Zimbabwe - Part 2

Our missions trip to Africa is made up of bits of broken memory-tiles. Some of the fragments are cheerfully bright, a few hopelessly bleak. Many of the patterns are exotic; like nothing experienced in our culture. During the plane ride home, the five of us are trying to sort the bits into some sort of mosaic that makes sense.

Don-
The first piece of tile I hold is inky black on the left edge but it blends toward vibrant colors on the right. We received word the wife of one of Rory and Judy’s employees lay sick. A demon was speaking through her ranting threats and boasts of oppression. As they say in Africa, we ‘made a plan’ to visit the troubled woman.

The ride out was a delightful adventure in its own right. Judy drove the old Landcruiser along a rutted track deep into the bush. We went left around a reed lined lake, up to the brown-green savanna, and inched between mufti trees. The canopy of the mufti tree is a few deft lines drawn horizontally in artists’ charcoal against a broad horizon. Time was gauged by changes in the sunset. The last amber rays threaded and danced through clouds of every shape and color. While watching that sunset nothing else mattered. Owls, doves, and a diker antelope sprang up before our cattle guard as it nosed its way through the grasses. Half-dozen black pastors bounced along in the truck bed chattering in Shona. They had come along in hopes of acquiring tools for defeating their unseen enemies.

It was dusk as we pulled up to a family gathered around a cooking fire beside their thatched roundoval. The husband brought us inside immediately. One of the many comical African inconsistencies met us. Inside the hut were: 1) a fire pit, 2) a grass mat, 3) the sick woman, and 4) eight folding plastic chairs in neat rows. If we hadn’t been on dire business I might have burst out laughing to see folding chairs miles into the bush where they don’t have a frying pan or a doormat. The husband quickly explained that goblins (his word) had been troubling his wife for nearly a month. “They beat her and say horrible things and then leave her ill. Just now she has pain in her head and cannot rise.”

On the trip out I was frightened into desperate prayers in anticipation of what we would face. Once we arrived at ground zero, a holy determination took over. I was ready to charge the enemy. Triage was simple. Through the interpretation of the husband we learned his wife had already been baptized into Christ at age 19. Further questions got to the heart of the matter. Bitterness and witchcraft were portals through which the demon entered and stayed. One year before, another woman hired a witch to send evil spirits against our patient’s father. The father shrank from life until he died and our troubled gal harbored hatred. Further, she herself had depended on a witchdoctor for medicine for her child. Hatred and reliance on evil power are two breeches strictly forbidden to the follower of Christ, no matter what the circumstances. Serious demon oppression, perhaps even possession, had followed. This is a lesson to us all.

We began to loosen the demon’s hold by leading a prayer for forgiveness in accordance with:

I John 1:9
If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.

Next, Pastor Bester and I knelt on either side of the suffering woman to pray the demon away. As I touched her listless shoulder it was hot with fever. I moved my hand to her forehead for confirmation as I silently mouthed to Nurse Judy, “She is burning up.” Bester began praying in Shona, “I command you evil spirits to leave in Jesus’ name.” I followed ordering the demons of hate, fear, and jealously to depart and calling on the Holy Spirit with anointing oil in accordance with James 5.

During the 15 minutes of prayer, we saw no manifestation but there was a supernatural result. The fever immediately left. We gave follow-up exhortations to the husband on assuming his appointed role as priest to protect his family through the power of Christ.

The surprising shades of this tile come from the fact the husband was a Methodist minister. The Lord demonstrated how badly Zimbabweans need spiritual training. Even church leaders are blinded by fear. Rather than proactive action they are quickly defeated by the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms (Eph 6:12). Our brothers and sisters in Zimbabwe need our help in many ways and we have been neglecting them. The family expressed gratitude by offering warm roasted peanuts as we came out of the roundoval.

Dani-
My favorite tiles were collected over dinner with the orphans. We were invited into two of the thatched cottages to join the children for evening sudza and relish. Sudza is a blob of sticky cornmeal eaten as the daily staple. A ball is pinched off, rolled in the right hand, then dipped into relish made of rape (like collard greens), onions, and gravy. A little chicken fresh from the Eden farm balanced the meal out. The Shona language flowed liberally and by the tones and gestures it was easy to guess what was said. “Krispen dear, please do sit up straight and show our guests your best manners.” “Agnes, could you help young Anyway to wash the sudza from his face? Thank you for being a big sister in God’s family.” It was deeply reassuring to witness how our resources, and yours, are making a real difference, in real lives, around real dinner tables.

After dinner the kids included the American guests in their nightly tradition. Everybody circled up to participate in a brief Bible devotion and prayer time. For me, the contrast in tile colors is what I’ll remember most. Right in the tiny township of Doma, seven people, mostly children, died during our time there. Children dig for roots, are abused, sleep in fields, and never know Jesu (Jesus). A few steps away inside Eden Children’s Village, rescued kids are healthy, giggling, and filled with the love of God.

Lindsey-
The fragments I discovered fit not only in Africa, they were also pieces missing from my mosaic back home. Some holes in my faith are now filled-in. I learned the God I love is a warrior. I clearly saw the work of Satan but also how weak Satan is compared to the greatness of God. We have abundant power available to us in Christ. I will no longer fear the work of the enemy but will take hold of God’s supremacy over all things.

I have a renewed passion for the spread of the gospel to the lost. There were many physically desperate people. That spoke to me about how much worse off are those who are spiritually desperate. Where there were blank voids in my understanding of God, there are now two vivid pictures. One is of God’s awesome power; the other is of God’s sadness over the lost. I am hanging on to these tile fragments. They are mine to keep forever.

We also played a lot of tennis on dirt courts. I’m not sure where these fragments fit into the mural, but it sure was fun.

Denise-
I could show you many beautiful, enchanting tiles I collected. But, the ones that will stay in my memory were collected as we traveled through the capital, Harare. They are sharp, jagged, and grim. Thousands of people, destitute and walking randomly, were along every street. They had nothing to eat, nowhere to be, no one to love. My heart breaks every time I pick up these chips and look at them. It is hard to believe there are so many desperate souls in this big world. Tears dripped from my eyes onto these tiles. I wondered what could possibly be done for the people. Then I looked at Eden Children’s Village and said, “That’s what”.

Steve-
My contributions to the African mosaic each have a graphic line running through them. They all line up, connected by a singular theme. One tile is the green organic garden with all kinds of vegetables and herbs. Lining up the ends of the graphic it is easy to fit in the next piece, which is also green. It is the banana, citrus, avocado, and papaya trees. Next to that belongs the dairy operation: black cows, yellow butter, thick white cream. Then there is the chicken operation and the rabbit hutches. The same line runs through the corn harvest underway during our visit. Soybeans, seed flowers, grain storage, clothes distribution, equipment maintenance, sewing, a medical clinic, thatching grass, housing construction, brick making, teacher and housemother training; they all share the same amazing line that connects God to orphans. God has protected each of these fragments, blessed them, and caused production because He promised to look after the widow and the orphan.

Colorful bits and pieces. Separately they are treasured memories, but only when they are arranged together does a cohesive image emerge. When we stand back to take in our mosaic what do we see? It is a picture of God cradling a hurting and bent nation while frenzied enemies swirl about. From God’s countenance, we can see He has a decided plan and He will love his people through to its completion. And so, we will simply name our picture, Future Hope.

Prov 23:17-18
Do not let your heart envy sinners,
but always be zealous for the fear of the LORD.
There is surely a future hope for you,
and your hope will not be cut off.