A Painful Night

Some of you may have heard about Yaga's son dying. From what we know he
died of diarrhea and malnutrition. It was so sad. Jonathan and I were
awaken by and phone call and got up at 10:30pm from a sound sleep and
went to his place. People were dancing and drumming loudly. Others were
wailing in sadness including Yaga. Jonathan shook his hand then I did
the same. From there I went and sat with the women and Jonathan sat with
the men. I prayed several times for God's protection while I watched the
people dance. It made me feel uncomfortable and afraid because I knew
that this kind of dancing invites Satan. There was a short break in the
dancing for reading in the Bible and singing, but then the dancing
started again. After about an hour or so they had the hole dug to bury
the boy. It was so sad to watch. Lots of women were wailing. Bronwyn
told me that someone told her that they cry like this because it
reminds them of their own babies death when they see others being
buried. Yaga also was wailing and wailing. I have never seen a man cry
so much. It made me feel like I had to leave and go sit down but I
waited until they buried the baby and then I went a little ways away and
sat down. I felt sick. When Jonathan I got home we prayed together
before going to sleep for Yaga and his family and God's projection.
Around 1:30am we went to sleep.

Smoking Taxi Man

On our way back from Moundu, the man driving the car started smoking.
Here is a summary of our conversation.

"My brother," I speak to him, "is smoking good for your health?"

"No," he nervously chuckles. Then he chucks his newly lit, unfinished
cigarette out the window.

I say, "My grandmother died early due to her smoking habit."

"Yes, and me too. I will probably die young," he said.

"Then why do you smoke?" I asked. "You are paying the cigarette company
to kill you."

"I've tried and tried to quit many times. I have a bad cough, and I am
sick inside. I do not really eat much anymore. I just smoke. I really
want to quit..." He shakes his finger and his head and clicks his
tongue, obviously quite discouraged. "No, no, no. But it doesn't work. I
can't."

"If I could invite you to a program to help you stop smoking, would you
be interested?"

His countenance turned from discouragement to expectant hope and he
said, "Yes, yes. I really want to stop."

"Stopping is difficult. You might feel like you will nearly die, and the
struggle might be hard, but it is possible. I'll contact you sometime
soon with more details." We exchanged phone numbers.

I've never taught a stop-smoking class. I've never smoked. But we have
an opening to help this man. And we can point him to One who has more
than enough power to help him stop smoking and return to a more
healthful life. Please pray for him.

Yage's son

"Who's calling me at this time of night?" I wonder as I try to rouse
myself out of a deep sleep. I don't recognize the number, but pick it up
anyway. I don't understand the mumbling on the other end of the line, so
I hang up. My cell phone rings again. Same number. I ignore it, thinking
it is just a wrong number.

Then later we get a call from one of our team. It's after 10pm. "Yage's
son just died." I begin to awaken better and think back over the past
few weeks. His cute little boy became sick. He went to the hospital, but
he didn't get better. So Yage tried the local clinic. That didn't work.
So he went back to the Adventist hospital. The medication didn't help.
After spending nearly $70 (a large sum), the boy got sicker and sicker.
Now, he is dead. I can hear the drum beating in the distance.

Melody and I hop on the motor bike and drive out to Yage's home.
Probably a couple hundred people have already gathered. There is an LED
light hung from the tree branch. The continual drum beat has attracted
the children and adults who instinctively crowded around the drums and
dance and shake. We are led to Yage. He is sitting on the ground,
wailing out loud, devastated. I sit next to him and Melody goes to find
the mom and sit with the women.

Yage says that he has done everything he knew to save his baby. Now his
baby is gone. He does not understand, but seems to have faith that God
is in control and that God sees what is happening.

A few men gather to dig the hole in the compound. About four hours after
his death, the boy is in the grave. It is after midnight now and people
begin heading home.

Why? Just this year alone, Pierre buried his girl. Aaron buried his boy.
Ossa buried his boy. And now Yage buried his boy. Please pray especially
for the new believers here. Satan loves to attack those who have made a
commitment to follow God completely. Someday soon, sin and suffering
will end. May we remain faithful until then.