"I no not want to learn English," the man told Jennifer over the phone. "I need someone to explain the Bible to me, in Italian."

When we first met, Vittorio held a Jehovah Witness Bible and explained, "I started at Genesis and now I am reading the Psalms."

"You've read a lot," I said, impressed.
"But I understand nothing!" he said. "I need someone to teach me."

Feeling like Philip meeting the Ethiopian eunuch, I began, "Well, you need to know also the life and teachings of Jesus."

"I did read Matthew, Mark, Luke and John," he said.

That was months ago, and the beginning of many conversations in which my answers were almost always too simplistic for Vittorio's questions. His passion for finding God intrigued and humbled me. When I said Christians pray with faith, he exclaimed, "Yes! That is what I want to learn! How do I pray with faith?" When I said one can choose to live with God or without, he said, "I must live with God because this world makes no sense without God. But how do I get him to arrive inside me?"

Week after week we met, talking often also through cell phone text messages, and every week he had more questions. "How does a god of love allow such suffering in the world?" "I read Revelation this week. I have questions about that." "How should a Christian treat his children when they anger him?" As Vittorio wrestled with God, we walked for hours around our neighborhood in the cold night air or sat in a nearby park.

A very shy man, he confessed one day, "I have armor on. I cannot open my heart quickly." But we all watched as, slowly, his armor began to fall off.

Sunday was a great day. We baptized Vittorio into Christ. He said, "I reached a point with God where I had to stop or continue deeper." As we made plans he said, "At my baptism, I would like only you, your wife, and my two sons there. There is someone else who I hope will be there also, but I do not yet know them well."

"Who is that, Vittorio? Do you have a new girlfriend?" I asked.
"I was talking about God. I am looking forward to knowing him better."

Vittorio cut off his long hair and fasted. His first words as he came up out of the water were, "What an experience! I don't know why the Catholics and everyone doesn't do it like that!"

He then remained alone in the chapel for a while, reflecting on the experience.

An Italian phrase for "to midwife" or "give birth" is dare alla luce (literally, give to the light). We play a blessed role as spiritual midwives when we help people into the light.

Vittorio is now walking in the light of Christ, but his journey continues. Please pray for him.

Thank you for being a part of it.

Gary and Jennifer Williams
Florence Bible School
Italy