The Village Pastor

I had a bad week. We had our secondary student retreat. And it was great. For the students. But it was a slap in the face for me. SO much work went into planning and organizing it, and I was looking forward to spending time with my students outside the classroom. But I felt like retreat this year was 36 straight hours of discipline issues. There were times I didn't even get to eat meals because I was dealing with student behavior. For 36 straight hours, I felt devalued, disrespected, and like my presence at this school is unessential. I stayed awake in bed last night wondering to myself if this will be my last term here. I was exhausted. I was worn out. I was emotional.

Some people from my church are planning on doing a service day in early September in a small mountain village about 1500 meters up from where we are. Today we did a survey trip to meet with the village pastor and discuss some of our ideas with him.

I've been to a lot of villages, several of them mountain villages. The people up there are... different. They look almost aboriginal, with very dark skin, flat noses, wide set eyes, and prominent lower jaws. They are almost all farmers, living in near poverty. While they may claim one religion or another, animism also tends to hold a prominent position in just about every mountain village I've encountered. And they are, for the most part, uneducated. Girls often drop out of school and marry after completing the 6th grade. It's not that there is no desire for education. It's that there are no schools.

But even with knowing what I know, I wasn't prepared for today.

I wasn't ready for them to tell us that there are no teenagers there. Not a single one. Because none of them want to live the lives their parents have. They move to town either to work or to try to scrape together enough money to go to middle school or high school.

I wasn't ready for them to reveal that every man in that village cheats on his wife. It's just the way things work there.

I wasn't ready for them to tell us that every single person in that village is living in debt. Because when their crop fails, they take out a loan to live on. But then they take out another loan to pay off the first one. Then another to pay off the second one. And it turns into a vicious cycle with growing interest rates that nobody knows how to break free from.

I wasn't ready to see how defeated Pastor Ishak was. He has given so much of himself to that village. He knows he is dying. And he fears that the church there will die with him.

I wasn't ready for the tears streaming down his wife's face as she shared with us how she faithfully prays and fasts for the people of that village, but how in 35 years, she's seen no growth.

Pak Ishak and his wife have been working, giving, and serving in that village for 35 YEARS. When we asked them to tell us something positive about the village, both of them just looked at their laps silently.

But they remain faithful to God and his plan, because they believe that they have been called there for a reason and that God will be faithful to carry that to completion.

So today was my second slap in the face this week. Because if Pastor Ishak can be faithful through those circumstances for 35 years, who am I to throw in the towel after 36 difficult hours?