War. What a word. It brings images to mind of hardened soldiers, machine guns, smoke, fire, blood, and bomb blasts. Of dictators fighting for power, and the weak taking their last stand against them. It makes one think of famous battle scenes from movies like Sparticus, Gladiator, Ben-Hur, and countless others… being able to fight for something other than yourself, to be able to shout "FREEDOM" like WIlliam Wallace, and see nations changed. Yet, the reality of war is much different.
The movie, Amazing Grace, about the life of the famous British abolitionist William Wilberforce, has a quote from the hymnst, John Newton. When asked if Wilberforce should take on the slave traders, he said, "Do it. You won't come out of those streets clean, Wilber. You'll get filthy with it, you'll dream it, see it in broad daylight, but do it. For God's sake."
That is war. That is THIS war. This spiritual war we are fighting for the lives of people all over the planet. It is not just for us, it is for God's sake, and for the sake of the people He loves.
In Bungoma, we came face to face with this war, this fight for this little city, in a small hospital on the outskirts of town. In the children's ward, we saw a young boy, about 9 years old, being held in his mother's lap, expected to die of extreme Malaria. With tears down her face and pleading in her eyes, the mother nods, yes, please, pray for my little boy. Three of us surrounded the bed to pray and reached out our hands to touch the boy, wracked with fever. We were unprepared for what came next. Upon our touch, his entire body began convulsing and he began crying out, yelling and thrashing beyond control. His mother tried to quiet him, but when that didn't work, she began crying out as well, thinking that her boy must be dying. We knew otherwise. As soon as we took our hands off of him, he quieted and went limp again. Yet, when I put my hand on him again to pray, he began thrashing th
e same way, as if something was trying to break out of him. We looked at each other and began praying. This was my first direct encounter with a demon, as it clearly was. I remember that right before we moved on to another bed, the boy opened his eyes and looked dead into mine, and I shivered. It was clear that demonic eyes were looking back at me, but even so, I could feel the blank ones of the boy inside pleading with us to save him.
Nothing miraculous happened in that moment. No demons came out of him, and until the last moment we were at his bed, he still thrashed whenever we touched him. I didn't understand it. I didn't understand why the demon (s) was still tormenting him when we told it to leave in authority. If we really have that authority, then why didn't it obey us? I still don't know the answer, but I struggled for a while afterwards with that question. However, I still trusted God, and it turns out that was not the end of it, as I had thought. I essentally believed we had failed, and that it just must not have been God's will to save him (as has often been my go to in the past with things I cannot understand). And, as that broke my heart, I tried to push the thought of that little boy out of my mind and just move on to the next.
How many times have we done that; let our circumstances dictate whether we believe God's promises are real or not? Or whether we misunderstood them, or were imagining what we heard from God, or saw that day? Maybe it wasn't a demon, maybe I misunderstood my authority in Christ, maybe I was just too weak, etc… How long are we going to let those lies permeate our minds and hearts? How long are 
we going to try to rationalize away what God says or does? How long are we going to use, it must not have been God's will, to give God an out clause in our own mind? As if He needs one. Are we ever going to realize that we just might never understand His ways? Am I?
"The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." John 1:5
God's ways are mysterious. We visited the hospital again three days later, and the boy's mother saw us walking the hallways randomly. I had been prepared to hear he had died, but she was elated, he was COMPLETELY HEALED. After a day and a half, he had been discharged from the hospital, and they were only still there because they hadn't paid the fees yet. Rejoicing, we went in to really meet Eugene for the first time, and tell him again, what his mother had already told him, how God had saved his life. Once again his eyes met mine, this time clear and free, and full of joy. I will never forget it.
I have no idea why God waited until we left to free him and heal him completely, but I bet it had a lot to do with showing me what faith really is. Faith, is knowing that God is able to do what you ask, believing that He is going to do it, but even if He does not, still trusting that He is good, and that His promises are real. And I believe in faith, that whatever we ask according to His will and His word, WILL be done, whether it happens the moment we ask, and in front of our eyes, or not.
Remember, this war will leave you dirty. It is not fought in a day. We saw several healings in Kenya, but we also had a baby die, and people blatantly refuse Christ, and even hurl insults at us and our Savior. Are you prepared for the battle? Are you prepared for the darkness to surround you and try to whisper it's lies into your mind and heart? Did you put on your armour this morning? Because the war is not just here in Kenya, you're in it as soon as you walk out your door… are you prepared, or are you trying to live the Christian life blindfolded, with your hands tied behind your back, not firmly rooted in the love of God, or believing in the power of the Holy Spirit?
Our God is mighty to save. We sing it all the time. So I ask you, is your God rich in power and mighty to save, or are His promises dictated by your circumstances, and His power bound to what you think? Believe in the goodness of our God. Because He is good, faithful, and true regardless, and so mighty in power. Be prepared. Believe. Put on your armour, and walk out your door ready to fight for those the Lord loves, including yourself.
(pics – Top: The Bungoma football (soccer) field, where many street kids hang out. Middle left: Two mamas we prayed for at the hospital that were overjoyed to see us everytime we came. Middle right: Jacklyn, a girl we prayed for who had been in the hospital for four and a half years, steadily declining and expected to die. She had never shown signs of improvement, but within a week of us praying for her, she was no longer skin and bones, but had a healthy glow, no more swelling in her hands, could lift her head to talk to us for the first time in all those years, and even sing again. Bottom: One of the boys we fight for in the orphanage, who always manages to have a smile for us. Unfortunately, none of us had our camera the day we went and discovered Eugene healed, so I don't have a picture)
