Bony called me while we were on the road to the market. “Colette’s father di . . .” and he was cut off when we lost signal. I gave the phone to Hyacienth and asked him to call Bony back and see what he had said. When we finally got through, he told us that his wife Colette’s father had died. I told him I was in Boukoumbé but could meet him later and drive the family out to the village.

This village, Pelima, is where we hold meetings each week. Colette’s father had been one of our attendees. In fact, many years ago, he had been one of the first people to ask us to start a church there. He used to drink a lot and was often disruptive. He stopped drinking for a while and then fell off the wagon, but he would only drink after the meetings so he could be sober for them.

At about 5:30, we collected everyone and drove the 25 miles to Pelima. We dodged a rainstorm on the way, which was a blessing since we had 200 lbs. of corn and 50 lbs. of rice in the back of the truck, and it would not have been good to get them wet.

In Pelima, we found Colette’s family in the process of digging the grave. Certain family members came out to try to oblige her to do the traditional fetish funeral ceremonies. She refused. They had a brief discussion about whether to compel her by force, but they decided not to because of the people who had come with her. After insulting her and telling her she wouldn’t be allowed to see her father’s body, they saw all the food she had brought, and they let her and the rest of us go and see the body and greet the wives.

It was getting dark, and we prepared to stay the night in the village. Because of bandits on the roads, we don’t drive at night. We gathered the Christians who wanted to pray together, and we prayed for God’s protection for each one and that His hand would be over the village.

Colette’s family wrapped her father’s body and tied it in a mat. Then two men picked up the body to carry it to the grave, one at the head, and one at the feet. That’s when Satan started his evil work. The body began moving around the outside of the house, as if the dead man’s spirit were saying goodbye to his home and family. The men carrying the body could not control where it took them.

Rounding the corner of the house, the ghastly procession came face-to-face with us as we sat huddled in the back of the truck. It jerked to a stop. “Aha!” I said. “He sees a Power stronger than he.” The body twisted and turned and ducked there for a few moments and then finally continued past the truck, ducking as if bowing to a superior. Then it continued back into the house compound where it was to be buried.

When the family started the major ceremonies, Colette and her brother, Joel, refused to participate. I later learned that other Christians in the village had been watching to see what they would do. None of them had the courage to take a stand, but they later congratulated Colette and Joel for taking their stand.

Colette’s faith is strong, but it’s hard to know where her father stood with God. A few days before he died, he told Joel several times that he wanted to have a talk with him, and Joel thinks it was about spiritual things. I’m glad we can entrust him to our merciful Father who is able to save to the uttermost.

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