There is so much I could share with you about Nepal. I could pen a poem about the mountains, but words, nor a picture, could do the description justice. I could also tell you about the food we are eating, the crowded buses we have taken, or a number of other cultural topics. Those will come in time, either on this blog or in our conversations.
As Francis Chan has said on multiple occasions, and I feel the same way:
I just want to brag about my God.
After being here for a mere 10 days, I can see the ways that He is working in the lives of Christians here. These ways are difficult, however, to see on the surface.
One of our main ministries this month is to go to the homes of several Christians around the village and encourage them in their Faith. With less than 5% of the population being Christian, we pray that it is refreshing for them when we visit.
We ascended the trail that leads toward the top of the mountain. Simon, our contact and translator here, ran up the path like it was nothing. When we asked how he did that, he said “I’m Nepali, and we are in Nepal.” He has had several classic answers such as this and he is always fun to be around.
As we walked by some small brick homes, Simon motioned for us to go inside the home.
The doorway wasn’t any more than five feet tall, and the ceiling in the house wasn’t much higher. Once my eyes adjusted to the dark, dirt covered room, I recognized the woman that lived there. My team and I had met her at a church service on Saturday. With a frail-looking posture and the look of exhaustion on her face, the woman asked the ladies on my team to pray for her.
As Simon translated her soft-spoken words, we learned that she came to church on Saturday feeling as if she was dying. She said that she has felt this way on multiple occasions, and each time she prays and feels better. She told the ladies that their prayer healed her once again and we could see the gratefulness in her tired eyes.
We learned more about her life during our visit. She has no family around. Her son is an alcoholic that only comes around every so often before leaving again. I remember wondering how someone could let their elderly mother live alone in a shack on top of a mountain.
As we left and continued the rest of the way down the mountain, I reflected on the Faith that this woman is displaying simply by living her life. As I nearly slipped and fell several times on the steep trail, it occurred to me that this woman walks the same path to church every week. The journey to church would take at least an hour, likely more.
Still as I write this, her life serves as an encouragement and reminder of what it means to be hungry for God. Even though I haven’t witnessed her struggles in their entirety, I have seen enough to know that the God she is worshiping, the God we are worshiping, is worth knowing.
Worth knowing when we are comfortable and worth knowing when we are uncomfortable.
Worth knowing when we are healthy and worth knowing when the end seems near.
Worth knowing when we are surrounded by a solid Christian community and worth knowing when we stand alone.
