On Thursday, our contact Bim took us to a remote village high in the Nepal mountains. After three hours of bumping up rough mountain roads, we finally pulled in to our destination. We piled out of the vehicle, glad to be able to stretch our legs as we took in our surroundings. The village center was a couple of wooden houses. The villagers stared at us with interest as we walked towards the church. “Namaste,” we greeted them, and they smiled as they returned the greeting.
When we came in sight of the church, the front yard was filled with children. They giggled when we spoke to them. For many of them, this was the first time that they had ever seen foreigners before. The children asked to sing a song for us. As they begin singing, a little boy in the front caught my eye. His arms and legs were thin, his knees were swollen and he was unable to stand straight. His thin face was lit by joyful smile as he sang along. As he attempted to do the actions for the song, he lost his balance and fell over. Compassion filled my heart for this little boy, and I asked Bim about him. “His name is Shofall, he is twelve years old and is an orphan. We don’t know what is wrong with his arms and legs,” he told me. The desire to pray for Shofall filled my heart.
At this point the song finished, and my team were asked to lead the children service. So we sang songs, played a game and told a Bible story to the children. Throughout the service, my eyes were continually drawn to Shofall. He sat behind the other children, unable to play the game or to sing the action songs, but his dark eyes took in every detail.
The service adjourned with a final prayer and the children streamed outside where they were served rice with a lentil topping for lunch. Finished with our own lunch, we joined them. The children loved having their pictures taken, giggling when they saw pictures of themselves or their friends. Shofall, was sitting by himself, his lunch still smeared across his face. I sat down beside him, asking his name. He responded in English and was also able to tell me his age. Unthinkingly I asked if he liked cricket or football. He said yes, but there was a sadness in his eyes. Realizing how hard it must be for this twelve year old boy to watch his friends play football, when all he could do was watch from the sidelines pulled at my heart. I asked to take his picture and when he saw it, a smile lit his face. “Is it okay if we ask Jesus Christ to heal you,” I asked him. He looked at me uncomprehending.
Bim walked up and saying it was time to go. My team was gathered around Shofall at this point. Through a translator, I again asked if we could pray for him. Shofall nodded his head. Together we laid hands on him and prayed. At the last Amen, we opened our eyes. Nothing had happened.
Shofall gazed back at us. Disappointed, we prepared to leave when Davis asked if we could pray one more time. So again we prayed. On opening our eyes, Shofall sat unhealed. We said our goodbyes, and begin walking down the mountain trail. Looking back over my shoulder, I saw a sight that stopped me in my tracks. Shofall was following behind us. His shuffle was slow and unsteady, but persistent. He walked with us the entire way to the jeep.
When we reached the jeep, Davis asked to pray on last time. Shofall assented so we gathered around him again. When we finished praying, we looked up expectantly. Shofall was exactly the same. We said our goodbyes one last time and piled into the jeep. Looking back as we pulled away, Shofall stood staring after us.
I questioned God as we drove away. “Why didn’t You heal him?” He didn’t answer me, but He did give me peace. I don’t know why God chose not to heal Shofall but I know that He loves Shofall more then I do. It was a privilege to meet this little joy-filled boy. I believe that someday he will be healed and I am going to continue to pray for him.
