It was on a clear morning in October, 1942, when the stage was set to ask for an interview with the director of the Dai Nippon Broadcasting Station. I had been pondering over the thought, "The final movements will be rapid ones," and how God will take care of His work under all circumstances. He will surely help us, if we will only do our part. The "Go ye" must be obeyed, and there is no more time for the how's, why's, and wherefore's. Too long have we lingered in the wilderness of inaction; the Jordan of inferiority complex must be crossed, and the Canaan of heathenism and spiritual darkness must be penetrated. The message of good tidings is always rdady to be delivered, but the people of God have not always been ready.
With such thoughts running through my mind I ventured into the office of the director. I bowed politely, trying to imitate Japanese manners, and said "Ohayo gosaimas" (Good morning) to him. To make me more nervous, he sternly asked me what I wanted. I meekly told him that I was the preacher of a church, and that I had come to cooperate with his government by offering my service to his broadcasting station. I could preach and tell people to be good by expounding to them the precepts of Christianity, and to make his programs more interesting, I could sing gospel songs each time as well as preach. Without showing any apparent interest, he told me to go home and write in, submitting the nature and subjects of my would-be broadcasts.
God directed and led in His work. From that time onward, covering approximately two and one-half years, the glorious message of salvation was presented at regular periods of time. Later a group of a dozen young people from the church presented themselves as The Gospel Singers. They would sing gospel songs, while I would read a passage or two from the Scriptures, interspersed between their songs, with short comments and invitations to the listeners to accept Jesus as their personal Saviour. My solo broadcast as a singing evangelist would usually be fifteen minutes, while the singers would be allotted from thirty to forty-five minutes.
Practically all of our outstanding doctrines were presented to the air audiences in this way. Some of the many subjects given were on the state of the dead, the Sabbath, prophecy and its fulfillment, and the immortality of the soul. God really moved in a mysterious way. The Japanese took great pains to install loud-speakers in almost all the public places, such as the parks, gardens, restaurants, coffee shops, and busy corners or junctions of thoroughfares where many people would congregate. Radio owners dared not tune in to any Allied stations for fear of punishment, but were confined to the local stations. So not only was political propaganda forced upon the ears of the people of north Malaya, but indirectly God's message was being heard by more souls.
After some time I hoped to bridge the chasm between the microphone and the homes of the listeners. Thinking that the supervision of my programs and materials would relax, and having never had any of my subject matter censored previously, I inserted a short paragraph in my talk one day inviting any listener to write to me on any question regarding the Bible, giving my address and also offering to give any applicant a free Bible Correspondence Course. Evidently the Japanese authorities were on the alert, lest they be caught napping, for I was told not to put "any more such stuff" into my program. So I had to be satisfied with the usual type of program.
