Nineteen Days in Simbari (Part Four)

Day Thirteen

We had a good time yesterday with Benjamin and his family. We sat in a little round house across the way with a fire lit for warmth and light. It’s still raining, or else we would have sat outside. It was a good visit. They have a grandson in a hospital far away getting repeated surgeries for a bone infection in his leg. And their daughter, this boy’s mom, just had a tumor taken out of her stomach in the same hospital. A lot of “heavies,” as we say in Pidgin, for this family. The daughter and her husband are faithful believers in the church here and we are sorry to have missed meeting them but our prayers are with them.

Church went well this morning. Before it started, Luke was running around greeting people sitting on the floor and making everyone laugh. One lady came in and shook everyone’s hand before she sat down (quite a normal custom here in PNG). She didn’t shake Luke’s hand, obviously, but apparently he noticed because after she sat, he ran right up to her and stuck his hand out with a look on his face that seemed to say, “um, excuse me. I’m here too!” That kid. I love him to death.

Anyways, there is something about being in a church setting so different from what you are used to (walking up a ladder to enter, sitting on the floor, surrounded by more kids than adults, everyone greeting everyone, singing and preaching in a language you don’t understand) that gives you a glimpse of what it really means to be a part of the body of Christ. Sometimes we get church and the Church confused, but when the “normal” church stuff is stripped away, you are left with the simplicity of believers unified in the Lord, praising him for his goodness. It’s a glimpse of heaven – of every tribe, tongue and nation worshiping the Lamb who was slain for their sakes. It’s humbling, exciting, and profoundly fulfilling all at once.

Day Fifteen

We have a flight scheduled to come in Thursday, three days from now. Our time here has been great and we’ve learned a lot about this bush-living business, but I’m feeling the itch to get back home. It’s still raining – we’re talking days now since we’ve seen the sun, and I’m ready to be reintroduced.

The church is going to throw a mumu (a PNG feast) on Wednesday and it will be the perfect closing to our time here. Meanwhile, I need to go wash clothes so they have a chance of drying by the time we leave.

Also, Kimi is developing a boil and these get really nasty (Beau had one a month or so ago). It would be nice to be closer to the clinic in case it gets out of hand.

Day Sixteen

We spent some time visiting with Pastor Raymond and his wife again. They told us the coolest thing that I just have to write down. In these tribal villages, they have a court place where they can take their grievances against each other and seek “justice,” usually in the form of money. Well, Brent spent the majority of the morning over at the court (just a designated spot at the end of the airstrip) listening to some case about a wife of one man spending too much time with another man. This is a pretty common court issue.

Anyways, we were talking with Raymond and Ellen about these court customs and also about the man here, the “magic man,” who controls the weather. People bring him food or money and tell him how they want him to manipulate the weather and he works some magic to do so. Of course, the believers play no part in this and they have gotten courted before because they lit a fire while this magic man was trying to do some magic (apparently that’s taboo). But when these believers were taken to court, they just used it as an opportunity to share about the Creator, Papa God, who REALLY controls the weather. The rest of the people are so tired of being preached at every time they court the believers, they’ve begun to ignore their culturally taboo behavior. Now some of these things sound silly to us – namely the magic and the taboos – but they are very serious and deeply ingrained parts of this culture. I think the believers’ behavior in all this is awesome, and a great example of how the gospel has truly worked changes in the heart of these people who not long ago hadn’t heard the name of Jesus.

Day Seventeen

Kimi’s sore is huge. Tomorrow can’t come fast enough. We had to puncture it this morning and I almost lost my breakfast trying to clean up what came out. I know I didn’t get all of it because there is still a golfball-sized lump under her skin but I don’t have anything to lance it with properly. My poor girl, there is nothing worse than hearing your child screaming while you are inflicting the pain. But we learned from Beau that if you don’t get some of the gunk out when it comes to the surface, the pain just gets worse. She’s already barely walking. We started her on some antibiotics the Oggs had. When you are this remote, you have to keep things like that on-hand. Hopefully, those will prevent any spread to the infection.

Tomorrow can’t come fast enough, but I’m getting really nervous that the weather isn’t going to allow a plane to come in. It’s still raining and there is no sign of it letting up. Our battery has been so low due to lack of sunshine, we’ve been using a flashlight to see in our house in the evenings. I think we got in bed at 730 last night. Apparently, this  weather is unusual for this time of year. Go figure.

Day Eighteen

Oh. My. Word. This may just go down as one of the most stressful mornings of my life. We are supposed to be leaving this morning but the weather is not cooperating. We packed all our bags and weighed everything (small planes mean strict weight allowances) and went back and forth on the radio with the pilot about whether he could get in or not about five times. “The clouds are lifting, we have an hour for them to clear. He’ll try to come in, no wait, the hole closed up. There’s a half hour for this to clear or else he won’t make it. It cleared! Nope, he still can’t get in because the direction he’s coming from is still closed up. Your flight is: CANCELLED.”

Nothing like packing up your house and kids and beginning to dream of home only to be told you’re not going home today. Our bush experience is now complete – we’ve been stranded, cut off by something completely out of our control. They are going to try to come in again tomorrow but to be honest, I’m not seeing any improvement in the weather – it has rained NONSTOP today – and I doubt tomorrow will end any differently than today. And if they don’t get in tomorrow then it will be the weekend and they won’t even try again until Monday…which is when the Oggs are supposed to leave and they can’t fit both of us on one flight. Oh Lord, take this rain away…

On a good note, Kimi’s sore is continuing to drain and while it still looks nasty, she seems to be feeling better and it’s not as concerning to me. Also, we had a wonderful time yesterday with the believers at their mumu. Everyone loves Brent. They love that he’s a pilot and will be flying in here in the future, they love how much time he’s been out and doing life with them, and they love that he’s constantly making them laugh with his “tok pilai” (jokes). They spent a bunch of time yesterday trying to think of a bird to name him after – so he can have a Simbari name. He accepted one proudly…if only we could pronounce it.

Day Nineteen

We got out today! The weather was still really overcast but the “ceiling” was high enough for a plane to get under it (the “ceiling” being pilot talk for the bottoms of the clouds). Let me tell you, there is no happier sound than that of your airplane when you are out in the bush. I know I’ve mentioned this a few times, but really, there is just this giddiness that swells up in you when you hear that engine and then finally see your plane coming in on final. And just like when the flight bringing our diapers came in, I felt this overwhelming urge to give our pilot the biggest hug. However, even though I know him (whereas I did not know the MAF guy), it still probably would have been inappropriate. Look at me, practicing self-control! Still, if Brent comes home with a story about how some missionary lady gave him a huge hug when he landed, I will not be offended in the least. Hug away ladies, I get it!

And now, for my last #tribaldrama of this trip: Just because the ceiling is high does not mean the weather is also high. As we flew, literally, right under these clouds, our little plane was tossed and turned like crazy. In fact, I kept looking at Brent to see if he was worried but he kept reassuring me that this was a “good day.” Yeah right. Anyways, our plane wasn’t the only thing tossing and turning. Apparently, Beau’s stomach was too because about halfway home he lost his breakfast all over Luke and me. Hmm, nothing like fighting air sickness while smelling someone else’s sick. Gross. At least he ate bananas for breakfast. Those smell about the same on the way out as they do on the way in.

So now we are back in our home (showered and bathed), back in our neighborhood, back in our normal life, with a bit more understanding of what it looks like for several of these families out in the bush. They were my heroes before this experience…now I am completely, one-hundred percent convinced that they really are incredible. And it’s not because they themselves are so special as to be able to handle this remote-living business but because clearly, they have yielded to the Spirit to such a degree that God is doing incredible things through them. It is in our weakness that we come to a place of full surrender before him. And it is through humility that we are able to acknowledge that surrender for what it is: the opportunity to be used in amazing ways by our amazing God. So thanks to all our church-planters who are on the front lines, fighting this spiritual battle here in PNG. We are beyond honored to serve as one of your pilots!

And lastly, thank you David, Shari, and Jason Ogg for inviting us to your home and letting us do life with you in Simbari for a while. It was inspiring to share in the fruits of your labor as we spent time with the church there. We love you guys!

Related Posts

NINETEEN DAYS IN SIMBARI (PART ONE)

NINETEEN DAYS IN SIMBARI (PART TWO)

NINETEEN DAYS IN SIMBARI (PART THREE)