One afternoon we heard a most
exquisite birdsong, smacking chirps followed by a longer note.
I named it “the kissing bird,” looking for it in a
tree. I enthusiastically mentioned it to our Chechewa translator,
who led to us a resourceful boy who had transformed a fragment
of a popped balloon into a musical mouthpiece.
In the first service I preached on the rock of revelation of
Jesus as the Christ, the Son of the living God. In confirmation
of the word I invited people to come forward for prayer and laying
on of hands in the name of Jesus. A man approached, stiff as a
mummy, his bloodshot eyes sunk into deep hollows in his face,
his beef-jerky skin stretched taut over prominent cheekbones.
The translator explained that the man had pain in his arms, legs,
and feet. After a few seconds' hesitation I cast unbelief from
my heart and boldly prayed against all sickness, disease, and
ancestral curses. The next day the man gave testimony that he
was walking without pain. On the third day his face was alight
with joy and he danced in worship, his arms raised in praise to
his God.
I felt led to prophesy to another man that he was a seer of the
Lord, that God was going to speak to him in dreams and visions,
even that night. He need not fear, for Jesus promised that His
sheep know His voice and will not follow the voice of a stranger.
The next day he testified that he had awakened trembling from
a dream of a “cloud of communion” from which a voice
invited him to enter and sit. Three times he dreamed the same
dream, returning and trembling each time. He was deeply moved
and encouraged in his faith that God could speak to his heart
in this way.
We travelled from our camp about 10 kilometers to the hut of
an elder who wanted prayer for his wife who suffered from a rapid,
irregular heartbeat. Charles laid his hands on her and spoke forth
healing in Jesus' name. The next day the elder testified that
for the first time in a long while his wife slept peacefully through
the night.
During a message on good news to the poor, I found myself challenging
the people to give offerings to their pastor. Pastor Manuel works
day and night for his 28 churches and many more “prayer
houses” in an area with a diameter of 250 kilometers (160
miles). Giving is the act of faith that breaks the bondage to
poverty, but even as I spoke I thought, “Who are you to
ask these people to give? It’s easy for you to say, but
look at them! They have nothing!” It was true, they live
in mud and thatch huts, carry water from nearby streams, cook
over open fires.
Nevertheless, the next day I was inspired to challenge them to
act out their faith. I asked them to think of what they would
like to give to their pastor if they could, whether 10,000 meticais
(40 cents), 5 kilos of maize meal, or even a goat. Then I sent
them outside to find something to symbolize that gift and then
return. Once back inside they held up their gifts and prayed to
the God who, “calls those things which do not exist as though
they did” (Romans 4:17). I invited the people to come forward
with their symbolic gifts. They came singing, one at a time placing
a leaf, a rock, a silver candy wrapper, a stick of bamboo, at
the feet of their pastor.
With great dignity Pastor Manuel received these symbolic offerings.
He stood, gathered them into a plastic grocery sack, and placed
them on the table before him. He thanked the people, lifting individual
items and speaking a blessing over the faith they represented.
At the close of Sunday morning worship, amid celebratory singing
and clapping, with pride and joy the people of Khande danced down
the packed dirt aisle to present offerings to their pastor. Bowls
of rice, maize, and beans, a bottle of cooking oil, a live rabbit
in a sack, a tube of toothpaste, gifts nearly overflowed the wooden
table. One little boy in a buttonless shirt with a belly as big
as his head was lifted into the air to hand Pastor Manuel a single
coin worth about one-fourth of a penny.
On the way back to Milange, Pastor Manuel confided that the day
before he had just shared the last of his toothpaste with one
of the orphaned young men who assists him. Today he was returning
with a full tube.
Diane Wonnenberg
Pemba, Mozambique
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