming pool I couldn't help but noticing the little frame building that was just across the street. Ebenezer Hall. Preserved because it was the first building on campus, the gray, clapboard building, now looked out of place next to the large, brick structures that had since been constructed. The two and three story buildings were now classrooms and dormitories, accommodating nearly 2,000 students. Who were all these kids? Where did they come from? Did they know Jesus? Each day it seemed my burden for the students was growing. As the girls played along the edge of the pond, the students would wave and some would come by to watch them feed the ducks. I continued to send up silent prayers for them. "Lord, please let me reach these college kids with your word." One day Linda, our thirteen year old, raced up to the steps, jumped off her bicycle, and bounded excitedly into our living room. "Mom," she said breathlessly, "There's a college student passing out tracts down at the school." "You're kidding," I said. "Did he give one to you?" "Yes, Ma'am," she replied and reached in her jeans pocket and handed me a small, business size card that looked at first glance like a credit card. Turning it to the back side, I noted there was the plan of salvation. "This is great Linda," I responded enthusiastically. "Is the young man still down at the school?" "No, Ma'am, but he said he would come back again sometime. He said he went to Middle Georgia College." "If he ever comes again, you come right home and let me know," I instructed. With a sigh I prayed, "Lord, maybe this young man is the key to that college. Please bring him back if I am to meet him." A week later Linda burst into the house. "Mom, he's back!" Jumping into my station wagon, clad in my chenille bathrobe, and large plastic rollers in my hair, I headed down to the school. It was early Saturday morning, and as I pulled onto the school lawn, I could see the dark haired young man with a throng of kids gathered around him. Not wanting to get out of the car, lest he see I wasn't properly dressed, I rolled down the window and introduced myself. I guess my exuberance for Christ overcame the strange sight I must have seemed with the huge curlers in my hair. This God-ordained meeting was to launch the beginning of a college Bible study in our home that was to last for many years. The young man, David Koto, was a Japanese American from Stone Mountain, Georgia. He and his Christian roommate George had been earnestly praying that God would help them find a house in which to have Bible studies. Those were fun years for the Tuck children. Every Monday night the house would reverberate with college students singing their hearts out as David played his guitar. Our children made many friends during those formative years, and they saw firsthand that being a Christian could be fun as well as eternally rewarding. We discovered that college kids in the seventies came in all shapes, sizes, colors, and clothes styles. Guys and gals both donned long hair, attended meetings barefoot, proudly sported ragged clothes, but all seemed eager to learn about the Lord. They soon began bringing their unsaved friends to hear about Christ, and, as a result, we were privileged to witness the move of the Holy Spirit in the lives of many students. There was Marcia, an African American. She was a preacher's kid who had become very cynical. She had seen so much hypocrisy that she didn't want anything to do with Christians. Somehow she saw something different in the lives of the girls who were coming to our Bible study. Her curiosity got the best of her, and so she quietly and unobtrusively took a seat one Monday evening. David glowed that night as he shared the joy of the Lord through singing and testimony. At the end of the meeting, a young student gave her heart to Christ. The room was charged with joy and excitement. Later, as the kids went into the dining room for refreshments, Marcia walked over to where I was standing. Looking at me with an air of defiance she questioned, "What's everybody so happy about anyway?" "They're just excited about Julie receiving Christ, Marcia. They know that she won't go to hell now and that she's in the family of God. That's something to rejoice about." Turning swiftly on her heels, Marcia stormed out of the house. One of the girls who invited her was quick to apologize for Marcia's behavior. I quickly told her not to worry about it. Hoping to encourage this young fisherman, I told her we would just keep on praying for Marcia, and show her lots of love. It was obvious that the Lord was working on the preacher's daughter. A few nights later I went to the girl’s dorm to visit Marcia. Although somewhat surprised, but obviously pleased that I had come to see her, Marcia began to tell me about the people in her life who had disappointed her. She let me know, in no uncertain terms, that she thought nearly all Christians were just playing games, and she didn't want any part of it. As I left her room that evening, I hugged her. "Marcia, you might as well quit fighting God. He loves you, and He'll win in the end." The next Monday evening I was elated to see Marcia walk in with a group of girls. As the Bible study got underway I could see, by the expression on her face that Marcia was listening with her heart. The Lord was working. Prior to the Bible study, one of Marcia's friends told me that Marcia was a communications major. Now it just so happened that during that stage of my life, I was a disc jockey at a local Christian radio station. (Isn't that just like God?) "Marcia, after refreshments tonight, would you like to go with me to the radio station and see how I make commercials?" She jumped at the invitation!Headset on, microphone in front of her, Marcia had a ball recording a commercial with me. Later, sitting on the front steps of the small radio station we looked up at the stars and in the quietness of the evening I once again shared about the love of Jesus. Dropping Marcia off at the college that night, my heart was singing. I knew she wasn't far from the kingdom. I didn't have to wait long. Around midnight the phone rang. "Mrs. Tuck? It's me. Marcia. I just wanted you to know that I've asked Jesus into my heart tonight." From that night on Marcia became a part of the family....along with Steve, Solomon, Butch, Cammie, Susan, Jody and many others. Together, we attended church, butchered a hog, enjoyed hayrides and barbecues, and even worked together remodeling one of our bedrooms. As the fellows nailed up paneling, the girls, along with our children, wrote messages for posterity on the walls that were being covered.....Jesus loves you.....The Lord is coming.....Repent and be saved. Then the foreign students began to come. Several people in administration at the college learned there was an open door of love at the Tuck home. We started getting calls to house students during breaks between quarters and other vacation times. Kids with no place to go. They were from Iran, Iraq, Columbia, China, Japan and Kuwait. Our children learned what it meant to entertain angels unaware. Since most of the students were guys that stayed with us, our son Jeff really learned the principal of denying self through those years. Sometimes it was tough giving up his limited space, especially when the guys would keep him up all night talking. But we were into a family ministry, and he and his sisters did it cheerfully. I believe when our kids get to heaven, they will receive some unexpected rewards for their willingness to share. I'll never forget a student named Amir. He was one of Jeff's roommates who, seemingly, had his days and nights mixed up. Since he stayed with us during the Iranian hostage crisis, I think a lot of his sleeplessness was due to his anxiety over this situation. Upon his arrival I quickly explained where the refrigerator and bathroom were, and that our house was his house. As I started to dash out the door to keep a real estate appointment I heard, "Wait!" Amir's thick foreign accent couldn't disguise the fear in his voice. "Aren't you going to lock the house?" And then I understood. Amir was truly afraid. Our country and Iran were definitely at odds and he was filled with apprehension. "Oh no," I assured him. "No one will hurt you here. We love you. Our people will not do anything to harm you." In spite of our constant assurances, Amir would stay awake all night and sleep during the day. He just couldn't shake his feelings of anxiety...not even when we took him Christmas caroling with a group of Christian Air Force men dressed in civilian clothes. He was terrified that they would find out he was from Iran. "They love Jesus, Amir." I said, trying to encourage him. "They would never hurt you." Another student from Iran was Jaffar. The love of Jesus was able to overcome his Islamic prejudices, and one evening we were privileged to kneel with him at our sofa, while he asked Jesus to be his Savior. Presently Jaffar is working as an electrical engineer in New Mexico. He is married and is the proud father of three beautiful children. He smilingly confessed to me during his last visit, "Jerri, I thought that everyone in America was a Christian. Since kids at the college drank, I thought that all Christians drank. I didn't know what real Christians were until I met you and Charlie. You have changed my life. I will always be so grateful." Jaffar, I'm the one who is grateful. Grateful for an open door at our junior college. Grateful there were Christian young people who had a burden for their peers. Grateful for Ma George, your dorm mother, who encouraged the young Islamic men under her charge to "go out to the Tucks." Since the hostage crisis has ended, Iranian students are no longer able to attend our college in Cochran. Has Iran heard about Jesus because of the Jaffar's and Amir's who came to our home? Fellow fisherman, Cochran may be small-town USA, but with God there are no little places. You may be in an obscure little town in Nebraska, but if God is giving you an open door, go through it. Your fishing hole may be a vast metropolis like New York. It matters not. Just be faithful to cast out your line. Be a fisher of men! Prayer for Today Dear Lord, There are no little places with you. You are right here with me in this seemingly insignificant place. I’m so glad to know that you want to reach out, through me, to the entire world. Lord, lift my vision once again. I ask you for the peoples of the world, Lord. I know you can send them my way. And when you do, Lord…I’m ready! In Jesus name, Amen Jerri Tuck – JERRITUCK@aol.com Sign up for weekly articles for *JUST JERRI* - just ask Jerri (JERRITUCK@aol.com) If clicking on the e-mail address does not launch your email program, then simply copy and paste the address into your e-mail program and add "Please Subscribe me" to the subject line. Go to..... The Next Chapter . . . . Back to T.O.C.