A few weeks back we stayed with our friends on their small farm way out in the forest rural countryside of Montay, north Cotobato, and the heart of the Muslim region. Much transformation in this place – King Jesus is exalted here. We had all enjoyed a great day in the presence of the Lord, teaching was easy and revelation seemed to flow like a clear stream among the young team.
But, come the pitch black night, unpolluted from street lights or populated by moon and stars sleep was far from my eyes as my ears could not escape the nearby haunting and agonized screams of some deeply traumatised woman out there somewhere in the dark forest. Relentlessly, till almost sunrise this poor woman tortured by I don’t know what screamed continually for help?
Disturbingly, it was reminiscent of my own dear mothers night time screams during the days of my father’s violent drunkenness. She would scream and scream but no one would come it seemed except more demons.
It was an incriminating dilemma for me lying there in a strange place in the dark of night as I had vowed to myself many times as a child that if I ever heard someone screaming like my mom used to, then I would find that distressed soul and help them. But, now, inactive, accused by my failure to live up to my vow I could only pray that God would send His angels. If ever it sounded like a hero was needed it was in the agony that I was listening to now but to all intents and purposes I was “Not Available”. Even if I ventured out into that black forest where would I go? What would I do when I got there? Remembering my own childhood horrors that sincere neighbours or the arrival of police usually made matters much worse. So I prayed and prayed more.
At 5am the small group gathered in the beautiful garden of the farm for early Morning Prayer and worship. Strangely in a part of the garden that is now the final resting place of four of the family of the original owners. They were killed by a road accident in Dubai on the way to the airport for returning home to the Philippines. They never made it home alive but now interred there in that most beautiful of locations for reflection.
After our devotional time I asked Karen our host, if she heard the screaming and who it could be and where? Straightaway, with pointing, said, I didn’t hear it but without doubt George it would have come from that shack over there. Peering through the multiple leaf line branches between us and the direction Karen pointed I could just make out a local type hut only around 70m or so away. She told us of a family history of drunkenness and violence from both father and mid thirties son towards their respective wives, also relaying some past horrifying incidents involving fleeing children and flaying machetes.
Karen also told that the son’s wife had suffered a debilitating stroke a few months back and was now partially paralyzed down her right side and unable to walk properly.
Ah! Perhaps not too late to partially fulfil my childhood oath after all. This was the opening I needed as only a few days previous we had received a text regarding an elderly man we prayed for who was showing all the signs of being healed from his a crippling stroke. We are blessed in that we see many paralysed stroke victims healed some instantly, some progressively?
Further, just that week we video interviewed a man here that suffered severe paralysis from a stroke and could not stand or so much as hold a pen or. However, this man demonstrated and explained that he was 90% recovered by his faith in the Lord and orally drinking virgin coconut oil every day and experiencing improvement within the first week. We will publish that on our coconut kingdom website soon www.coconut-kingdom.com should be online in March 2013. But, back to the story and I now I felt I had a credible reason to visit this sin ravaged family.
Karen volunteered to introduce me to her troubled neighbours as we made the short walk down the track towards their place. What I saw as we closed was a shock to the senses. So far the worst case of abject poverty I’ve witnessed here in the Philippines. The entire area around their badly dilapidated window and door less hut was a stinking, festering muddy bog. Loose pigs and frequently defecating dogs ran wild and sounded wild. Even the atmosphere felt polluted. An unnatural silence fell over the area. We felt that many demons watched our approach and many angels did too.
We saw the children just standing there in the mud. Their clothes or lack therefore matched blended with their surrondings; they appeared traumatized by the night’s events, fraught and unusual for Filipino children they would not venture near. The mother was stood close by leaning on a bamboo rail probably tied there between two trees for her support. She never raised her eyes to look at us as we called out our greeting. The husband appeared from around the other side of the hut to investigate the strange voices.
He seemed broken, soul weary, mid late thirties, dirty shorts and red vest that looked more holes than vest. Karen is an amazing fast and very versatile expert in social situations; she smilingly introduced me as a “Medical missionary” who had stroke recovery information. Quite funny to hear that title and praise to God as even that morning already a doctor was texting me for information about how to treat aids and cancers with the revelations the Lord has given us regarding these so called “un-curable deceases”.
I smiled gently and introduced myself and began speaking briefly regarding stroke cause & cure. During which time the dear women still could not raise her gaze to look at us, obviously troubled and ashamed. I began to explain why we were missionaries and how I personally became a Christian relaying my own traumatized and dysfunctional childhood. The man stared and listened intently I thought I could discern a glimmer of hope in his dim and tired eyes. The woman appeared quite surprised at the direction of the conversation and also gave small evidences of listening eagerly with occasionally sharp nod of the head as they identified with the universal agony alcohol brings. The lostness, the hopelessness, the helplessness to both drunkard and family.
I never felt to press them to become Christians there and then as it was a decision not
to be made on the spur of the moment just because they are vulnerable and the Americano (that’s how they reference westerners here) has showed up. But we did make clear that repentance towards God, faith in the Lord Jesus and baptism in water was essential if they wanted to be saved from this destructive life cycle.
We confirmed Gods love and His willingness to forgive and help if they were willing to repent. Then we asked permission to pray for the woman’s health. They agreed but still she would not look at us. As we prayed I took and lifted her limp hand holding it as we were shaking hands. I commanded strength to back into it in the name of Jesus, also rebuking the enemy’s power off her life. I asked her quite directly to grip my hand tight as I gave her a small squeeze, her hold was very weak, in fact It was me doing all the holding. Then suddenly, as if an electrical current had jerked through her arm, she squeezed my hand hard, she was shocked, then almost automatically involuntary as if the current had been switched on again she gripped my hand even tighter. Now she is staring at with wide shocked eyes and began gibbering something excitedly to Karen in her own language all the while holding my hand in a firm grasp.
Karen, equally excited quickly explained “George George she is telling me that for the first time strength has just returned to her arm & hand”. The husband equally surprised began to question his wife. She spoke to him with the same high pitched energy levels as she spoke to Karen. His eyes got wide as they bantered back and forth still my hand is in her wringer like grip as she practises the full range of squeezing ability with her new found power.
Prising my hand loose both Karen explained we would know pray for her legs so she could walk. I laid hands on the ankles and Karen on the knees. Again, rebuking the work of Satan and commanding strength to return in Jesus name. I stood up, took her hands and asked her to walk with me a few steps, but she had gone in to miracle overload and experienced faith shut off. Have seen that before when people experience a partial miracle because they didn’t have full miracle faith. And, in this case though God was willing and healing power was available in Jesus name her faith was not yet ready for her to walk as well. She explained to Karen that she thought she was going to fall and needed to hold the bamboo rail again.
Which she could now do with both hands and demonstrated such quite well.
Karen asked if it would be okay to come back sometime and hold short bible studies with them. They instantly both agreed, nodding enthusiastically as they did so.
Later that day, after returning from a village outreach, we sat on with Karen & family on their porch where we could hear the sound of someone in the midst of that silent forest brushing. Karen looking around to detect the direction of what was an unfamiliar sound, then noted with surprise that the sweeping noise was coming from the dirty house we had visited.
For the first time in two years she was aware of he was sweeping his yard clean! I could see him through the trees. After sweeping, he proceeded around the house pick up years of worth of their discarded garbage. The wife that screamed all night used a plastic chair as a walking aid and moved and sat close by him everywhere he cleaned.
We were overjoyed at the Lord’s goodness, believing for the seeds sown to become full fruit for the Lord.
Today, we are a 3 hour drive away from Karen’s place, just a couple of hours ago she texted us to say that Merci, the stroke woman we prayed with, had just walked the 70m to Karen’s gate unaided with her husband beside her. She said that later she will walk the 400m to the road.
Isn’t Jesus so good, who else but Jesus could have walked in to the dark and shattered lives and shown kindness and power to make this woman whole after a night of unprecedented terror? I’m so thankful we frequently get to witness His compassion and power for the lost and the sick? He still reaches His nail pierced hand into the darkness for us. Thanks to God for His excellent greatness.
The Text from Karen
D Lord s beautiful beyond description Merci has now walked up to our gate from their house, Her husband said it was d 1st time since her stroke and she said she will walk up to the highway. hallelujah! to Him b all glory n honor. Later heard that Merci is now walking perfectly everywhere
Regards
George Oates
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