Besieged by the crowds, Jesus often sought refuge in solitary prayer. Surrounded by the crush, the responsibility, the incessant petitions, we never see Him ill tempered or inpatient with the masses. Indeed Matthew 9:35 says, “But when he saw the multitudes, he was moved with compassion for them, because they were weary and scattered like sheep having no shepherd.”
Not a day passes without someone asking me for money. Often the requests are blatant lies. On two consecutive nights last week I had closed and locked the back door as the family went to sleep. Each night I had to re-open the door. The first night a woman called to me out of the darkness, standing outside the fence that surrounds the property. Whereas people come to that place in the daytime, no one has ever come to that spot late at night. She caught me off guard. I walked to her and asked what she wanted. “My baby has died and I need money for the boat ride back to my village so I can bury my child.” Her arms were empty. No boats travel back to the villages at night. She was somber but not grief-stricken in the slightest. She appeared to me to be an addict. I told her I couldn’t help her. The next night the same thing happened except her story had changed. She said she had just given birth and needed to buy formula since she was unable to breast feed. This time I laughed out loud and asked if she wasn’t the same lady who needed to bury this same baby last night. She turned away without a word.
The most common story I hear here goes something like this. “My ______ (fill in the blank with a name of a family member- son, daughter, husband, wife) is ill and I need money for ______(medication, travel expenses).” Frequently they will pull out a piece of paper from their pocket to demonstrate the veracity of their claim. It will bear official stamps from the hospital or mayor’s office. Often they are forgeries. A couple of months ago when I was still new at this, a paralyzed man on a hand-powered wooden tricycle came to my house with one of these letters. The mayor’s office explained how this man’s hut had burned to the ground in a nearby village. If the reader could buy him wood, nails, and concrete blocks he would be able to rebuild his house. I told him to return the next day and I would have nails for him. It took me three days to actually buy the nails but he dutifully returned early each morning. By God’s grace I happened to run into our missionary friends Ray & Laurel Griggs. By any chance had they heard of this guy before, I queried. They both laughed. He’d been using the same letter for years. He simply would change the date as necessary. He lived here in fact and not in the remote village where he claimed to have lost his hut to fire. When I happened to run into him in the street a few hours later he approached me with a broad smile. I told him I had reason to believe he was lying to me. His countenance changed instantly and he began to curse me. He actually got angry with me for having found him out! You’ll understand me therefore when I confess to having grown a bit cynical, right?
Karen and I along with the girls try to get up to the local hospital once a week to pray for the sick. We’ve seen many people pray to receive Jesus as Savior during these visits since I always ask before we pray whether or not they are truly saved. Somehow when a person is really hurting or near death, they tend to reply quite honestly. The usual bobbing and weaving just don’t cut it in those situations. If I recall correctly, every time we’ve gone to the hospital someone has prayed for salvation. On the other hand, I can honestly say we’ve never seen someone healed before our eyes. That never has stopped us from continuing in faith to pray and believe that there is nothing impossible for our Living and Merciful God. Our job is simply to obey, to visit with and pray for the sick as He has commanded. The healing is up to Him. He is, after all, sovereign.
Last Sunday after the church service had ended, a poor woman waited to greet us, a big smile on her face. I didn’t recall ever seeing her before. “Do you remember you came to the hospital to pray for my husband?” “No, I don’t,” I replied coldly. I steeled myself for the request for money that would inevitably follow. “He is fully recovered,” she said, adding, “I just came to thank you for praying with him.” Neither Karen nor I responded with any joy, fully expecting her to follow this news with a petition for money. She didn’t ask but just turned and walked away still smiling. We gathered up our things and began to walk home. A little ways up the dirt road Karen turned to me and said, “Eddie, could it be the Lord really healed him?” A joy slowly swept over us as we allowed the woman’s words to sink in. Because of my cynicism, I had missed out on a huge blessing. Karen and I began to discuss this theme. How did the Lord remain so gracious in the midst of the hypocrites and the frauds?
These types have burned our missionary friends hundreds of times. Just last week a leader of the Moravian church approached Ray asking if he knew where a member of his congregation could sell some “white stuff”. Ray just looked at him incredulously. A Pastor helping to sell cocaine—go figure! To labor among them without becoming jaded or cynical is quite challenging. Yet with the help of the Holy Spirit, I believe we can. With discernment, we can love those who are truly needy. By His grace we can be “wise as serpents and harmless as doves.” (Matthew 10:16) Will you please pray for us?
For some time now I have been praying for the Lord to put a desire in the heart of the brethren here for, “the pure milk of the word” that they “may grow thereby.” (1Peter 2:2) The progress evident among the prisoners is remarkable but not surprising given that they’re taught everyday of the workweek. “Why,” I asked the Lord, “could not this same progress be made by the brethren?” You can imagine my surprise and my joy when one of the elders approached me two weeks ago to ask me to teach him and two others twice a week. I told him I would teach them anytime, anywhere they wanted since it was for that reason I believe the Lord led me here. We meet Saturday nights at 7:00 pm and Sunday mornings at 8:30 am. The first four sessions have been wonderful, full of lively discussion, animated questions and sweet times of prayer. Two others joined us this weekend. Please pray the Lord would add the increase so that Paul’s charge may be fulfilled here: “And the things that you have heard from me among many witnesses, commit these to faithful men who will be able to teach others also.” (2Tim.2: 2)
As many of you know, studying Leviticus 25 is what started me on the road that has led us here. Among God’s commands for the Year of Jubilee is the one for “each of you to return to his family.” (Lev. 25:10) Slavery, war, and work had, then as now, separated many a family. An unexpected blessing here as been the chance to spend so much uninterrupted time with my family. We’ve no need to rush off to school or the office each morning. The hectic schedule of life stateside is gone. If fact each time we rush we arrive only to find that one else is there yet. The clock is not very meaningful here. Of course that would drive some Americans nuts. But once you realize there is absolutely nothing you can do about it, a peace sort of settles over you as you wonder, “Why was I rushing anyways?” I’ve watched my wife grow more beautiful before my eyes as she walks in the peace of God and in the knowledge that after 24 years she is finally living her dream—to be a missionary. She still cries at the thought of it! I love to listen to her share her heart with me as we walk the street hand in hand. We are more in love than ever. I’ve heard Gabrielle express words of faith and love that I never expected to hear from the mouth of a 16 year old. The Lord is molding her into a faithful, loving servant. I’ve watched Michaela, who more than any other resisted coming here, soften as the joy and happiness of our humble abode has swept aside her concerns. She constantly entertains us with her dances and silly antics. She has sprouted up like a giant redwood. I’ve watched my daughter Bethany heal before my very eyes. I’ve seen her body grow as she begins to develop into a young lady. I’ve seen her giggle with her sisters and stay up late as they discuss such profound topics as what their houses will look when they’re married. Mind you she just turned 14. Many people warned us that we were crazy to bring her here. Some even tried to stop us. As with so many other steps along this journey, I was forced to trust in that small still voice speaking deep within my heart. What a trial of my faith! I had peace about bringing her here, never doubting she would in fact get better. Why? Leviticus 25 continues in verse 11 with these words, “That fiftieth year shall be a jubilee to you…” If God had allowed me to have the faith to take my 50th year off and dedicate that year to Him in obedience to what He had shown me in His word, why would He then break His promise? After all, what is a year of jubilee? My dictionary defines jubilee as: any occasion of rejoicing, jubilation, and exultation. Jubilant is defined as: triumphant, glad, congratulatory, joyous, exultant, elated, festive, ecstatic, radiant. My Bible has a special page entitled, The Jubilee Year. It begins with these words: “The Jubilee year, also known as the year of liberty (Ezekiel 46:17)…” You see, His promise to me was that this year would be the year of liberty-for me, my family and for Bethany. “And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free. Therefore, if the Son makes you free, you shall be free indeed.” (John 8:32,36) Hallelujah! Saints, be encouraged to trust the still small voice of the LORD!
