Friday, April 12, 2013

They Say He is the Rock

One great story to relay...  Two men spoke quietly among themselves in a new village where I was at today.  I'd been speaking to them about Christ, about working together peacefully in a village that has been somewhat volatile lately.  Both men confronted with me a delicate situation,  a woman with three children, the husband away in Port, and the whole family sick with fever.  

I felt immediately it was a test for them, to see if my actions matched my words.   I called a missionary friend right away to ask if I could bring them to their clinic, and they said I could.   We were a half-hour in the bush in a remote village. and the mother and her children were burning with fever.  The doctor at the clinic was about to leave, and the nurses would leave in another 2 hours, so I literally ran for the Land Cruiser to drive it up to her front door.  It was the vehicle of another missionary friend who was lending it to me to use since mine is untrustworthy at the moment.   When I got to the truck and put the key in the ignition, it locked tight and wouldn't turn.  

Nothing I tried worked.  The key would not turn.  I called the missionary and he stated he'd be on his way in 20 minutes, and for the rest of that time I continued to try the key.  I literally wore a blister onto my finger and drew blood, wiggling and jiggling this key as I thought of this mother and her little ones burning up, the clinic closing and not being open again until Monday after the weekend.  

When Les the missionary showed up, he didn't know any other special tricks and we had no other tools to try to disassemble the steering column.  I called the clinic, but the doctor had already left for the day and soon the nurses would be going home and closing up.  One of the men from the village who was most concerned about my intentions was sitting in the passenger seat watching me.  

Les called out to me that we didn't have a single tool, not even a hammer.   I looked down at a granite rock and my mind flashed back to when I watched a Haitian brother cut a wire with a rock in an emergency.   
"We have a hammer."  I said, picking up the rock. 
I sat in the drivers seat looking at this rock, with the man from the village wondering what I was about to do.  
I prayed aloud,
"Jesus, Please help us."

Then I took that rock and banged that ignition with two blows. Bam! Bam!  I turned the key and the engine revved!    The man's eyes lit up, and he said to me, "Your Faith!"
I said,  'That wasn't me!  Jesus did it!" 
Several of the kids in the village were there with big smiles.  "Jesus just did that!"  I said to them. 
Les laughed and said, 
"Well, you know, they say Jesus is the Rock!"   :)
It was a beautiful cap to the questions in the village. 

Another man hopped in and we short-cutted through a riverbed to the clinic just as the nurses were about to close.  They chose to stay open and help instead, and Gena, the nurse, was an immense help in explaining to the mother about the proper dosages of medicine.  
We bought the family some fresh bread on the way home, and they were overjoyed.   

Don't you just love how God can put His finger on something, and in one moment He can shush our doubtful hearts?  He reminds us so gently of our wavering faith and restores us with outstretched hands to His dry steps above the waves of uncertainty. 

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