Earlier this week our colleague found a three foot long, spitting cobra in his yard.  In the cool of the morning the husband went out to turn on their generator.  When he opened the door to the generator house, he was greeted by the snake who was in the hooded position.  Our colleague quickly backed out of the shed and closed the door; knowing that if the snake spit into his eyes he could be blinded, and if it struck him, the venom would be deadly.

Thankfully, the missionary was able to kill the snake before anyone was injured; although not before we arrived to take some action photos.

Two days ago, while waiting outside a store, I struck up a conversation with the young man sitting on the bench next to me.  After some small talk, I asked him if he prayed.  That is a common question here to find out if someone takes their Islamic religion seriously.  It is also a good way to start a spiritual conversation.

The young man, “Sal,” responded in the affirmative.  He said that he does pray, and that he had studied the Qur’an.  I asked him if he could understand what he was saying when he prayed, since Muslims are required to pray in Arabic, and he said no.  He had simply memorized the words to the prayers and repeated them from memory.

He asked me if I pray.  Knowing he was wondering if I was a Muslim, I answered “yes, I do pray” but was quick to emphasize that I am a follower of Jesus, the Messiah.  To this he replied, “Does he live in your neighborhood?”

I answered, “No, I mean Jesus the Messiah who is written about in the Gospel.”  Our discussion continued on, and two days later I was able to bring him a copy of the Gospel to see for himself.

Pray for Sal, and the others that I met there that day, that they will come to know Jesus, the Messiah for themselves.

Saturday was full of drama around our house.  David woke up and unlocked the doors to find our guard, Mr. B so sick he couldn’t walk. David took him to a colleague who used to be a nurse. She recommended he be taken to a local clinic for further examination. After trips to two clinics, David was able to find a doctor who knew what he was talking about. He then returned home to have lunch.

After lunch, David went to several pharmacies to fill Mr. B’s prescriptions. When he returned, I went out to open the gate for him and heard our two year old neighbor screaming. His grandma said he put his hand in a pot of boiling sauce. She wanted to know if I could help them. I had no clue about treating burns, so I ran inside and called our colleague. She came over right away and showed me how to treat a burn.

Now the toddler comes to our house every day at 4 o’clock for treatment. I am getting better at cleaning and dressing his wounds, but my hands still shake when I have to pull dead skin off his little hand. He should be totally healed within a week or two, and Mr. B will be well in a few weeks if he takes all his medicine, too.

I’m grateful for opportunities like these to reach out to those around us. It’s fulfilling to share the love of Christ in a tangible way. It also gives me hope that they’ll be more open to the Gospel when my language skills are sufficient to share it with them.