This is my second time following The Pastor to East Malaysia on his ministry work there that he has committed to the last 30 years of his life. A contingent of camp facilitators travelled into the rural area of Miri, Sarawak (about 20 odd of us) to minister to the indigenous children living in the area.
It's quite close to the town actually, so the place was actually in a good state. Much better than Sabah, my first trip in March. The toilets were excellent; again, compared to Sabah. But the local pastor's wife is really a superhero. She does everything that needs done, cook, minister, pray, counsel, lead, and diligently washing the toilets everyday.
A view from the church overlooking the village. Right in the middle of the picture is a pig's pen,which is apparently very close to the long house (the Iban tribe traditionally lives in a very long house together as a community) that the girls in the camp was meant to sleep in. The boys were to sleep in the church itself. Apparently. I never made it there.
Before arriving at the village all of us were in the host church in Miri town where we joined the morning Sunday service. During the service, one of the camp leaders had a vision from God. She saw clouds forming over the church hall, and then it parted in the middle where fire poured down from heaven to spread and cover the congregation and felt God say, "I am here." She shared this with me during lunch and it reminded me how during worship, I too had seen in my head my hands waving over my head like I was waving clouds apart to reveal a patch of blue sky. I shared both our visions to Pastor Sandra who during the service stood behind me and she too shared that at that exact moment she sensed that God was going to do something.
All these 3 moments happened at exactly the same time, of which I know because I remember distinctively we were singing a worship song. It had slowed down and the voices grew soft, when suddenly the musicians and singers started to pick up again and Pastor Sandra had marked it by blowing her shofar (a traditional Israelite horn). This was the moment me and the other leader had had our vision.
Later in the afternoon when we arrived in the camp, Pastor Sandra went to work surveying the "land". After awhile she came back and pointed out that there was not a single cloud in the sky except this particular cloud, and the camp leader who had the vision confirmed that the cloud was exactly like how the fire had rushed down from heaven to cover the people.
Perhaps it is coincidence, but I believe in a God where nothing, no matter how small is of coincidence. Every single thing that happens is because He is all powerful and in control of every minute detail.
As the days passed, many more would share how they saw visions of cloud and fire and none of them knew of our visions as only the senior leaders shared the visions amongst themselves.
This is the senior leaders and Pastor Sandra checking out the clouds.
It sure was dramatic, this camp, even from Day 1. So many stories!
For months leading up to this camp the leaders found themselves engaging in a lot of spiritual battles they knew was connected to this camp.
Weeks before the camp started there were 4 deaths in this village! The 5th death happened on the first night! It was a big concern as we didn't know whether the villagers would ask us to leave, or request us not to sing and clap as we do as they were in such deep mourning.
On the first night itself (actually, every single freaking night) we would go head to head in battle with the Darkness. A few of us remained at the side of the villagers in the long house where they sat beside the body of the woman that had passed away, where they kept vigil over as part of their funeral rites. We felt strongly in our hearts we had to remain there until 6am, that we were battling through the night. When 6am came and the dawn broke, all of us who remained felt relief flooding us. We were certain things were happening in the spiritual realm and we could only catch glimpses that didn't make much sense to us. But we left the long house feeling triumphant.
A few hours later we received news that the villagers asked us to continue as we are with no restrictions on how we worshipped God.
Out of respect the girls moved into the church that they would not disturb the villagers, thus the separation of territory.
I never got a chance to see the long house the girls were to sleep in because it was work work work the moment we got to the village. And then I kept vigil with a few others at the long house with the mourners. How I kept awake and as alert as I did during the vigil was truly the strength of God too.
I went crashing to sleep at 8am on the second day in the boys room behind the church stage. I was the only one at that point of time and snuggled into a corner. When I woke up, I was surrounded by all these unconscious bodies strewn everywhere. They are all the facilitators who had kept vigil up till 3am until they were sent off to bed as they needed to run the camp in the morning.
After their chores were done, all of them literally found any spot they could and collapsed.
For someone who sleeps as much as I do, I was amazed at myself for instinctively waking up 3 hours later just in time for the next session where we needed to minister to the children and only going back to sleep when I was not needed.
Blessedly, for the next 2 nights, I would go back to luxurious comfort of the house of the host family in Miri to sleep as it was only 40 minutes drive away.
In this camp, the leaders and facilitators that serve seem to be the biggest winners. At least I do. Being there to minister to the children, and witnessing the power of God at work changes you. Because when you're out on the field, knowing how each child's life can be utterly changed by the power of God and knowing there is nothing you can do about it except be a conduit between God and them, you end up begging God to do it.
And that power that travels through you as a conduit to the children, leaves an indelible, unwashable mark on you.
I am of the belief, if people can feel the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual high that comes from the touch of God, they would never turn to drugs. Because no drug can match it. It is that moment when life makes most sense. When purpose enters life and conviction gains clarity.
These children are not as the city children are. Being community-based they instinctively give themselves more to one another. Their innocence and enthusiasm for friendship and relationship somehow is part of what helps them to receive God and His power a lot more easier.
These boys are part of the host church in Miri town. Their mothers come everyday to the village to help prepare food for the camp and the boys ended up refusing to follow the mothers home. They wanted to stay in the camp to make friends!
One of the nights we found them sleeping in the room early, while everyone else was still having their late night supper. They were strewn haphazardly on the floor and one of them had their feet on another boy's face, who didn't even stir because they were all tired out from the excitement of the camp.
Sigh. Too cute.
