Gazing out my screened window tonight, I see the full moon peeping through the jack fruit tree and a bright star vying for my attention. As I take a deep breath and let my senses tune into the night sounds, I hear the constant background serenade of peeping frogs and droning insects. The air is cool tonight, and there is a slight breeze. The babies in our house are quiet, and I don’t hear my neighbor coughing tonight. I’m glad her pneumonia is clearing up. The spirit-calling gongs are silent tonight. After the din of the siburan (rice wine ceremony) last night, perhaps they will allow us a few nights of blessed quiet. The neighbors just up the hill purchased a generator for their Christmas splurge, and it isn’t running tonight either. Home builders have been running chainsaws daily for about a week. I’m glad they are taking their nightly break. The lawnmower that my son-in-law (Bubit’s husband) has been using is also taking a rest, but I hope to hear it running tomorrow, cutting grass around the school while classes are out for the weekend. It would be nice to have the area around our house mowed tomorrow as well, as the jungle is threatening to take over again. Amazingly, our yowly cat Milo is quiet tonight, too. Soon, he will probably find a new home down at the project farm in the lowlands where he will have more space and fewer people to annoy. And our dog Chaddie isn’t barking or growling at anything or anyone tonight either. I should be sleeping—it’s past my bedtime—but I just keep thinking and praying.
I think about the people who live just around us, and I wonder what it will take to fully change their hearts. I think of Jilin’s elder sister Mumul, her husband Didung and their children who live just down the hill from us. Didung no longer attends church, but Mumul is mostly faithful and helps lead the childrens’ Sabbath School. This family struggles to live consistent Christian lives. I’m so glad God knows their hearts and that He is working with them still.
I think of my elderly blacksmith neighbor Sanu and his wife Sira who live across the creek—how sweet they are, and yet how far they seem from accepting the Gospel. They are simple, self-sufficient folk who mostly keep to themselves. Sanu’s son Bingguy and his wife Nislid also live in this small gathering. Both are baptized, but they struggle with emotional issues and attend church infrequently.
I’m concerned for Abew and his pregnant wife Mitil. This will be their eighth child, and they didn’t want any more. Mitil works very hard to keep her family fed. Abew, a simple-minded, impressionable witchdoctor, doesn’t know how to work hard, though he seems to care about his family. Mitil is open to the Gospel, but she is hard of hearing, and it is difficult for her to understand and grasp concepts in Bible studies. However, she loves to sing (her first song was B-I-B-L-E in Palawano), and she wants very much to learn and grow. Abew has been reluctant for his family to receive skilled medical care, but he has gradually become more open. I’m so glad that he allowed three of his children to attend our mission school. The eldest daughter, Diliya, is now married, and she and her husband are both church members.
Then there is our “grandfather” Mentapang who lives in his son-in-law’s guest house. He is illiterate, but he listens to an audio portion of the Palawano New Testament produced recently by Wycliffe Bible Translators. When I visit him, I quiz him, and he usually knows the answers. “How many generations between Abraham and Jesus Christ?” I asked him recently.
“Fourteen generations from Abraham to David, 14 generations to the exile to Babylon, and 14 generations to the birth of Christ,” he replied.
This last Sabbath, he gave a brief testimony of thanks that God had sent us to this area to teach people about Him. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t know,” he concluded. He is an eager missionary, too. He takes his little solar-powered audio player with him wherever he goes. One day I was teaching at the clinic, and I heard Mentapang’s audio player reading out scripture. Then I heard him pause the audio and begin sharing from his heart with an elderly gentleman who was sitting with him! I was so tickled with his enthusiasm.
Just behind Mentapang’s house is Sublitu and Lebin’s place. Sublitu and Lebin are baptized members, and Lebin and their two pre-teen girls faithfully attend church. Sublitu is a businessman, and work seems to be taking more and more of his attention. He spends a lot of time in the lowlands, and his wife and girls miss his spiritual leadership. I wonder what it will take to recapture his heart before it is too late.
Past Mumul’s place down the trail to the river is where Bubit and John live. Bubit, Jilin’s older sister, is the head teacher at our mission elementary school. John teaches history and several levels of Filipino language in the mission high school. Together, this newlywed couple are learning to be missionaries to Bubit’s people. John, a Filipino, is learning Palawano language and culture.
As I let my mind travel past Abew’s place and over the brow of the next hill, I think of Mislinda and her husband and three children and Mislinda’s parents-in-law, Parad and Dinsiya and their swarm of children. For a variety of reasons, these dear people may never attend our church, but I believe they will become Christ-followers. They enjoy the branch Sabbath School outreach when it is at their place, and Mislinda actively participates.
Further from our house, I think of another Adventist family, Agus and Mindan and their two children. Agus used to teach in the mission school, but now he is getting into business like his brother Sublitu. Mindan is the school cook. She happily gets up at 4 a.m. each morning to make sure the 70+ students have a warm breakfast at 6:30. She has been doing this for a number of years now, and she has proven herself quite dependable. This family struggles with consistency in their spiritual development, and Mindan has emotional challenges. I have faith that God knows how to wake this family up to the urgency of the times and the necessity of training their pre-teen children.
My mind wanders on past Agus’ place, around the school boundary and back down the hill towards our house. Rinal and Silin recently rebuilt a nice little house for themselves and their adopted three-year-old daughter. We are glad they are back in the mountains after living in the lowlands for close to three years. Rinal was my right-hand co-translator/editor before they left. I’m hoping he will rejoin our work soon. They seem to be growing as a couple and a family, and also in their spiritually sensitivity.
As I complete my mental tour of our nearest neighbors, I think of all the Palawanos scattered farther from our Kemantian home, and I look forward to the day when they will have the opportunity to embrace Christ.
As I tune out the night sounds about me, in my imagination I hear joyous songs of praise emanating from houses all up and down our valley as Palawano people worship their Creator and Redeemer. I pray that this will come to pass in my day.
