The Desert, The Priestess, & The Spider
categories:
Miracles
I could hear the evil.
When I was a child, I believed that good and evil were the fanciful extremes of fairy tales and myth. I was wrong.
Haiti is currently the poorest country in the Western hemisphere. At the age of 18, I traveled there hoping to make a difference. Young, sheltered, and clueless, I only knew that I felt called by God to take this short term medical trip. I’d even spent three years of high school learning to speak French. I felt that if could make a decent attempt at the language, I could make a better connection with those I spoke to. Instead, what I witnessed only made me want to shrink back and disappear. Because maybe if I closed my eyes and pretended it wasn’t there, then I wouldn’t have to deal with the reality that such a level of suffering and abject poverty existed.
We rose early in the morning to pack the truck, a large rusting beast. When started, the engine would snarl, gears grinding in protest, and I wondered if the machine could get us from point ‘A’ to point ‘B’ without breaking down in the middle of nowhere. Sometimes there were roads, and sometimes there were paths of dust and rock cut to resemble roads. Fourteen hours later, we reached our destination; a village nestled high up in the mountains.
I was so overwhelmed and exhausted by the end of that day, I graciously accepted a thin wiry mattress as a place to rest my head and pass out. News of our arrival spread quickly and we had angry visitors that night. Voodoo worshipers danced and cavorted wickedly around the four concrete walls that kept us safe. Or maybe the walls had little to do with our safety. I dreamed of being surrounded by angels, and woke hearing the sounds of Voodoo drums and chanting ‘worshipers’ that sounded like roosters screaming in the night. I could hear the evil. I could feel the heaviness of it as it clung to the air like a rotting stench. Their screams and cackles seemed so close; suffocating and relentless.
Pray. You are safe, April. Pray. Don’t be afraid. Pray. I thought of the verse I’d learned as a child to cast away the bad dreams.
“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.” Deuteronomy 31:6
Finally dawn broke, and a newer sweeter sound pierced the air. The village Christians had gathered in the church to sing hymns of praise. Calm gathered around us and quickly smothered the noise of the Voodoo worshipers. Soon, all that could be heard was the sound of God’s children raising their voices to Him; beautiful, powerful.
That morning my devotional scripture was 1 John 4:4:
“You, dear children, are from God and have overcome them, because the one who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world.”
From that point on, I decided that shrinking back into a corner of avoidance would serve no one but me. Good and evil are real, and someone’s got to stand and fight. I’m willing, Lord. Send me.
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