When we were in college, Sylvia and I committed our lives to being missionaries in Africa. We started our work in 1967. Twelve years later, at the end of 1978, things fell apart. We were not making it financially. The world was in a double-digit inflation spiral, and we had gotten no cost-of-living adjustments for the last three years. Our family had grown to five, and we had only one salary. We “put out a fleece” as had Gideon of old—and the indication was that God didn’t want us in Africa anymore! We refused to accept it and figured there must have been a mistake.
Within four days of reading the fleece, I got a call to a position at Atlantic Union College in Massachusetts. That should have been double reassurance of God’s intention for our lives. But we resisted the Lord. We knew that He had originally called us to Africa and that He had worked things out for us as various decisions had to be made. During that 15-year period, I had gone back to the University of Iowa and earned my PhD in mathematics. Then the Lord had specifically called us to Helderberg College in South Africa.
Dad often said to me, “Sometimes God had to strike me over the head with a two-by-four to get my attention!” I was definitely a chip off the old block when it came to listening to the Lord. Time dragged by. I felt physical pressure on my shoulders that got heavier and heavier. Everything that could go wrong did. I had spoken to my department chair, Ken, about my fleece. He was very understanding, but he needed to know what I was going to do in the future, and whether he should get a replacement for me. We arranged for me to teach my entire year’s academic load during the first two quarters; that way he would not have to find a substitute for me while we were on furlough during the last quarter of the year, or if we did not return, he would have my 1979 classes completely taken care of.
Jerry, the Math and Computer Science Department chair at Atlantic Union College, was getting anxious. He needed to know whether I was coming or whether he should hire another teacher. In the meantime, the telephone company changed my phone number without notifying anybody, so Jerry couldn’t get in touch with me again until early April. One Friday, Jerry got my new number and called me. He urged me strongly to make up my mind whether I would join their department or not. This was when the two-by-four really struck hard. I asked him to give me until Sunday, and I would let him know.
I spoke with Sylvia about possibly returning to the U.S. permanently. She would have none of it. She had covenanted with the Lord that she would spend her life in the mission field. One of the reasons she had married me was because I had grown up as a missionary’s kid in Africa, and she saw that as a step to fulfill her covenant. She knew that I was well known in Africa because when we signed a request to become missionaries, while we were still in college, someone from the General Conference visited and spoke with us, assuring us that we had a good possibility of going there after graduation.
Furthermore, we now had three children, and she was afraid that if we returned to the States, we would be submitting the children to stronger temptations than they would have in Africa. She reminded me that she had made a solemn covenant with the Lord that she would spend her life in the mission field for Him.
I had been wrestling with the Lord for three months. It turns out that my wrestling was to try and get the Lord to change His mind because I wanted to stay in Africa too. The stress this caused me felt like an ever-increasing physical weight on my back and shoulders. I was not sleeping well. After supper that Friday night and putting the kids to bed, I walked out into the darkness. April was a southern hemisphere autumn month, and it got dark early. As I prayed and claimed God’s wisdom, I looked up at the constellation of Orion in the western sky. As it does to many Adventists, Orion holds a special spot in my life. I expect Christ to come through the “open place in Orion.” Under the stars I felt closer to heaven than I did anywhere else.
“Oh, Lord! What should I do? Please tell me!”
Finally, I heard a voice, gentle, but full of reproof, “I already told you!” it said in exasperation. Whether there was an audible voice or not, I’ll never know this side of heaven. Suddenly I sensed that I was in open rebellion against God. I had read that first fleece correctly and had not acted in accordance with it.
“All right, Lord, I’m returning to the States.” Not only did I perceive that voice, I now felt the tremendous physical load I had been carrying for months roll off my back. Light as a feather, I walked back into the house. I went over and hugged Sylvia, “Honey! We’re going back on permanent return.” I told her of my experience that day.
She was stunned—and unconvinced. She repeated her usual reasoning again. We went to bed; I slept like a baby with no worries. Sylvia didn’t sleep a wink. Now she was doing the wrestling. She woke me up about 4:00 in the morning, tears still in her eyes: “Honey! I’m going home with you!”
Wil and Sylvia Clarke, now retired in Riverside, California, still have a deep love for Africa in their hearts.