For hours we have been driving through rugged mountains and dusty hills. Although not normally a fan of SUVs, this time I am glad we are driving in a big, heavy car. The roads are not always very smooth and livestock regularly wanders onto the tarmac. Goats, donkeys, cows… they seem to belong to no one and are completely indifferent to the cars trying to push past them.
We are on our way to visit some missionaries in the town where they made their home. They settled in a small city literally miles from nowhere. We drive mostly through empty wasteland. Sometimes we pass a small settlement with some low, yellow brick houses. Animals roam around, as do children. I see a little boy with no pants on chase his brother with a massive super soaker. Women and girls sit on low walls, chatting. Others carry packs or feed some poultry. There is not a smartphone in sight, nor other conveniences, such as supermarkets, but I see animal cadavers hanging on hooks here and there, being prepared for consumption. And everywhere there are local delicacies for sale along the roadside, such as nuts and large watermelons.
It is already dark when we arrive in the small city. While our driver settles for a well-deserved nap, we are welcomed by the young missionary family. They have prepared a table full of fruit, cakes and drinks for us in the educational facility they run.
After the long drive, I am in need of a bathroom. The school does not have one, so I am taken to the little apartment where the family lives with their two children. It could be described as basic. The rug and pillows on the floor make it somewhat homely. The kitchen is quite open, and I wonder what critters visit there. The bathroom has seen better days, much better days. I pull myself together and use the facility, flushing with the bottom half of a plastic bottle which sits in a bucket.
It is clearly not an easy place to live for a young family. I ask the parents how they educate their children. They are going to local schools and are slowly learning the local language. It is a struggle. The parents too do their best to master the language. There is no language program they can follow and so they learn mostly by interaction. The mother has the benefit of access to the women’s world of kitchens and cooking, where women get to talk and share. Her language is now better than her husband’s.
Learning language is not only a ministry necessity – it is also important to combat loneliness. There are a few other foreigners in town, but none of them are believers. I ask if they have fellowship with local believers in the town. “There are none,” they reply.
The aim of our visit is to encourage them. After talking and praying for several hours, it is time to go. It is very late, and we have many hours of driving ahead of us. We try to excuse ourselves that we cannot stay to eat the wonderful meal she has spent all afternoon preparing for us. A final handshake and we are off, back into the night.
Reaching the lost in closed nations with the gospel is a beautiful vision. Back to Jerusalem missionaries carry it in their hearts and dedicate themselves to completing the Great Commission. But the reality often involves isolation and loneliness, a lot of discouragement and failure, uncomfortable living conditions and bumpy roads. This family and many other like them sacrifice and persevere. But they need the prayers of God’s people. Please remember them!
