Wum: White Already to Harvest

23 July 2007

On Saturday, July 21st, Pastor and Mrs. Needham, Daniel Needham, Sam and Abby Sanderlin, Pastor Julius, and I all crammed into the Needhams' Isuzu Trooper for a day trip out to the large village of Wum. Stopping briefly in the main square of the town, we had multiple witnessing opportunities within a matter of ten or fifteen minutes. One young boy asked me for a handful of tracts so he could take them back to his people. As we drove on down the road we were welcomed with great honor at the "palaces" of two fons (tribal chiefs). They eagerly reaffirmed their desire to cooperate with Pastor Tom's plans to put in an airstrip near the village. As we were leaving the palace of the second fon, a great crowd met our vehicle all clamoring for tracts. They were not simply fascinated by our white skin, they were hungry to hear what message we might have to give them. This large village has no church, no missionary, no Christians at all that we know of. And the field is white and open for harvest. Oh, please pray to the Lord of the harvest to compel laborers to go! There are thousands of villages just like Wum. Thousands are dying in the darkness everyday. It's not because they will not hear; it's more often because there is no one to preach to them.

the Hills

I headed up into the hills east of Sabga to stay in a Fulani house with a fellow believer. Joda was saved in 1992 at the age of 24 through the witness of Pastor Tom Needham. He has been serving the Lord faithfully in many ways since then and now lives in Bamenda traveling around to different villages as a counselor for the youth in this part of Cameroon. Joda and I stayed at his mother’s compound for one night helping tend the cattle and witnessing to the herdsman who is working for Joda’s mother. The hike and stay up in those beautiful Fulani hills was refreshing for my spirit. There is such natural beauty and majesty in the endless green views of that quiet place.

Independence Day in "the Uttermost"

written on July 4

Only once in the past three years have I been in the USA for the Fourth of July. I miss it, yet, let nothing stand between me and the Christ I follow. Celebrating Independence Day abroad is just part of being a missionary. Part of taking the Gospel to the uttermost. Can I say I do not have a desire to spend this day with my family in the beautiful countryside of my beloved homeland? To deny that would be to deny that I have natural human desires and loves. Yet, I find my fulfilling joy, my ultimate delight, the end of my pleasure only in my Christ! "Rejoice in the LORD!" May it be first and foremost in my own heart that I am a citizen of heaven and a stranger and an alien on this earth. Yes, I love the USA and I'm proud to be an American, but far stronger is the driving force in my heart of my heavenly citizenship.

Strangers in an Unworthy World

So what does it mean to be a stranger on this earth? What does it mean for this world not to be worthy of those heroes of faith from Hebrews 11? What does it mean to forsake all for Christ? I do not think I even know. I am a very rich man in this world-- compared to most; compared to Christ. So how can I know what it means to follow Christ, when, according to worldly "goods", I live so far above the level at which Christ Himself lived on this earth? How tightly am I holding on to the things of this world? With an open hand, but will my fingers spring shut if God begins to remove something precious from my hand?

Sunday night at church we watched "Flame in the Wind." I don't know how many times I've seen it, but this summer, my heart has been moved, rebuked, blessed everytime I watch those men face the Inquisition, suffer, stand, and die for Something they held more precious than anything in this world. They faced the flames with no fear, no grasping of anything or anyone in this world, only clinging tightly to Jesus Christ. To them, the world was not worthy of their lives. The world was death. Christ was life. And Christ alone was worthy of their affections and their life! So that's what it means-- "of whom the world was not worthy."

Menka

A village of 14,000 people tucked away in the hills of western Cameroon. A quiet village of farming families. A very lost village. For four days last week Katie, Rosemary, Gideon, and I traveled to all four quarters of this village carrying the Good News. Hundreds heard and several that we know of received the Son of God as their own Savior. Several men joined us at church Sunday morning as new disciples of Christ. Praise the Lord for the work He will do in that place! This summer I am truly learning the joy in Christ that surpasses all other earthly joys.

". . . Who Have No Hope . . ."

Two days ago, the Lamido (Muslim tribal leader) of Sabga passed into eternity. I attended the burial and watched as men prayed for the eternally damned soul of a man who had been sincerely religious in his own way. But sincerely wrong. He did what was right in his own eyes but rejected the truth in God's word. Many here have heard the truth, but rejected for various reasons-- fear, unbelief, the offense of the cross. And yet, many still have never heard the good news of the Gospel.

Elizabeth was witnessing to a girl after the burial, and, after hearing the truth, the girl noted, "Then that means the Lamido is in hell." Yes, despite all of the prayers for Allah to be merciful even now to this man's soul, those who sorrow must do so "as those who have no hope." Alas, this girl could not accept Christ for herself for fear of her Muslim parents.

Mountains, Valleys, Mangoes, and Fulani

This was written May 23. They are coming in all together. -Mom-

The light of the Gospel is slowly spreading across Cameroon, bit by bit. Today, Pastor Tom and I trekked over mountain and valleys for miles, visiting the Fulani compounds in the area. I cannot speak the language (Fulfulde) yet, but Pastor Tom had several really exciting opportunities to share the Gospel with these friendly Muslim people. They are in darkness now, but I know that the Lord will be faithful in bringing salvation to the Fulani. As Jesus Christ told Peter, “I will build my church . . .”

He is doing just that in this very area. Sustained by a couple of mangoes pulled from a tree along the trail, we hiked all day down to Camp Joy—taking the scenic route across the mountains and cliffs—arriving there around three in the afternoon. What a blessing to see what the Lord has done in that ministry: raising up Godly men to lead and building facilities to make the summer camps a possibility. Yes, Jesus Christ is indeed still working, building His church, and not even the gates of hell can stop His work!