Saturday February 20,
2016 The fresh cool morning air in the forest was delightful and the area
around me was beautiful. The monkey’s
played in the trees and even ran toward me and then with a quick jump one was
on the roof! It was obvious that I was
in their habitat and it was without limitations and boundaries! A couple little ones climbed to the top of the
water tank and it appeared as though they had been before. It became a playground of sorts as they
chased each other up and down and round and round.
The air in rain forest is cool and crisp but as we travel
closer to the project the cool air is left behind and the sun intensifies. While I’m here Jaffrey has been assigned to
be my bike driver and he loves to talk as he drives. This morning there was excitement in his
voice and he could hardly wait to share.
“You must be in touch!” “You are
like a prophet!” Last night, when we
left the church, I asked the men if they would return in the morning if it
rained. They assured me they would. It wasn’t a hard commitment to make as the sun
was out, it wasn’t rainy season and rain wasn’t in the forecast. The ground was so dry you could taste
it. As we were riding back to the forest
the sky above us started to darken. I
entered my room and the rains came. Jaffrey
said he had to rush back to his house to avoid the “rain that came so fast.” It is
a common belief that if a visitor brings rain they carry a blessing from God for
the people.
The children were not in school today but people stopped to visit
as we worked on the church. Several were
pastor friends that had heard about the building project and they came to share
in the excitement. One of the village
elders came and voiced his approval and appreciation. He carried the rod of a chief in his
hand. This rod is noted and everyone
knows that if a man carries this rod he is to be respected. There also was a thin older man that came and stood in front of me. He introduced himself as the “first and last prophet.” It was a sure sign that the village had been
named properly. Lukhumbi means “mixed up
people.”
There was much supervision needed as the iron sheets went up
but the workers had an attitude to please and the work went forward. It was a difficult lot to work with and the
challenges were many as boulder after boulder poked it's way through the ground.
When we thought we had finally conquered the task
we would hit a small hard surface which turned into a mountain. We hired
rock chippers that worked all day on the rocks that were in our way. Eugene, a boy from the neighborhood, and a
few of his friends helped carry the small pieces of rock out of the
church.
We hired men to roll some of the
boulders out of the church and the little guys were there to help too! There were so many rocks I even made a
suggestion to the pastor that he change the name of his church to The Church on
the Rock.
The trees near the busy village road offered us a rest from
the sun. People were coming and going steady. Little girls carried heavy containers of water
on their head, a cow or two wandered through and grazed a little here and there
along the way. But almost directly
opposite the church on the other side of road and behind a row of bushes there was a
low rumble of voices, unclear, but they got increasingly louder as the hours passed. The
church was being built in the middle of an illicit home brew area where people gathered frequently to
buy and drink together. As voices escalated the madness rolled out
into the road way as two men confronted each other. The pastor intervened and prevented bloodshed. My heart ached as I thought of these little
ones without food, without care, without a good example and the horrors of home
life that waited for them.
The distance brought another sound to my ears. Drums were beating and voices joined together
in a celebrating kind of way. Soon the small
village road beside us was filled with people singing and beating their drums
as they ran past us. Branches were waved
in the air in a frenzy type of way. They
were focused, fired up as they ran toward the bull fight.
At the close of day we could see a church in the making. There were now three walls that would become
the setting for tomorrow’s morning service. It was a new beginning in a very needy area.
The intensity of the sun has a way of zapping the life out
of me and I’m always glad to feel the change in the air as we enter the
forest. My bike driver, Jaffrey, thinks it
is too cold but to me it feels more like home.
As we crossed over the defined but invisible line that takes us from one
high temperature to a lower one Jaffrey announced; “We are in America now!”
Sunday February 21,
2016 Today I carried a change of clothes in my back pack as there
were 6 people waiting to be baptized. Arrangements
had been made to use the outside cement baptismal of another church not too far
away. This would be a bit safer and I didn’t need to worry about snakes or
other critters that might be lurking around the river. I checked and double
checked to make sure I had everything needed when I received the message that
we would not be having a baptism.
As we rode toward the church my bike driver, Jaffrey, began to
explain it all out to me. I was aware
that the spirit of jealousy worked overtime in this land but as Jaffrey talked
I understood even more of the jealousy and discord between the pastors. It was another pastor’s paid job to fill the
baptismal tank and he refused to do it.
He even went a bit further and stated that he would fight to his death to see
the church fail.
The area is full of witchcraft and the people are truly a “mixed
up people.” They need Jesus in a
desperate way.
The adults gathered for the early service inside the church while
the children and I had Sunday school on the rocky knoll. Their eyes were glued to me as I taught them “This
Little Light of Mine” and they got ever so quiet as we talked about Daniel in
the lion’s den. Lions are feared here
and stories are passed from generation to generation of the horror that such an
animal can bring.
“Joy Linda” is soon placed in my arms. She is dressed in her
Sunday best with ruffles of red and white. She is not the only Joy Linda and
before the day is over I will meet the other little baby girl as well.
Our plans changed but Jesus doesn’t and the service started
with prayer and the songs of praise rolled out through the open wall filling
the troubled land around us with a new song!
Those nearby saturating themselves with home brew heard something new
today. May they hunger, taste and see
how good God is.
Despite the disappointment of forgoing the baptism it was a
very special day. There was much to
thank the Lord for. Six people accepted
the Lord Jesus into their heart and it was an honor to dedicate precious little
“Joy Linda.”
New Testaments were given out to all of the adults and to the children who knew how to read. The men were given ties and the women received little handmade cloth money pouches. We made sure everyone went home with a gift even the little ones. They were given slippers made by my mom, Charlotte Towne, which will help keep their feet warm during the rains. Old and young alike will talk about this day for a long time!
These tokens of love might seem small but to those living in the village it is gigantic. Village life doesn’t offer the means to get medical care buy shoes, school uniforms or give gifts. Celebrating birthdays and the giving of Christmas gifts are foreign to those living in Lukhumb
Galatians 6:9 And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.
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