Shelter in the Storm

Pastor P was a little late picking us up for the night village meeting. We had a few hours to rest, but our rest, made us restless. As we set off into the night, the rain began.

The backseat passengers (V, A & I) had to close our eyes, hold our breath and continue to pray for the perilous driving. The dark obscured people, cars without lights, and the varying pedestrians who would step into the roadway to make their way out of the rain.

We arrived at the turn off to the village, but the van was waiting to tell us the rain made the road impassible and we would need to take an alternate route. Through the back roads we encountered a variety of ox driven carts, goat herds and people making their way to and from, in the mud and muck for what reasons we could not imagine.

By the time we reached the village it was a full downpour. Pastor P had us wait in the car as they located a place for us to set up for the meeting. The crowd filled the one lane street, with heads covered by plastic bags, or whatever else would deflect the falling rain. After 15 minutes we were summoned as the location was prepared. We walked as quickly as our feet could slide across the muddy roadway, without falling, straight to the village Hindu temple.

There were no doors just a covered area with icons, painting, floral garlands and such, paying homage to the local monkey god. we were given chairs to sit on directly under the icons, which was disconcerting, but also empowering to proclaim the truth in a place designed by a lie.

Fifty or sixty children had crowded in, right underneath the platform and the adults stood gathering in behind them. We could see even the people across the street watching intently at who we were and what we were going to do and say.

The rain mercifully ended and many more adults gathered at the outskirts of the building to hear what was happening. Then missionaries began by singing their standard "Santo, shaloo koo tay" which tanslates "Happiness is bubbling up inside me because of Jesus." they sang and praised and the people watched.

I saw one of the children seated join in the chorus only to be smacked by his friend in the head. After Pastor P prayed, claiming the power of Jesus - I began. I shared the coloring book, the ropes, the Rainbow bag and story, using one of the orphanage home girls who had come with us.

The audience was responsive, laughing, and having a good time. V followed up with testimony and a clear presentation of the Gospel. A closed by praying for many of the young men who had come forward and A wept openly as he prayed for their deliverance.

As we closed one of the young men invited us into his house for tea and biscuits as a show of hospitality and thanks. V and I both remarked it was an occurrence that would never happen in America - spontaneously inviting 30 people into your home for tea!

As we finished, the young man asked for prayer and blessing for his family. He presented his mother-in-law, wife, children and finally himself. While asking for blessing is cultural here, the Name above the 33 million no-gods was proclaimed in the village, in the household and we left rejoicing in The Way.