I have always been afraid of flying. The motion makes me sick, the ups and downs. If the flight were just straight I would probably fair better. Wednesday was like that. One moment we were soaring high and the next, my teeth hit the ground. I was aware of something coming up because Felix (who ministers with me) was attacked by the voice of the enemy on Sunday morning. I knew something was coming for me but no matter how much we know it’s coming, we never really believe it when it hits us.
Wednesday morning, we were in Kamphata. We arrived and made our way to the top of the rock that we love so and took in the view while waiting for the youth to arrive. That was when we heard about the funeral in the village below the rock. A little group of children told us while I took their pictures (they love the camera). “Our grandmother died”. They said so matter-of-factly. Little did we understand that this meant we could not have the meeting there. So we moved to another church ten minutes away. There are many things I am learning here. It is always humbling.
The meeting was exciting. We had a solid group of 40 youth. We broke into small groups and had a bible study on 1 Timothy 2/9-12 (one young man asked the question about its meaning). I was so proud of them. They had never been in study group but for one guy and yet they were able to use Deborah, Mary Magdalene and the woman at the well as their scriptures to solidify their stance on women being able to minister. And the girls spoke!
The afternoon was a surreal and dreamlike experience. The only way I can explain it is that the enemy lay in wait for us and POUNCED! That is how it felt. The air was noisy, busy, crowded. I felt it when we went in. Felix reiterated it. There was a lady there and when I saw her I heard something inside say, “she’s powerful”. I thought it to mean ‘in the spirit’ – the ‘good’ spirit. I was wrong. She was powerful alright. She was the wife of the founder of the church. She seemed resistant to everything we said. We immediately felt like we had be thorn onto a battle we had no knowledge of. It wasn’t that she challenged everything but the WAY she did it. It was the air tightening and silent slamming door after everything she said. It wasn’t until she threw the bible on the floor that I knew this was more than a deceived believer. I don’t know, I can’t really tell for sure but every fibre in me said this thing was angry and out to destroy. I cannot relate the entire experience other than to say, I was left wounded. Yes, wounded. I felt violated, like someone had put me up to scorn and jeer at. There was a constant repetition of ‘since you claim to be a teacher’ and ‘God will show your true colours on the day’. When we left my body was hurting so bad, I felt it to my fingertips. It is the most difficult teaching on salvation I have ever done.
I remember the pastor from the morning session (who accompanied us) comment as we drove away, “there was something ugly in there.”
But the enemy doesn’t get to win. He doesn’t get to deter nor keep us down. No matter the thorns, no matter the rocks, there is always good ground and I believe in the midst of it all, the message of salvation touched someone! I must believe that whenever the word is spoken there is always the one quarter opportunity for good ground!