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| A few weeks ago, I drove into a small village up in the mountains just outside Blantyre together with a car load of friends. I was nervous because our family car is really for the paved roads, and my dirt track was becoming smaller with every turn, until I felt I was on a path. Finally, I parked the car and decided to walk the last stretch. We walked down a small hill, and found a smaller village and a tiny church. It was so beautiful! I drank in the cool mountain air and spectacular view. The people had worked hard landscaping around the church, and clearing spaces for the women to sit. Our truck was following me with 50 or so women from the surrounding area.
Patrick was with us, because he wanted to spend the weekend with a friend in Blantyre. I thought we should put up the tent in the light, and with his help. The ground, having been freshly turned, was not very even and very rocky. We picked the rocks out of a spot and set up the tent, to Patrick’s definite disapproval. He felt it was on too much of a slope, in the path of a gulley if we should have rain, and generally not good at all. When the truck arrived with the ladies, he hopped on to catch a ride to Blantyre. His last words were, ‘Move the tent, mum.’ |
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| The ladies piled out of the truck singing at the top of their lungs. I felt the quickening of the Spirit and the excitement rising in my heart. We gathered to pray, to give thanks for safe journeys, and to commit the weekend to the Lord. I shared the story of Mary and her jar of perfume, and asked the ladies what they had to bring to Jesus, what they would say to Jesus in this quiet, beautiful place. |  |
| We sat outside and waited for the Blantyre ladies to arrive. We ate together, and nsima and greens tasted good. We laughed and enjoyed one another’s company. I was excited about what the Lord would do among us. The advantage of being tucked away in a tiny village was that we only had those ladies who were invited, without the hangers-on who usually turn up for food. This meant that our focus could be on discipleship, and on life in Christ. We had a wonderful weekend together, singing, praying, teaching, and learning. I was especially moved when two women sought me out to share their stories and ask for prayer. The chief of the village came on Sunday morning to ask for prayer. Later, he brought his mentally handicapped son for me to pray for. God was definitely moving. Patrick was right though, and we moved the tent for the second night! | |
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| I taught about our creation in the image of God, male and female to reflect the completeness of God. On the second day, we talked about sin and the consequences which follow: fear, shame, and blame. I was so encouraged between sessions when the women came to chat. They didn’t ask me for anything, but what I have been freely given, Jesus and his love. Of course, we couldn’t stay under condemnation, but we moved on to resurrection and redemption. What does it mean to be ‘dead to sin’ and ‘alive to Christ?’ We are no longer slaves to sin, but slaves to righteousness. We celebrated with great singing, and dancing.
I sat together with Ruth one morning looking out at the mountains. They made me think of Psalm 95, and we turned there together. As I read, a song began to form. Together we worked it out, and then taught the women. A loose translation reads: ‘Our God is awesome, the great chief. All the earth is in his hands, even the mountains. The rivers are his; the fields are his. He is the creator of all. I am his; you are his. He is our creator! Let us praise him! Let us worship him!’ I pray that other new songs will be birthed in the hearts of these women. |
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| I will just close with a word about baths in the bush. Early in the morning, the village awakes. Dogs bark, kids play, and women carry water. Everyone talks about us as they walk by the tent, assuming that because they see us we can’t hear them. It is quite entertaining. They like our ‘house,’ so easy to put up and take down. There is a ‘knock’ at the door. ‘Your bath is ready.’ I am the first to go, and I follow my host down a steep path. She points towards a narrow passage under the roof of a mud house. I bend down so as not bump my head, and find myself in a beautiful outdoor ‘bathroom’. There is a pile of big rocks to stand on. A bucket of steaming water has been placed there for me. Vines create a wall around me, but the mountain and the path below are clearly visible. It is so beautiful, and the water so lovely and warm. How I am loved by these women, and by my Creator God! It is a great privilege to serve these women, and also to receive from them. |  |
