I am walking down a sandy footpath. The sunset in front of me, painting the sky in beautiful hues of golden oranges and yellows, full of light and hope. How I thank God for this beautiful display! It has been a long, hard day and in this sunset I see His goodness revealed in a magnificent manner. The luminous clouds however are surrounded by darker ones promising rain, reminding me of the task at the end of this footpath.
Here I found a two day old baby that has not fed since shortly after birth. He is very dehydrated, his breaths coming in quick puffs from lack of nourishment. His mom is still a teenager, no more than 15, I guess – a perfectly normal age in this culture to be married and have your first child. The baby is too weak to drink and she has no idea how to help him. Her mother, aunts, father and many other family members all sit on grass mats in the gathering darkness, eagerly looking towards me for an answer…
I hold out my arms to take the baby. How perfectly he is formed, with his long cold tiny fingers. I ask for another piece of cloth, hoping to restore heat and life to this little person. My heart melts as I hold him. Lord, may this little one grow big and strong and healthy! May he grow up to know you…
I do what I can to teach the young mother how to extract milk and feed the baby with a medicine cup I brought along. I explain what is needed, show pictures from a “Where there’s no Doctor” book, and leave some vitamins for her. How totally inadequate do I feel! How I wish to infuse this family with hope and life! But it is not mine to give. I can only transfer what I have received…
As I walk back in the dark, I muse on the huge job God has given us, the Church, to reach the unreached. Obviously no car or other vehicle have passed here before. Ever. The family I left behind is known to us, but they are too far away to come to the Bible teaching each afternoon. It may still be months or years before they have their first chance to hear the Gospel. As despair wants to grip my heart, I am reminded that He knows and loves the Mwinika people far more than I ever can! His timing is perfect and His ways are just.
Still, are we obedient to His command to go and make disciples? I finally reach our vehicle where I left it when I could go no further. As I drive back in the hard darkness – the kind that you find only in a place where there is no electricity! – I pass a flickering evening fire here and there like small beacons in a land of solid black. The spiritual darkness in this place stares me in the face and mocks me. Suddenly I can understand that some prefer to hide in their own comfort zones, holed up from the pain and death of our world. But can we really afford to hide in our own lives, pretending that there is no need around us? In the end, will it not hurt us more if we try to “protect” ourselves from God’s command to “go”? The Darkness is there and no hiding will change that! God sent us to bring His light, to BE His light in this world. I can do only that.
Lord, send labourers to gather in the harvest. The harvest is ripe, but the labourers so very, very few…