It was the last week of the year in 1979. It was cold, gray and dreary in Eastern Europe. My two buddies and I were delivering a load of Bibles from West Germany to central Romania.
On that trip, the border crossing between what is now Serbia, and Romania was a difficult one. We were very close to getting caught! The Romanian border police right away suspected that we had a modified vehicle. One thing they easily saw (when they measured up from the ground with a tape measure) was that our van’s floor was thicker than normal. There seemed to be no way to access it though. They inspected it inside and out, but all the welds and panels looked original. When they asked us about it, we told them it was full of sound-deadening insulation. (a true statement—it did cut down the road noise!)
They asked us if we had any of the standard forbidden items; guns, pornography, radios, or drugs, but curiously never asked specifically if we had Bibles or religious materials. Romania in those days was very strict about keeping out religious materials. (Incidentally, we were prepared to tell the truth, if asked specifically, but thankfully we weren’t ever put in that position!)
More guards got in on the search, as they became more suspicious. They climbed in, under and around our van, measured it again, and even brought out the drug-sniffing dog. Finally deciding to take a closer look, they ordered us to pull into a separate building. It had very bright lights, and lots of tools.
The actual border crossing location (from Google Earth).
My two buddies and I prayed silently that their eyes would be blinded from seeing what we had. This was another one of those times in my life when I remember feeling surprisingly calm, in spite of what was happening! One of the guards brought out a power drill with a very large bit. He climbed inside, and in no time at all had drilled a one-inch hole all the way through the floor behind the front seats! I watched the look on his face as he gathered up some of the finely shredded pages, and studied it carefully in his palm. I looked at the little pile of shavings too, and I could clearly see the pieces of black alphabet letters on the tiny bits of white paper.
The scene is still very clear in my mind. When he looked over at me (sweat running off his forehead), I shrugged my shoulders, smiled, and said, “insulation?” He was satisfied with that, I guess… because he gathered up his tools and told us we could proceed. I still can’t believe he didn’t see the printing on the paper shreds. I will always remember that special miracle.
God had answered our prayers and caused that man to not see what was right in front of his face!
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