A Cloud of Witnesses
…a scene of dust and blood, of body parts strewn haphazardly, some still twitching, disjointed, bleeding out. Not one piece is connected to another and thus the entire body, broken apart and moments from death, lies collapsed in the sand, unable to move, unable even to seek help.
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Our Friend, John Chau: “A Buried Seed”
What John Chau was attempting was likely the hardest task that any missionary has attempted for at least the last few decades. And if that process began with him losing his own life? John was ready to offer it. And still forward he went…
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When Things Fall Apart
Sometimes, even in ministry, everything just falls apart. The foundation has crumbled, the walls have collapsed, the seed has rotted, and the sprouts are choked by weeds and burnt by the sun. Sometimes by the end, there’s nothing to show for our years of efforts.
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The Sacrifice
The chanting began as everyone gathered behind the stones. I was summoned, and one older lady came over to help me tie my traditional cloth properly around my body. Then I was told to take off my shoes. She walked with me over the burning hot sand to where everyone was already seated…
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Death and Life
Several scattered skulls, the stench of rotting flesh, and a handful of abandoned shacks were the only things remaining from the week’s festivities that ended just that morning. The quietness of our village was a huge difference from the hundreds of people partying and worshiping their ancestors here during the preceding days.
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Pressing On
It was three days before the day we’ve long waited for: the day we’d leave town, take a long ride in a van, go about one hour upriver by canoe, then three hours over hills and through rice fields by foot, and finally arrive in the village of Ambodihazina, where we’d begin a new work – making relationships, learning village life in Madagascar…
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