It was another sweltering hot day – ‘Cambodia hot’, as one of my teammates likes to say. Sweat was dripping down my back and glistening on my skin as we mounted bikes to head out to the village. Home visits were a regular part of ministry (and one of my favorite parts); every day we visited families of the kids at the school and orphanage. Usually one of the missionaries came with us, but today it was just me, my teammate Heather, and one of the older girls from the orphanage who came to translate for us.
We rode for about 15 minutes, down dirt paths and through rice fields, following the girl from the school to her house. This house was farther out in the rice fields than any other home we had visited – the path was so narrow there were a couple times I almost lost my balance and went off the path into the dry rice field!
We finally made it to the house, and were greeted by pigs playing in the mud and chickens running in the yard. The family sat in hammocks under their house, and there were several children, as usual. They greeted us and welcomed us to sit on the table spread with a straw mat under the shade of the house. We sat, and the mother and grandmother came and joined us.
Families in Cambodia usually live together; when we visit one home, we usually meet parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters, and cousins. This day was no different.
We spoke with the sweet old grandmother and the mother of the girl from the school. They were friendly; we asked them about their families, and they even asked us about our country and why we were in Cambodia. They told us that a Christian team had come from Hawaii and built their house a few years ago, and another Christian group had dug them a well. But no, they weren’t Christians, they said when we asked.
At one point during the conversation, the aunt came over from next door. She had a baby in her arms and one of her hands was deformed. She explained that it happened in an accident 10 years ago, and she had no feeling in her fingers. I asked if she had seen a doctor, and she said no, when it happened she had gone to a witch doctor.
We asked if we could pray for her, and she agreed. We also prayed for the mom, who suffers from headaches. We didn’t see an immediate miracle, but I have faith that God is still working.
After our prayers, another aunt came over. She had long hair, all the way down her back and even longer, and it was all matted into one big dreadlock. The grandma excitedly pointed her hair out to us, and our friend who had come to translate told us that evil spirits live in her hair. She explained that if she cuts her hair, she believes she will die.
This was very interesting to me; I asked some questions, and found out that she was a local witch doctor. Apparently she had tried to come to the church before, but she couldn’t enter because her hair wouldn’t let her. “Her hair was shaking,” in the words of our translator.
Heather told her that she didn’t have to be afraid of the spirits in her hair; that if she cuts her hair she won’t die. She talked with us for a few minutes, then we left shortly after.
Back on our bikes, back through the rice fields, down the dirt paths, and back to the orphanage… the whole time soaked with sweat.
Later that evening I asked one of our missionary friends to explain the situation from our earlier home visit. This visit had been different; it felt spiritually dark, although I hadn’t been afraid.
She told me that this woman really was a witch doctor, and she never cuts her hair because of the spirits. She also told me the full story of when the witch doctor visited the church:
When the Christian school was just beginning at the church several years ago, they were unsure of how she would respond as the witch doctor of the community. But eventually she brought her niece to the school, because the family wanted the girl to learn English. Every time the aunt came to the school, she could never enter the gate. She told them, “The One who protects this place is more powerful.” The evil spirits would not let her even enter because they knew that our God is more powerful! The one time she did come into the gates, she had to leave because her hair really was shaking.
The most amazing part of this story is that she admitted that our God is stronger! She knows that He is more powerful than any evil spirits who have control over her.
All this to say, I never expected to visit and talk with a witch doctor. It wasn’t frightening at all, because she’s just a normal person who needs to know Jesus. And even though this home visit was a little different than other ones, I knew I didn’t have anything to fear because the God who lives inside of me is more powerful than any spirit of darkness. I pray that this woman comes to know the One True God and the love of Jesus, and finds FREEDOM from fear and bondage to evil spirits.
