Angry shouts interrupted our morning family worship. Concerned, Pam got
up from the breakfast table and looked out the window toward the health
clinic next door. The usual crowd stood on the clinic porch and spilled
down its steps, but something was wrong. At the center of the crowd, an
argument had erupted between clinic workers and some bystanders, and
everyone seemed to be caught up in the dispute. Women glared and hurled
threats at the besieged workers. Men gripped their bush knives tightly,
their faces tense.
Pam returned to the table visibly shaken. “John, I think something very
bad is about to happen over there.” Immediately sensing the need for
God’s help, I gathered my family in prayer, and we poured out a fervent
request for the safety of the clinic staff. Ending my prayer with a
request for God’s protection and wisdom, I got up from my knees and
headed over to the clinic.
When I arrived, I found the porch cleared and guarded by my two friends,
Sampson and Martin. Entering the clinic, I saw my friend Tokengo, the
nurse in charge of the clinic, sitting on a bench bleeding from a gash
in the top of his head. As the other clinic workers cleaned, sutured and
bandaged his wound, his story came out.
The previous day, a man from a neighboring village asked that his wife
be flown to the hospital. Since the air ambulance is reserved for
critically sick patients, Tokengo declined his request. The next
morning, a large group of angry people from the man’s village returned
with a boy suffering from malaria and began to harass the clinic staff
as they cared for him. Tempers flared on both sides, and eventually a
man grabbed Tokengo’s head and struck it against a board.
Later that week, Tokengo told me that he and Rosalyn, the other clinic
nurse, felt their lives were in danger and would be leaving the
following Monday. My heart sank. Both had become dear friends to my
family and me. Their services are important to our health, the health of
the surrounding villages, and the work of our mission. Quietly, I
replied, “Tokengo, I hate to see you go, but I do understand your
decision. I must be honest with you, though, and tell you that I’m going
to pray that you change your mind.”
That weekend as I earnestly asked God to work on Tokengo’s heart, a
spiritual struggle raged. By Sabbath afternoon, God had won. The fear
that had gripped Tokengo’s heart left him, and in its place he
experienced the peace of God. Radiating joy, he shared with me how God
had convicted him that he should stay and continue to minister to the
people of May River. I praise God for giving Tokengo the courage to stay
and serve those who hurt him. Please pray that his decision will draw
them to Christ.
