by Donna Poole
It’s 9:40 in the morning, and I’m sad. The world seems an emptier place just now, especially at this hour. I don’t know if anyone is praying for me. Before this, I always knew.
Maynard Belt was an important and well-known man. He did major things in his lifetime of eighty-one years, pastored four churches, served as the State Representative for the Michigan Association of Regular Baptist Churches, and did many other things. His last area of service was president of The Fellowship of Missions. I think that was his secret; he didn’t care a thing about positions or titles; he just wanted to serve.
To me, Maynard was something invaluable; he was a friend who prayed. A few years ago, he messaged me, “Donna, I have my watch alarm set for 9:40 a.m. every day to pray specifically for you.”
He didn’t pray just for me at 9:40; Maynard and his wife Ann prayed for John too.
He sent encouraging words, uplifting songs, Bible verses, and funny memes. One meme showed two clothes pins, one dressed as a bride, the other as a groom. They were kissing. The caption read, “They met online.”
With so many friends and responsibilities, I don’t know how he made time for us, but somehow, he did. Maynard kept tract of us, of my cancer treatments, of John’s heart catheterization.
When Maynard was reading R.C. Sproul’s biography he messaged,” I love biographies whether I agree with everything or not. One statement has stuck with me, ‘Right now counts forever!’ Many blessings your way and please let’s keep in touch.”
Maybe that’s how he made time to pray for so many people; he made his “right nows” count forever. As soon as possible after a difficult surgery he returned to teaching his Sunday school class, something he loved. In addition to everything else he did, Maynard wrote books. I don’t know how many. I know he wrote a book on affliction and books of poetry too.
In one of our last chats on Facebook messenger I thanked him for his prayers. I told him, “I wish for just a second we could see the heavenly network of prayers. You should write a poem about that!”
He replied, “Maybe after this conference.”
He was getting ready for the Fellowship of Missions Conference. Maynard, Ann, and one of their daughters flew there. The plan was for Maynard to retire after serving as twelve years as president.
But he didn’t retire. He got promoted instead.
Maynard developed breathing problems on the flight and a few days later, on a Sunday morning, he went to see the Lord he’d loved and served so many years. He never wrote the poem I suggested. He didn’t write the books he still planned to write. He didn’t get to enjoy retirement years with Ann.
In May of 2020 we were talking about wanting to hear God say, “Well done!” not “Nine-tenths well done.”
Maynard said, “9-10’s will not be sufficient. So we will go ALL the way for the Lord for He went ALL the way for us. Blessings!”
On September 11, 2022, Maynard Belt heard God say, “Well done!” because he was a man who knew how to make right now count forever. I’m happy for him, but sad for his family.
As I’m writing this his memorial service is just an hour away. I can’t be there, but I’ll watch on live stream.
When 9:40 a.m. comes around tomorrow, I don’t want that prayer slot to be empty. So, I’m going to try to remember to fill it with the neediest person God suggests to me. And the network of prayer will continue to grow until it fills the sky with an intricate pattern too lovely for poetry to describe.
