I first visited Sioux Falls several years ago when brother Tim Geske suggested I stop by to visit the Sax family en route between engagements in Appleton, WI and Lawrence, KS. Though that makes two sides of a triangle about 800 miles long, I agreed because I had learned that shepherds don’t always travel as a crow flies. They are, after all, caring for sheep, not crows.
When I arrived, I discovered that the Saxes had rented a room in a downtown hotel and managed to get a small crowd from somewhere in for an evening meeting. I thought to myself, “Some day I hope we’ll be able to help here—these people are serious.” They would prove faithful with the labor invested by others here. This is a true beachhead for the gospel.
Years passed. The Saxes, with others who stayed in Sioux Falls for a while and then moved on, slugged it out week after week, month after month. Sometimes, they told me, they would grow discouraged and think of moving on themselves. At times like that, they would bundle up the family and head to the Twin Cities for a respite. And almost without fail, one brother would be ministering the Word. The message would be so obviously for them that, as they headed back to Sioux Falls, the children would say, “That was for us, wasn’t it! I guess we’re staying.” And stay they did.
Then the Good News team stopped to work for a week in Brandon, SD, the town east of Sioux Falls where the Saxes live. Those of us involved with the team wondered if this was the area for us to return for the year’s grand finale. The response from the team members was unanimous on two points: this was hard ground for the gospel, but the Saxes were the kind of servants who were a joy to co-labor with. And from there the Lord seemed to direct every step.
As about 250 eager saints joined to work together in the “Good News, Sioux Falls!” effort, what a thrill to serve with such a diverse group yet hear not one discouraging word throughout the week. And to the team’s surprise, the ground proved fertile, not hard as it seemed in Brandon. Many eager souls were discovered—and are still being discovered—among the thousands of the lost in that city.
Those who responded might not have looked like the harvest at first sight. Motorcycle gang members, single moms beaten down by life, those who for years had been slaves to drink, hard-bitten old timers who initially claimed to be atheists, apartments full of Eastern Europeans who barely spoke English, hotel maids, young families uncertain how they could build a solid foundation for their children in a collapsing world . . . and daily the list continues to grow.
Yes, we met opposition. The police were called on us and threatened to arrest the young men preaching in the open air. Some were turned away from public events where they only sought to freely dispense good news. More than a few doors closed abruptly. And the media ignored us.
Overall, however, Sioux Falls was kind to her visiting evangelists, and we joyfully spread the news across the city. Almost 20,000 homes were visited. Children’s good news clubs were held twice a day in four or five parks. A musical presentation interspersed with testimonies was given in a city bandshell. Others worked the malls, the downtown shops, the festivals and fairs. On the street, in the Old Courthouse, and at a local school, the message was heralded. There was both sowing and reaping. And the reaping goes on today. The crowds of Christians have moved back home. But the Saxes and a few others are still there.
And so is the Lord of the harvest.