The little pickle-jar lamp sputtered and spat in protest at the splashes of rain falling through the rotting grass roof. Still, it managed to throw a warm glow over my new friend Ernie and me as we reclined on the hard bamboo floor.

I was visiting the village of Balangabong to assess whether I should move there and to determine whether the village would accept me. Earlier that evening, the local Adventist church and I had met with the village leaders, and I had been formally invited me to move in. After the meeting, my new friends led me to an old, unused house and left me there for the night with a hand-made lamp and a couple of curious young people to watch over me. Ernie was foremost among the curious.

I lay down on the floor trying to dodge as many drops as I could. Ernie, however, paid no attention to the leaky roof and started firing questions at me like a Gatling gun.

From the very first, I saw in Ernie an unquenchable thirst for spiritual knowledge. Along with everyone else in the church, he initially seemed to suspect I was a heretic. Many of his questions seemed aimed at making sure I was an orthodox Adventist. I had to carefully talk my way around the quirky beliefs that circulate among Adventists here. I didn’t want to brand myself a heretic before I even got started. But beneath Ernie’s suspicious questions, I sensed his overpowering desire to know more about God.

Two months after that first damp night with Ernie, I moved into my house in Balangabong. All through the process of cobbling together my little hut, Ernie had stuck with me faithfully, showing me where to find building materials and teaching me the complex interrelationships of the families that made up the village. Now that I was moved in, Ernie felt it was his duty to be my constant companion and guide wherever I went. Every night, he would ply me with hundreds of Bible questions until, exhausted, I would collapse on the floor, and he would lie down next to me to wait for the next chance to interrogate me.

I confess that I am an introvert through and through. I was thrilled to have such an eager Bible student and faithful guide as I integrated into the village. But I was about to go stark-raving mad from a total lack of time by myself—just a few hours of restful solitude. I had to set some boundaries, or I wasn’t going to last for the long haul.

Of course I couldn’t tell Ernie outright to back off. In this culture, such things are communicated subtly. I had to carefully find ways to be alone at times until he finally understood the limits of my endurance. It didn’t take long for him to figure out what I needed, and I am glad to report that Ernie continues to be one of my most faithful friends.

Being such an earnest student of all things religious, it was only natural that Ernie should become one of the young leaders in the church. However, it soon became clear that we had some work to do in this area. I remember burying my head in my hands and groaning as, week after week, my friend would choose a new text and preach the exact same sermon. It didn’t matter what the text was about. He would find a way to bring it back to the one topic he felt comfortable expounding on.

Then there was the Friday night that the audience groaned and sighed as we stood for at least a quarter of an hour while Ernie closed the service by praying for every government official, church official, friend, family member and unreached person he could think of. His sincerity was above reproach, but our legs were about to give out after a long day in the fields.

Never have I had such a willing student, however. With almost zero reading comprehension, a history of abuse as a child and a wild adolescence, Ernie nonetheless had the one quality that made all the difference: he loved God with every fiber of his being. And because of that, he desperately wanted to learn to serve Him and His children.

Last Friday night, I attended my first church service since returning from furlough. Ernie was the speaker for the evening, and tears of joy came to my eyes as I listened to one of the most clear and succinct sermons I have ever heard. The topic was completely new, and the audience listened as I have rarely ever seen them listen before.

Sometimes I get discouraged. I have been working with the natives of this island, off and on, for more than 18 years now. Sometimes it seems like there is so little progress. And yet when I see Ernie and others like him, I am reassured. My being here is making a difference. Your support is changing lives. A foundation of leadership is being built that will grow and expand till all the world has been touched. Ernie is why I’m here.

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