Prayer Requests

Today as I looked at a list of prayer requests, I became acutely aware of the monotonous nature of what I saw. Someone asked for prayer for a legal situation. A grandfather asked for prayer regarding an especially emotionally draining situation with his grandson. A young woman asked for prayer regarding her mother’s back pain. Others asked for prayer for those who were ill or undergoing surgery.

I thought back on the events of my day. It is not uncommon for me to visit the homes of young moms who are trying to raise infants with serious health problems. Many do not gain weight like they should, some need intense therapy, and others desperately need heart surgery. Some of my mothers are struggling with drug addiction. Some have lost their children to child protective services because of abuse or neglect. And others are teen moms who are struggling to get through high school while raising their kids. And then there are the stories that I hear from my nursing friends. One of my colleagues is trying to find adequate care for her mother, who is suffering with Alzheimer’s and has developed pain that has not yet been diagnosed. Another friend watches people die in her ER routinely.

As a nurse, it is not uncommon to be thrown into the most painful places in people’s lives. It is easy to begin to become numb to what is going on around me. I hear of surgeries and illnesses and it seems so routine to me. I almost want to say, “So what’s the big deal?” But it would be a big deal if the affected person were someone that I am close to, if I were the one hurting.

Lord, there are so many people in crisis and pain around me. Please open my eyes to their real needs, and open my ears to hear their hurts. And when my eyes and ears have seen and heard enough, please open my mouth in intercession to You. And as I see prayers answered, may I always give glory to Your Name.

Ambili part II

Here's another letter, this time from the Conrods, demonstrating God's power through a recent answer to prayer for healing.

Dear Friends,

I feel a need to update you all with something that is happening here. Maybe some of you think that missionaries have lots of faith ("I mean someone's got to have faith to move to Africa... right?") Well, the truth is that we all struggle. I personally have had many struggles with my faith through the years and this past year here has been no different. In fact, it has probably been even harder than other years. As you know from reading our updates, we see a lot of death here. It's very hard being here, representing the Creator, telling them how much He cares, praying, and then seeing death claim the victory time after time. I especially think that it's important with the Baka, as they already believe in many "spiritual" things. They need to see that God is more powerful than all their charms and rituals. The continual defeat did not help my struggles with faith.

There is a little boy here named Ambili. About a week after we arrived in the bush back in Nov 2005, he was about a month old and almost died. We took him to the Catholic Clinic in town and he survived. Yet throughout the entire year he's been sick many times. Sometime around Oct/Nov 2006 he started to lose weight. He started to look like he would die any day. One time the nuns treated him but said that it didn't look like he'd make it until the follow-up visita week later. Another time they didn't think he'd survive the night. We prayed for him periodically when he was sick and I was more than once surprised that he was still alive. But he still got worse.

One day in Nov he was here with his mom. I was sitting there just looking at him and praying (to myself). I finally told his mom that I was going to pray for him every day. So I did. And he only got worse.

I pleaded with God to show me His power by healing Ambili. I wanted Him to show me that He really does say "yes" sometimes to our prayers. Weeks later, when we saw him at the Christmas party we held at the camp and he still looked awful. He was still just skin and bones at about 15 months old now, and couldn't keep his head up for more than a few seconds at
a time. We were going to be leaving in just a few days for a missionary conference in another part of Cameroon. I wondered if he would still be alive when we returned. I doubted it.

This past Sunday (the 21st) I saw him again for the first time since our return. I was sitting out by the fire and Lendo (the Baka grandmother who lives next to us) was holding a baby on her lap--facing away from me. I thought it might be Ambili but I hadn't seen his mom around so I got up and walked around to see. I looked at the child for a few moments wondering if it was him. It sort of looked like him... but not really. Lendo, however, started talking about him and calling him Ambili and I realized that he just looked so different because he had gained weight. His face was fuller, his eyes more alert. He could hold his head up straight and look around--his neck was no longer so tiny that it looked like it would break just by the weight
of his head. There was muscle under his skin. He had made a huge turn-around since we had left the last week of December. Lendo (affectionately: "Mama Lendo") kept speaking. She said "Ambili's strong now because Jesus healed him."

I can't say that I chose to pray for Ambili out of my deep compassion, though I was truly concerned for his welfare. I chose to put God to the test with his case because I knew it was hopeless. Kids around here get sick and then get better all the time--that's life. When kids get really sick they die--that's life... here. He was way beyond the point of no return and it could only be by a miracle that he would recover. And that's why I chose to pray daily for him.

God chose to have mercy on him, yes. But God chose to have mercy on me as well. In my faithless state I reached out with what I could muster and prayed. And God responded.

The battles can be hard. The days many that we must fight. Yet let us stay on our knees and fight each day until the battles are won and we can lift God's banner high as we glory with Him in victory. The battle for Ambili is not yet over. He's well over a year old and extremely behind in normal development for his age. Will you continue to fight this battle along with me? And when we've won the battle for his health, will you fight with me for his soul?

By His grace and strength alone,

-Nathan A. Conrod
Luke 18:1-8
I Thess. 5:17

Praise God for His willingness to show us His faithfulness, even in our faithlessness!!!

Ambili

This is an excerpt from a recent letter from the Abbots in Cameroon.

After church, we greeted all those involved and noticed Lendo, an older woman from our village, holding a small baby. We almost didn't recognize a baby we've all become very acquainted with. You see Ambili has been a very sick baby from birth. He is well over one year old and has not begun to walk. Before Christmas he was unable to hold up his head and his facial features were sunken in. Many children have passed him in weight and ability. We, as well as our teammates, have taken him to the hospital numerous times over the last year. Many times the people working at the clinic expressed to us their concern for him. A couple of times they told us that it would be unlikely that he would live much longer. So a couple of months before Christmas our teammate, Nathan, felt God impressing on him the desire to pray specifically for Ambili's healing. He shared that with me (Barry) on one of our jogs together and we all agreed to make that a primary subject in our prayers. We have been impressed, as well, to pray beyond this that Ambili would know Christ as his Healer and Savior and that he would tell others.

So when we saw him, we had to do a double take. What a change? Here he was holding his head up on his own. His face looked full and his wrists and ankles had meat on them. He even had a lively expression on his face. He looked a bit like his older brother Angu. Lendo saw that we were amazed and she said, 'Awa Jesua' which means 'because of Jesus'. A part of our prayer for Ambili has already been answered. Praise God with us for this answered prayer and please continue to pray with us the second part of this prayer. God is faithful.

Praise God that He chose to exercise His healing power in little Ambili's life. I truly believe that God has a plan for this little one's life. God has already revealed His ability to heal to "Mama Lendo" and to other Baka people. Let's join the Baka missionary team in praying that Ambili would know Christ as his Savior and would also tell others about God's power and love.

Cameroon Bound

With much joy, I announce that I am planning to journey to Cameroon in mid to late March for a month-long field visit. This is the next step in the process of going to Cameroon long term. Once I have visited the field and gotten a fresh perspective of the ministry going on there and the team and field that I hope to join, I will have an opportunity to meet with a couple members of the field leadership. After they have a chance to discuss my fit with the Cameroon field and the Baka team, they will decide whether or not to invite me to join them in ministry in Cameroon. This is a very necessary and important step in the process of preparing for ministry to the Baka. Please pray with me that I will be able to find reasonable airfare to Cameroon, that the timing will work out to minimize travel for the missionaries who will be hosting me, that I would be a blessing to all those I come in contact with, and that God would give me wisdom and safety during this trip.
Also, praise God for grace from my employers who have approved the time off of work, and for good communication with friends in Cameroon leading up to a proposed time-frame for my visit.

A River of Sparrows?

I saw a very odd sight today. I was driving not far from work when I spotted what could have been a swarm of locusts, only the locusts were very large. I nearly wanted to start batting at the air around my ears to keep them from landing on me. Of course, I knew that they were birds (sparrows I think), and that they were very unlikely to land on me. What was spectacular was the way that they were moving, like a giant current waving to and fro, and in spite of flying in very close proximity to each other and constantly changing direction, they did not collide with one another. Several minutes later I found myself driving back in the direction of these remarkable birds and discovered that I was not just watching an enormous flock of sparrows, but a grand river of thousands, if not millions, of feathered fliers all working together in one great entity. I continued to watch as I waited at a stoplight and noticed that the river of birds continued on both sides until they just faded into the sky. There were so many of them, that I could not see the beginning or the end of this grand river. WOW!!!

This great river of sparrows reminded me of the birds of the air in Matthew 6:25-34. Isn’t it wonderful how each and every one of those little birds is cared for by God? Even more wonderful is how God provides for each one of His children as we pursue His kingdom.

Yosemite Valley

Here's another cool picture taken at Yosemite last weekend.

Anthem for Christmas

This is fast becoming my favorite Christmas song. If you want the Gospel in a nutshell, the essence of the Kingdom of God, the purpose of life, here it is.

Anthem for Christmas

Words: Gloria Gaither
Music: Michael W. Smith

In the space of the beginning
Was the living Word of light
When this Word was clearly spoken
All that came to be was right
All creation had a language
Words to say what must be said
All day long the heavens whispered
Signing words in scarlet red

Some failed to understand it
So God spoke His final Word
On a silent night in Judah's
Hills a baby's cry was heard

Glory! sang the angel chorus
Glory! echoed back the night
Love has come to walk among us
Christ the Lord is born this night

All creation sing His praises
Earth and heaven praise His name
All who live come join the chorus
Find the words His love proclaim

Find the words His love proclaim

The earth was created to glorify Him. We were born to worship Him. We do this by serving Him in everything we do.

Bridalveil in the Fall

The purchase of a new camera necessitated a photo trip to the mountains today. Rosalynn and I chose Yosemite. This photo is of Bridalveil Falls. It's a little wimpy this time of year, but still beautiful. We also got to see a couple of bears. It seems that they really like the fresh fallen acorns.

Handle with Care

As a public health nurse, I have a very different work environment than my colleagues in the hospital. Instead of bringing patients into my space where I am in control, I enter the space of my clients. Sometimes I am very pleased to see healthy, supportive families who only need a little bit of cheer-leading on my part. Other times I encounter problems that I would never want to live through. Today I discovered that one of my clients, a mother of a 3 month old little boy, has been suffering in an abusive relationship for quite some time.
Lord, give me wisdom as I try to help in this desperate and delicate situation. Be glorified as I attempt to show Your love to this young lady and her family.

Here I Am

"Lord send me anywhere; only go with me.
Lay any burden upon my heart; only sustain me.
And sever any tie that binds save the tie that binds
me to thy heart. Jesus, my King, my life, my all.
I again consecrate my life to thee.”
~David Livingstone~

One-Anothering

I didn't coin the word, but I think one-anothering is a great English version of the verb fellowship or the idea of being community. It comes from a colleague’s rendering of what the "one another" passages from the New Testament command us to do. In other words, it is the verb form of what we are to do to one another.
I'm attending a Sunday school class about community. It has really got me thinking. I've been in the church all of my life. I attended Sunday school and youth group through my school years, but when I took a break from college, I found that there was no longer a neat little slot that I could fit into at church. Because I loved ministry, I stuck around in the youth group for a few years and discipled jr. high and high school girls, but there was still this lingering knowledge that I really didn't have a place. That dilemma has continued, on and off, until now. The church leadership at Calvary apparently agrees with me. They are searching for a pastor for young people 18-30-something years of age. Of course, that is a monumental task given the highly dynamic nature of that age group, but I applaud the wisdom of the church leadership in attempting to address the need.
But I wonder how one is to go about ministering specifically to young people. We, as a culture, like neat little slots that we can assign people to. When someone doesn’t fit into any of the slots we have created, we get nervous and attempt to make a new slot. More and more, young people don’t fit into slots. Maybe it is postmodern influence, but I think it is a good thing.
Perhaps the church has gotten too slot-happy and needs to explore one-anothering. Perhaps we all need to re-explore being a community. Maybe having Sunday school classes or outings or pot-lucks for all age groups, marital statuses, or genders would be a good start. Perhaps we need to stop segregating ourselves so much and start integrating. Most of the most valued people in my life have not been people that are just like me. I’ve loved spending time with older, widowed women, young children, college kids, married couples, and single people, and I’ve learned precious lessons from all of these categories.
I don’t want to deny the value of spending time with people from our own homogenous group. Just today a friend spoke of how much he has grown by being in a men’s Bible study. I know that I have had similar experiences, but I just want to experiment a little more with this idea of one-anothering and see where it leads.

Torn Between Worlds

I love being back in Manteca. It is good to be close to family, and my new job is great. But I miss Southern California, the friends I have there, and sometimes even working in the ER. …and I long to be in Cameroon, to serve God among the Baka who need Him so desperately. Three different worlds, and somehow my heart is in all of them. But if there is one thing that I’ve learned in my travels, it is that this world is not our home. God designed us in such a way that I don’t think it is possible to be completely content in one place for very long. Maybe the longing that I have for those other places stems from a deep-seated longing for heaven. Just maybe.

Jesus and the Lamb

Today I was reminded of a painting by an artist named Katherine Brown. The painting is called Jesus and the Lamb. Out of respect for the artist and her copyright, I will not show the image here, but you could always google it.

I first saw a copy of the painting in my friend's house in Cameroon. One day she told me that a Baka boy named Samba asked her who the man in the picture was. She said that it broke her heart, because she did not yet know enough Baka language to be able to introduce him to Jesus. Every time I see that painting, I think of Samba and his family and friends who can only hear about Jesus if someone knows enough Baka to tell them.

Now, only a few short years later, Samba has heard about Jesus and is even teaching others! He has become a preacher and a leader in his community. Praise God for planting curiosity in a young man's mind and for preparing him uniquely to be a vessel of His Word.

Bombay

Below is an email update from a friend who is in Bombay and narrowly missed becoming a casualty of the recent terrorist attack there. Please pray for Chris and his team as well as the people of Bombay as they deal with the aftermath of this horrible attack. And praise be to God for the obvious protection that He gave Chris and his team members.

Dear all,

In case you haven't heard from CNN or BBC, Bombay was hit by a major
terrorist attack yesterday.

Between 6:00pm and 6:30pm IST, a series of seven bomb blasts hit the
Western Railway Line. All of the bombs were planted either on the trains,
or at various stations along the railway line. The Western Line runs
through some of the most heavily populated areas of Bombay, and
approximately 6 million people use this line for transport every day. The
bombs were timed to go off within a twelve minute period, and 6:00-6:30 is
about the time that rush hour starts, so the trains were packed about to
the limit when the bombs went off. It was very deliberately planned to
cause maximum casualties and illicit fear from the general populace. The
estimated body count is now around 175 people, with another 500-1000
people estimated to be injured in the blasts and the panic that ensued
afterward.

This series of attacks hit me very close to home. I use the Western Line
to go to work every single day. I leave work at around 6:00pm, and am
still on the trains at 6:30pm, since my commute takes about an hour. I
travel in the men's first class compartment, which is the exact
compartment in which every bomb that was planted on the trains was
detonated. By the grace of God, my boss let me go home early yesterday.
I missed travelling on the trains during the time the bombs went off by
only an hour. Three of the bomb blasts affected the route I take every
day. One detonated at the station in the suburb I live, one detonated at
the station in the area where my office is located, and one detonated at a
station in between those two stops.

Telecommunications were almost completely frozen by the government
yesterday, and I was unable to make outgoing calls. This left many of our
staff scrambling in the dark to figure out if anyone from our office had
been injured or killed in the blasts. Until this morning, many of us were
unreachable, stranded by the lack of public transportation, and
unaccounted for. This morning, we were able to ascertain that only one
member of our staff had been injured. He was travelling in one of the
compartments in which a bomb was detonated. By a stroke of divine
providence, he is only suffering from a burn on his hand, and a gash on
his head that required a few stitches. While hospitalized, he is doing
all right, and will quickly recover, at least from the physical trauma.
Please pray that he can also cope with the mental and emotional trauma.

Other than that, several of our office staff were saved by split second
decisions not to get on trains that were wired with explosives. The
number of close calls we had yesterday is amazing, and it smacks of a
sense of God intervening on our behalf.

If all of you could please pray for the situation in the aftermath of this
tragedy, we would appreciate it. There are worries that local Hindu
fundamentalist groups will blame the attacks on local Muslims, which will
lead to riots and lynchings. Violent exchanges between various
underground Muslim gangs and fundamentalist Hindu groups has been
happening for decades in this city, and we are hoping that these blasts
won't serve to fuel hatred between the two groups. Pray this does not
happen, or things could get really ugly. Pray also that the families of
those who have been injured or killed might find comfort and peace. And
that the government might find the individuals involved in the blasts and
bring them to justice.

Most of all, know that I am doing all right. The primary worry that I
have now is how some members of my team will deal with the stress of the
trauma and the fear that might grip the city. Pray that we won't be
afraid. I think this is the one piece of advice that Jesus most often
gave to his disciples and I know that, if we really let fear grip us, it
could lead to self-absorbtion and a multitude of sins. Pray that the
Christians here might be a light to others, and be a source of peace,
comfort and reconciliation to those around us.

Peace of Christ,

-Chris

...Beginning of Another

It is with great excitement that I begin another chapter in life. I will be moving back up to Manteca and taking a position as a public health nurse with San Joaquin County. This kind of work will be completely different than what I am used to as an emergency nurse, but it sounds like it will be interesting, rewarding and a complete change of pace. I will be working with at risk pregnant moms and newborns, visiting them in their homes. It is the kind of work that I really think is suited to a person like me, and I am so excited, if not a little nervous, to get started.

End of One Chapter...

Yesterday was a momentous day in my nursing career. I had my yearly evaluation, in which I received a promotion to Clinical Nurse II and a small raise. Everyone always says the first year as a nurse is a time of growing and learning. As I look back at where I was a year ago, I recognize that God has given me many opportunities to develop my nursing skill and to grow into what my manager calls a "competent clinician." I've been blessed to be able to begin my nursing career in the emergency room, where every day is a learning experience. I still feel very much like the "advanced beginner" that I was hired as, and I have a lot to learn still, but my time as an emergency nurse is drawing to a close. I also gave my resignation yesterday. Life is taking a little different turn now, but I thank God for the opportunity to begin where I did.

No Hero Here

When I tell people that I am a nurse, they usually gain an attitude of respect. When I add that I work in the ER, some have romantic images of heroism and glory. Well, there’s no hero here. Don’t get me wrong. We do everything that you see on TV shows like ER and Scrubs (the medical stuff, I mean). We treat everything from cuts and scrapes to massive heart attacks. The truth of the matter is that without our intervention, many of our patients would not have lived. But the heroic attitude, the “congratulations, you saved that man’s life,” the sense of fulfillment and peace that you would expect after a particularly difficult case was resolved just doesn’t exist. We’re expected to save lives. It’s part of the job description. People just aren’t very impressed when you do what is expected from you.

It seems like the same thing happens in ministry. A pastor, minister, or missionary is expected to change lives. A church that is not growing or making changes in the community is seen as a failure. A missionary who doesn’t report converts sometimes seems like he is not worth his financial support. But when churches do grow and conversions do happen, we often take it for granted. I mean, really, isn’t ministry the job of a minister? Do they really need to be congratulated for doing their job? The truth is that it is a hard job and a little recognition and glory would be nice.

But the glory doesn’t belong to us.

We live in a world of hurting people, people who desperately need God. Our job is to help direct them toward Him. He’s the One who does the real work of saving lives, and He should get all of the glory.

Lord, thank you for saving me. I’m sorry that I am so hard hearted most of the time and that I take for granted all that You have given to me. Please forgive me. Be glorified in all that You’ve done in my life. And Lord, help me to give all the glory to you when the life that you have given me somehow makes a difference in someone else’s life. I am no hero. That job is yours.

Calling

"Do our lives provide evidence of our calling? How we live seems more important than what specific task we do, when it comes to living a life worthy of our calling."

This quote is from an article that I read today in urbana.org. It was quite timely, as I had an especially difficult time controlling my anger and frustration at work yesterday. You can find it in its entirety by pasting this into your browser search window: http://www.urbana.org/wtoday.ephesians.cfm

Creator

I had the best day the other day. My roommate, Lindsey, and I went driving in my convertible (which I recently bought from my parents) to the coast.

We started off in Redondo Beach and took a long relaxing walk on the sand. Families were playing in the surf. Young people were getting tossed around on their body boards. A few young men were surfing, and there was one guy attempting to parasail. We watched as a few pelicans plunged into the water to catch a meal, and we stood admiring a beautiful hawk that was hovering on an air current near the top of the rocky cliffs. We even got to see a small crab that was trying to escape the dangers of the beach after floating in on a mass of seaweed.

After leaving Redondo Beach, we drove down the coast a little way and discovered a lookout point in Palos Verdes. From behind the safety railing, we could see that the tall cliffs that we were standing on plunged down to a rocky shore, but, of course, I could not stay behind the railing. As I approached the edge of the cliff, I discovered an amazing sedimentary formation right at the shoreline. It looked as if there was a spring that escaped from the ground about 50 feet from the shore. It deposited enough minerals to make a circular formation that extended out in irregular striations and created an excellent tide-pool environment (something that I would love to explore sometime soon). The area must have been rich in sea life, because there were sea lions nearby, and one of them was doing cartwheels right in front of us. He was sharing the wealth of fish with a couple of pelicans who plunged greedily into the water. The seagulls looked as if they were really enjoying themselves as they effortlessly soared on the air current. The mixture of perfectly blue skies and cool sea breeze made me feel as if I could fly also. I managed to convince myself that wings were required to fly and decided to wait until I got to heaven to attempt flight on my own.

I found the words, "this is so beautiful," and "awesome!" escape my lips several times. I think God is glorified when we find enjoyment in something He created, whether it is in nature, music, the spoken or written word, or in our relationships with one another.

God, thank you for being such a wonderful artist to create all of the sights, sounds, feelings, scents, and tastes that you created. And thank you for creating us with all of the senses to be able to enjoy these things so thoroughly. What an amazing Creator to form so many beautiful things and then fashion beings to enjoy them.

Patient

Pronunciation: 'pA-sh&nt
Function: adjective
Etymology: Middle English pacient, from Middle French, from Latin patient-, patiens, from present participle of pati to suffer; perhaps akin to Greek pEma suffering
1 : bearing pains or trials calmly or without complaint
2 : manifesting forbearance under provocation or strain
3 : not hasty or impetuous
4 : steadfast despite opposition, difficulty, or adversity
5 a : able or willing to bear

I've discovered something interesting and unfortunate about human nature. You see, the ER is a working environment that brings out the best and worst in people. I find that many of the people that I work with are either quite loving and compassionate with patients or very cynical with them. We deal with many people who are scared, tired and frustrated with what ever illness that they are dealing with. They want answers and a miracle cure, stat. Many times their expectations exceed our ability, causing a conflict of interest. Not only that, but we usually have a waiting room filled with the sick and wounded and no room in the inn. It is not uncommon for us to have more patients than we have patience for. ...So it should not be surprising to see staff become cynical and uncompassionate instead of caring and patient.
I'm not immune to this paradox. I've found myself resenting patients at times just for coming in. My prayer lately is that God would replace my hard heart with a piece of His own and give me a willingness and desire to serve my patients and coworkers in whatever capacity needed in spite of the hardships or frustrations I encounter.

djessee

Check out the link in the right column with the name djessee. Too cool!

Nganga

Here is more info on the healer that visited Mayos and the boy that he was unable to heal from a newsletter sent by the Conrods:

Thank you all for praying for the boy with TB and the situation with the traditional healer (Nganga) who was in town. The healer left a few weeks ago, and the people were convinced that he was not a “real” healer because he had no real power. We were excited to get that news, until our teammates bumped into this healer again a few days later working his “magic” in another village a few miles away. We asked our Baka neighbors why they didn’t tell their brothers in this other village to beware of this fellow, that he was just a con-artist. They said it wasn’t their responsibility, their brothers in the other town would figure it out soon enough. That mentality bothered us a bit because in the meantime, this other camp is being exploited of their money until they figure it out that this guy is a fraud. Anyhow, Membila, the boy with TB, is growing stronger and getting better. We are still giving him medicine and are praying that God would not only completely heal him, but show His power in Membila’s life.

This is a time for fervent prayer. Satan would love to see this boy die of TB and discredit the Gospel and invalidate the power of God. When I was in Cameroon, I saw so many people die after beginning to see them improve under modern medicine and prayer. Perhaps the mixture of interventions wasn’t quite right. Maybe we needed to add a little more prayer, love, and faith and not rely so heavily on the medicine. I am guilty of the same mistakes right now in my current occupation in the ER. I don’t love on people and pray for them as much as I should. Instead, I rely on our powerful medicines and amazing modern healing techniques. I have a lot to learn. Right now, I need to learn again how to pray.
Pray with me for Membila, for his health, and for those around him to see the Power of God in his life.

The Maribo Part 3

The Maribo (Part III)

Forgive me for dividing this story up into segments. My purpose was to include the details in short segments that were readable in a short period of time. If it has created an expectancy, that is, I assure you, only incidental :)

Maribo is the French word for 'divine healer'. The word that the Baka use is 'nganga', a word we have heard many times over the past couple of weeks. He has been a temporary resident of our area for that amount of time. For a few days he was in the vicinity of our houses. A time that coincided with an increase in sickness, not a decrease which one would expect a healer to accomplish.

But back to the ritual . . .

Most people seated around the fire had their foreheads painted with a tree bark concoction; a part of the ritual that was not offered to us. I was pleased, but prepared to decline had I been asked to participate.

As the young Baka man with Tuberculosis continued to follow the instructions of the nganga, other rituals were performed. One being that the healer rubbed his body all over the body of his subject.

We had made a decision as a family that our children shouldn't be at the ritual. We felt it our responsibility to guard their minds and hearts from this experience at this stage of their lives. They were safe at home with their mom. In contrast was the participation of the young people at the ritual. With their parents nearby, the young children played a crucial part of providing the mood for the evening ritual with their singing.

Late in the ritual, the music ceased and the nganga addressed the crowd. He lectured everyone and told them that the boy's father was responsible because he was not a good father. All of those present were invited to come by twos and stretch their hands over the fire. This served a dual purpose; to determine the guilt of anyone present and to provide strength for the participants. We were urged to join in, but once again explained that our strength comes from the One True God.

The ritual was complete and the boy was considered healed. The final requirement was that his parents return the next day with their saliva to offer to the nganga.

Today (2 weeks later) the boy is still very weak. He wasn't able to make the 2 mile walk from the encampment to his house. We pray that he is still faithfully taking his TB treatment (which lasts for 6 months) and not just relying on what the healer said.

That last statement reflects something of our own system of beliefs. Though we did have the opportunity to proclaim our solitary trust in Christ, sometimes we come across as trusting in the medicine for healing. The Baka trust in the spirits that their healer calls upon. We know that neither is completely correct. It is God that we all need to trust in to use whatever method he chooses. Please pray that God will show Himself in this situation as the Great Healer! And continue to pray with us that God will weaken the powers and spiritual forces that have such a tight control over these people.

The story is not over. The Baka "do not segment their lives into religion, economics, politics, and entertainment as we are so accustomed to do. Life is seen as one whole, with religion at the center. People hunt and gather for food, but they know that without the blessing of God, their efforts are futile." ('Incarnational Ministry': Heibert). They have no problem believing in God. They are willing to seek out the help of God, but see no distinction between the other spiritual and physical options at their disposal and God's power.

We are here at a crucial time in the lives of the Baka as the gospel message has begun to penetrate their society and lives. It is important that we present the gospel as a whole gospel. It must deal with salvation from sin, but also with illness, hunger, hostilities in the group, and with other problems of life.

Pray for us as we are constantly faced with choices that have the potential to communicate this whole gospel of Christ to the Baka people. Pray also for God's word to penetrate hearts that are longing for a lasting hope. Pray that they may know the Hope that is ours in the person of Jesus Christ.

The Maribo Part 2

It just occurred to me that I have not included the conclusion of the story about the traditional healer in the Baka camp. It is a bit long, but if you are interested in hearing more about what is going on in the lives of these precious people, read on, it's worth it. Here is part 2, part 3 to follow:

Part II
In our last update, I explained that a big decision was looming before us all- whether to accept an invitation to see a visiting maribo perform his healing 'treatment' ritual over a young neighbor boy with tuberculosis. After much prayer, we came to believe that the Baka would interpret our presence positively; as an evidence of our concern for the things happening in the lives of our friends here. We also decided that the men would make the trip to the camp alone, accompanying some of our neighbors.

The 3 kilometer walk from our homes to the camp provided a great chance to spend some pleasant and unhurried time with many of our neighbors. We stopped to sit and enjoy some honey under one of the shelters at the camp before moving on to the area where the maribo was to perform his 'healing' ritual. A few of those who had accompanied us were able to translate, and explained what was happening step by step. I prayed continually, asking that such rituals will soon be revealed to be just that and no more, and that this whole counterfeit spiritual system will one day be dissipated by the powerful reality of God's own Holy Spirit working among the Baka people.

For the ritual, we were all seated in a semi-circle around an elongated fire. Someone explained that this was no ordinary fire, as it holds a certain medicine. A couple of young men played the drums, and a wave of sound ebbed and waned from a chorus of young children also seated around the fire.

The maribo was dressed in shorts, with an animal skin around his head, which was supposed to help him 'see' the source of the sickness. He danced around the fire, joining in the song; and periodically stopping to stare into the fire- as though searching for something.

After an extended time of repeating this ritual, he invited the sick young man to join him at the fire. The young man was instructed to stretch his arms over the fire repeatedly, and then to bend backwards over the fire. This ritual also continued for some time before the young man was given a potion to drink, derived of forest medicines.

As neither of us felt any sense of fear, we were sure that God had answered our prayers. At the same time, I was acutely aware of the reality and the significance these rituals hold in the daily lives of the Baka people. As the ritual continued, I prayed to be open to the leading of the One True Spirit throughout the remainder of the evening.

Roses are Red

Well, not all of them. The roses in our little yard, the ones that are blooming, are white, salmon, and yellow. They make a beautiful arrangement and emit a rather delectable fragrance. My roses aren't any better than any others. In fact, they are quite meager, but it is fun to have things growing outside our back door. The impatiens are getting bigger and blooming beautifully, the sweet peas are recovering from a nearly fatal encounter with powdery mildew, and all but one of the tomato plants are growing out of control.
It's funny. When I was younger, I hated working in the yard. Perhaps that was because the task of pulling weeds never seemed to end (a really good reason to be thankful for round-up) or because it seemed to get so hot so quickly. But now it is so fun to go outside and fiddle around with the green things.
Thank you Lord for a reprise from all of the roads and noise and smog and stale indoor air. Thank you for making such a beautiful world filled with green foothills, tree covered mountains, salty seashores, and fragrant flowers.

Happy Mother's Day

Happy Mother's day Mom!

I love you and miss you.

White Stuff

Does anyone know a cure for powdery mildew? I think that if I am unable to finally get it under control, it might just wipe out the entire plant population of our meager little patio, which has become one of my favorite diversions lately.

Perfume

Do you ever notice how scents can affect you? Some smells remind us of childhood, some of a person that we love, some of a place that we have visited. There are pleasant smells and not-so-pleasant smells and memories to match. I often get teased because the smell of a dairy reminds me of childhood and I therefore say that it smells “good.” Then I find myself explaining that there is a sweet cow/alfalfa smell about dairies that is good, even if some dairies and stockyards smell absolutely horrible.
Spring is in the air in Southern California. We’ve had intermittent rain showers that clean the air and stimulate new growth. The trees and flowers emit a bouquet of scents that are strong enough to make me sneeze, but are enjoyable none-the-less. It is a good reprieve from the smoggy smell of this area.
I went to my parent’s house last weekend and enjoyed the smell of the orange trees blooming. Then we took a drive up to my Grandparent’s. Of course, we had the windows of the truck closed the whole way, so when we opened the doors we were hit by the mountain air. The pine, oak, and other green things mixed with the brisk freshness that is at that altitude was a beautiful perfume.
Lord, thank you for blessing us with the sense of smell and for allowing us to enjoy some scents so very much.

Easter Musings

This Easter, I have begun to realize something strange about my coworkers. When I first began to work with them, I noticed that many were not unlike most people who don't know Christ. They struggle with the same problems and need the same hope. However, I have noticed lately that they are a different group of people than those that I am used to. Many grew up in the church. Some know a good deal about the Bible. Others even know the Gospel message that brings salvation. It is strange to converse with my coworkers, since their knowledge about some areas of Christianity surpasses my own. It makes me wonder if they are just churched or if some of them know Christ and just don't look like the average Christian.
Regardless of whether they have a relationship with Jesus, my job remains the same; to be the hands and feet of Jesus in a world that needs Him so much.

Automobile Annoyance

I got a letter from a friend the other day telling of how difficult it is to get work done on a vehicle in a third-world country. She was fortunate to break down near a village, but unfortunate that she was not near a larger town or a cell phone tower. However, she did manage to get the car worked on by a competent mechanic. She spoke of finding a mechanic who literally does all of his work under a shade tree and uses rudimentary security precautions such as locking up the spare tire inside of the vehicle to prevent theft. I was impressed at just how much he was able to do with his meager resources, but it seems that he was able to get the job done.
In contrast, I broke down three weeks ago just across the street from a modern auto shop. They were able to fix my car quickly and competently and I was back on the road 3 days later. However, my car broke down again in just a few days. Consequently, 2 weeks and 3 mechanic shops later, I should be driving my car again soon. I hope when I am in Cameroon, God will provide help like the mechanic that my friend ran into.