It was an ordinary Wednesday, but for me, it carried an unusual weight. At the train station, I bid farewell to my wife with a tight hug. We prayed together. The train whistled, and as I boarded, I felt a pang of silence in my chest. For the first time in over five years, we were separating. As I looked out the window, I saw her silhouette fade into the distance . . . and my heart already ached with longing.
Then another remarkable journey in my life began. As the train moved forward, the scenery changed like time itself as it stretched out before me: humble villages, children running barefoot, mothers with their children on their backs, street vendors shouting for attention, young people watching life pass by—a mosaic of survival. I saw tired eyes and hurried silhouettes. And I wondered: What are these people thinking? Do they know there’s a greater purpose to their lives? The African landscape blended with the sky in a silent spectacle, and in my heart, a certainty grew: They need Christ.
The 19-hour journey ended in the village of Chicualacuala, on the border with Zimbabwe. There, I was welcomed by Victor, our Bible worker, with a smile that seemed to translate God’s love. As Victor took me around to visit some of the Bible students, I met young Fania and then greeted Mano Timótio. We studied a bit with Mana Milagrosa, then visited with others in their homes, each a fertile field being watered with prayer and hope. Victor also introduced me to Beliscencio, a brilliant young man who discovered the truth about the Sabbath and accepted it. I will share his story on another occasion.
On Friday afternoon, the sun set, painting the sky with orange and gold hues. Victor and I praised and thanked God together for the blessings received and prepared our hearts for the Sabbath. The next morning, we held the worship service at the home of a widower named Félix, a simple and generous man who offered his home for small group meetings. There were 21 of us that day, and what I saw there was pure joy. The children sang with enthusiasm. God’s Word was shared openly, and everyone participated in a biblical discovery of Matthew 4:1-11. In rapt attention, everyone listened as young Childo read the passage in Portuguese, which Mana Ema then read again in Xangana, the local dialect. Little Isabela then retold the story in her own words, and the group helped fill in the missing details. It was wonderful to see their interaction with Scripture. In the end, they realized that Jesus obeyed the Father in everything and was victorious over temptation.
In the afternoon, two young people who had attended the service accompanied us to Victor’s house. They stayed with us until sunset, learning new hymns and talking about life. Later, we went to a basketball court where I met other young men Victor had reached through friendship and sports. I did not know how to play, so I just watched, but I realized something: it was not about the game. It was about sowing eternal values in young hearts.
On Sunday morning, we gathered together the members of the new Pathfinder club. The children were attentive, enthusiastic about each activity and instruction, including a stretching session, followed by singing the Pathfinder hymn and saying a prayer. Next, we read and discussed the story of David and Goliath, and the children wrote about the Pathfinder ideals. After the club meeting, we played soccer. Since it was Children’s Day, I had brought small gifts for each of the children—toy cars and candies. It was heartwarming to see the joy on their faces and the sparkle in their eyes.
As I left on the speeding train, I marveled at how God had used Victor to touch lives. Today, he works with 48 Bible students. He started a Pathfinder Club, is known on the basketball court as a friend and mentor, and plants seeds of salvation every day.
Please pray for Chicualacuala. Pray for the children. Pray for the conversion of Mr. Félix and his family. Pray for each Bible student reached by this movement of faith. It is our hope that from this village, a great movement of disciples of Christ will arise and that the tracks that led me there will take the gospel to every corner of Mozambique.
“Do you not say, ‘There are still four months and then comes the harvest’? Behold, I say to you, lift up your eyes and look at the fields, for they are already white for harvest!” (John 4:35).
