Canadian Stephen Smith

The dorm at Wesley Biblical Seminary was not very big. So you can imagine how funny it was to have 2 Stephen Smith's in the same dorm. So the nickname 'Canadian Steve' just seemed to fit and it was as if Canadian was his first name. He fit right in with us. He was very bright and I think he used that to his advantage. Every time I saw him, he was hanging out, playing video games, or chilling in someone else's room. We had several classes together, but one I will never forget was Hebrew. It was me, Canadian Steve, and another student. He was a great help to me. It is little moments such as these that I will remember and think fondly upon. He always brought a smile to my face because he was quirky, weird, and funny. Stephen - you will be remembered not only for these traits, but for your love of Christ. A love that took you across the sea to spread the message of the Gospel. Your life was cut too short, but you went as one who was faithful to their calling.

Often when we hear about Missionaries who die on the field we only think of those in the past, or maybe those who are older in years. People are still giving their lives for the sake of Christ, even young people. See you on the other side Canadian Steve.

Below is a piece of writing that Stephen Smith left us with: This and so much more.

'Send me!'. Shall I go? Shall I dare to claim a faith that seems so high, so courageous? I have not the portfolio of Jeremiah nor the ascention of Isaiah. I'm not wet - like Jonah.

Shall I really dare to simply put one step in front of the other as if I, like some weathered patriarch, can claim the legacy of the ages, the mantle of service to the Most High? Shall I walk resolutely like they who endured the harshest tests and miraculous circumstances?

Who am I to claim divine sponsorship? Do I really believe I should be written (etched in stone!) in the annals of faith - me, a weak, failing student who is likely as not to bring the whole thing down on my own head? The arrogance! To claim such a heritage! I should rather go home and leave the work to those truly called, to those found in auspicious occasions!

But I can no more abandon this quest than Samuel could unhear the whisper. I know not why I should be chosen for this highest of honors, but I know nothing else but that I must say 'yes'.

Don't pencil me in with Isaiah or near Job. Please, if I must adhere to this calling, simply find room for me in the appendix, under 'those who tried their best, but were otherwise unremarkable'. I dare not hope for more.

But to dream of such faith! That I might open my eyes and see His truth laid out before me! That I might open my mouth and speak words that melt stubborn hearts! That I might extend my step in action and find my footing sure, not rocked by self-doubt. That would be a service worth commissioning.

If you would have me, Lord, I will do it. I aspire to your highest calling, because you demand it of me. Who am I to deny you who makes of man - even a man such as I - what you will?