This Dieing Stuff

Death is something that has become not so uncommon in my world lately. That is one of the hazards of working in the ER. When I was in school, I was told by many of my professors that when a person is in the hospital, they are likely to be receptive of spiritual things. Many times, walls that exist when a person is well are easily broken down when he is ill. I had the opposite experience yesterday.
When I arrived at work, I received a patient who had end-stage lung cancer with metastases to the liver and spine. She was not responding well to chemotherapy anymore and came to us with severe difficulty breathing and a dangerously low blood pressure. With her family, she had decided that she did not want any heroic life-saving measures taken. In short, my patient was dieing.
During the course of our time together, she turned to me and said “This dieing stuff is hard.”
Being the attentive nurse that I try to be, I recognized this as a prime opportunity to talk with her about spiritual things. I asked her if she wouldn’t mind if I prayed with her. This question usually opens up communication lines as patients share what they would like you to pray about. However, my patient was not so receptive. She said that prayer helps some people, but she did not want to be prayed with.
So I asked if she would mind if I prayed for her later by myself. Her response was the same. She said that she did not feel that she was helped by prayer and that it might make some people feel better, but it did not help her.
It is at a point like this that the four spiritual laws or a traditional approach to sharing the Gospel doesn’t work to well, but I was able to share with her that I know a mighty God who hears and answers prayer. I know that He heard my prayer for my dieing patient this morning and I can only pray that He touches her life in a way that opens her eyes to her need for a Savior.

Which Came First…

I was reading Eternity in Their Hearts, by Don Richardson last night. I reached a section in the book where Richardson was presenting an opposing argument that stated that we, as a human society, came up with the idea of God. And, like us, of course, the idea of God evolved through time. The father of this theory was a man named Edward B. Tylor. Tylor said that ancient savages conceived the idea of a soul because of their experiences with dreams, visions, sleep, and death and their observance of shadows and reflections. As time went on and society developed, they began to develop their ideas of the supernatural. When aristocracies appeared, the idea of gods ruling over spirits appeared. Then, with monarchies came the idea of a supreme god. According to Tylor, monotheism, or the idea that there is one “Creator God” is just an invention of man that was preceded by polytheism.
Later on, a man named Andrew Lang, who is described as “Tylor’s favorite pupil,” came to some conclusions of his own. You see, Lang was a strong supporter of Tylor’s theories, but he was soon to encounter strong, undeniable opposition. When Lang read a letter sent home by a missionary, celebrating the fact that the people the missionary had been sent to reach already had an idea of a “Creator God,” his ideas were immediately challenged. However, he vehemently opposed the idea of monotheism preceding native polytheism, or animism and began to publish more works and speak publicly supporting Tylor’s theory
Another strong supporter of Tylor, Wilhelm Schmidt, was spurred on by the fact that Lang’s ideas were not accepted by the scholarly community. So, he dedicated himself to the study of the subject, with the idea of proving Tylor and Lang correct. He found the evidence to be strongly in opposition to Tylor’s theory. It seemed that “native monotheism” was alive and well and had, in actuality, preceded the idea of animism. Schmidt ended up publishing 4,000 pages of evidence in 12 volumes supporting the fact that monotheism had actually preceded animism.
This anthropological victory got me thinking. Animism is alive and well in most third-world cultures. The presence of spirits and their influence on life and death and the events of every day is undeniable in many areas of the world. Because of this, people have a very strong fear of controlling spirits and become indebted to them. Their lives are dictated by the traditions associated with their religion, not because religion is an invention of man, but because they must appease the spirits. This enslavement is driven by a very real and valid fear of real spirits who oppress.
All of this is sometimes hard to imagine from a North American perspective. Satan also enslaves us, but from a standpoint of denial. We have a hard time acknowledging that the spiritual world actually exists. Satan’s control of our lives often comes from convincing us that that there is no spiritual battle. Therefore we become apathetic.
Satan’s strategy in animistic cultures, however, is the opposite. Everything is driven by fear. It is in this setting that God has called me to work. This raises the question; how am I, an apathetic North American, going to convince a culture that is ruled by fear that God is more powerful than the spirits that they serve? The good news is that it really isn’t my job to do the convincing. But, in my attempt to be a worker worth her wages, I have to make my life worthy of the sacrifice of Jesus. God must be so real in my life that He clearly outshines the demons in theirs. I must have such a strong faith in Christ and His redeeming love that the demons shriek in horror.
“Submit therefore to God. Resist the devil and he will flee from you.” (James 4:7) This scripture must become my life-verse. Lord, please remove my apathy and replace it with zeal for you and for the furthering of your kingdom.

Stranger Things...

A few short years ago, I knew very little about the continent of Africa. I had a friend who had discipled me in high school who was a missionary there, but I had no other ties to that part of the world. It is strange now to think of all the ties I have over there. In fact, at this very moment, I have many friends, and even family traveling and serving God in Africa. Emily, Katie, and Emily’s parents are on a trip in Nigeria (Cameroon’s neighbor and close cultural cousin). They are doing medical work and helping out some of the long term missionaries who serve there. Sharon is serving with the Freisens in Big Bekondo, Cameroon, teaching their daughter Rachel and gaining some valuable insight into linguistics along the way. I am sure that her help is invaluable to the Scots and Freisens, who are in Big Bekondo long-term. Robyn is visiting Northern Cameroon with a group of North Americans and Ray and Paula, some friends of mine who are opening up a new field in the far north. Pray for them as they travel the area, praying 5 times a day and hoping to form some relationships with Muslims. And you know that my parents are in Cameroon. They are with my good friends Barry and Desma, and new friends Nathan and Laurel. And of course there are all the missionaries that I met in Cameroon.
What is really strange though, is the tie that I feel with the Baka pygmies of Southern Cameroon. I used to look at pictures of people like the Baka, who live the same way that they lived thousands of years ago, who would be called savage and uncivilized, people who you see in National Geographic. In fact, the Baka were featured in National Geographic several years ago. Now, when I look back at old pictures and home video of the people that I got to spend so much time with, I wonder at that strange world that God brought me to and has caused me to love so much, and I even wonder if He will really allow me to go back and continue to work toward accomplishing the Great Commission among them. Stranger things have happened.

Food Staples

This seemed like an interesting idea at first, but I think I might have gone overboard. The following are lists of different uses, mostly edible, of rice and corn respectively. Though this may be a boring read, it is interactive, so feel free to add to the list (in the comments section). I thought of adding lists for cassava and wheat, but that would have gotten even more tedious. Thanks for putting up with my attempt at generating an idea for a blog entry.

Rice
Boiled rice
Steamed rice
Rice cakes
Rice crispies
Sticky rice
Rice milk
Rice noodles
Fried rice
Rice crispy treats
Chicken and rice soup
Puffed rice
Rice cereal
Sushi
Rice pudding
Rice wine vinegar
Horchata
Sake
Rice paper

Corn
Corn bread
Corn on the cob
Fufu
Grits
Sweet corn
Corn tortillas
Corn chowder
Maize
Corn whiskey
Tamales
Corn pops
Hush puppies
Corn starch
Corn syrup
Popcorn
Corn oil
Corn chips
Corn flakes

Distant Memories

Have you ever noticed how easily places and times are forgotten? I watched a movie set in Africa tonight. The Africa that was portrayed was much different than the Africa that I know, but it occurred to me that I have forgotten many of the details of my time there. Some images are harder to forget, because I have pictures to remind me, but many events, smells, tastes, and sounds get pushed back into the recesses of the memory until they are rarely recalled. Little things bring back memories. The taste of groundnut soup with friends a few months ago helped me to remember treasured time around the dinner table with friends. The smell of certain illegal substances on the clothing of some of my patients reminds me of the thick mélange of scents that would waft into my bedroom window each morning, and of the voices of Baka men, women, and children sharing a bit of daybreak family time around the fire. The sound and feel of the wind and rain today (though miniscule when compared to Cameroonian rain), reminds me of rainy season and the thunderous sound of water hitting the thin tin roof. The sight of malnourished children on TV and sick kids in my ER prompts me to pray for the starving children in the Baka camp and wonder at how conditions can be improved for them.
That brings up an interesting point. Many of my memories are fond and pleasant, but some are just the opposite. I long to return to Cameroon, but it is not the warm memories that draw me, but the desire to see God glorified among the Baka. I remember the faces of so many Baka who have died, so many sick children, so many lives that are imprisoned by spiritual slavery. God doesn’t just remember them. He knows them each by name and has the hairs on their heads numbered. And He loves each of them so dearly. Lord, please continue to put a little of Your heart in mine and grow in me a love for all of the people that you love so much.