Sometimes I wonder about the incredible stories Gogodala people tell me. Are they making them up? Are they so superstitious that they attribute supernatural significance to every twig snap? We recently invited villagers to gather around our new house for a simple prayer of dedication. But the comments I heard afterwards convinced me that this was no ordinary event.

Ti ti ti tew! The call of an eagle woke me in the faint predawn light. Though I didn’t tell anyone at the time, I rather dreaded this day and wanted to get it over with. There was so much to do to get ready. I should have been anticipating the best since we had built this house for God’s glory and had seen so many miracles during its construction. There was no doubt in my mind that God had a purpose for this house and for us here in Kewa.

Maybe my uneasiness about the house dedication started a while back. Several years ago while I was in the neighboring village of Kotale, I brought up the idea of having a dedication and feast when our house in Kewa was completed. The Kotale people said, “We will have the feast in Kotale since the trees came from Kotale’s forests and the laborers and helpers also came from Kotale.” I didn’t argue with them but prayed silently that we would find a way to include the people of both Kotale and Kewa in the event. The Kewa villagers were our new neighbors, and we wanted this to be a gesture of friendship. But if we held the feast in Kewa, our Kotale friends would take offense. And having the feast on our new property didn’t seem likely at the time. The land around our house was covered thickly with 10-foot-tall elephant grass, not very conducive to picnicking. But that was many months ago. Now, with the help of many people, the elephant grass has been replaced by beautiful green turf.

We had just returned from our semiannual trip to the city to get supplies. While there, we met up with our field director, Dale Goodson, who flew out with us to spend a week in the village. Making quick plans, we printed up a program and invitations to give to leaders in Kewa and Kotale inviting them and their villagers to our house dedication and feast. On Friday, just three days before the feast, Dale and I made the 15-minute boat ride up the Aramia River and into the tributary leading to Kotale to deliver the invitations. That week, Kotale had lost two of their villagers—an old man and a boy who died from illness.

Leaving the dinghy at the landing, we headed for the village center. Approaching the evangelical church grounds, we noticed a crowd of people milling about. They had just finished the old man’s burial service. The mood was reverent but not really somber. Two of our Adventist church members emerged from the crowd to greet us. They reported how excited they were that just that week the villagers had opened up like never before and wanted to hear the message of the Adventists. We passed our letter of invitation to them to give to the local evangelical church pastor, which included an open invitation to his parishioners to come to the house dedication on Monday. Dale and I then continued our walk to the other end of the village to deliver another invitation to the Adventist church elder there. On our return trip past the crowd, the evangelical pastor approached us with a smile on his face and shook our hands. “The whole village is talking about your house dedication and making plans to come!” he said.

While we were planning the dedication, Dale had mentioned that he once made a timeline for his people to help them visualize the history of the world. Then I remembered seeing a crude timeline someone had made from sticks. We combined our ideas and started cutting, drilling, and sanding. We ended up with a series of three sticks placed end-to-end for a total length of about 20 feet. This represented the 6,000 years of earth’s history (2,000 years per stick). Along each stick, a row of pegs marked the generations. Certain significant events and people of the Bible were marked with paper cutouts.

The program was scheduled for three in the afternoon, but villagers began showing up at noon. Our resourceful helpers had lashed together a presentation platform of bamboo cut from our yard. By three, the lawn was covered with people.

Just as we were about to start the program, a light rain began to fall. I looked to the southeast where the wind was coming from and saw darker rainclouds rolling in. Dale immediately sent a plea to heaven for help. Within a minute, the rain had stopped and didn’t return until after the last visitor had left. Praise the Lord!

With a borrowed PA system, we made ourselves heard to the more than 500 attendees. We involved our church elders and even the pastors from the other churches in the program. After the invocation, welcome and other preliminaries, Dale and I presented the timeline. I explained the first half and Dale the last half. The last peg held a picture of Jesus’ second coming. Taking that stick out of its socket, Dale said, “I don’t know where I should put this. I hope it will be here in our present time, but it could be out there a little ways. But this is the reason this house was built, so that we can put this peg representing Jesus’ coming closer to our time.” At this statement, the crowd burst into spontaneous applause.

Then it was time for the climax of the program and the part that will probably stand out most in people’s memories for as long as they live. They had never seen anything like it before, and neither had we. We led the people up the hill and invited them to hold hands and encircle our house while pastors and elders prayed at each corner. One prayed for God’s blessing on the land and the landowners who gave it to us. Another prayed for God’s blessing on the house and those who built it and donated trees. The third person prayed for AFM and that God’s glory would shine out from this place. The fourth prayed for God’s blessing on our family.

In the days immediately following the house dedication, comments filtered back to us. One man exclaimed, “We Gogodala have never seen this kind of thing before. This is the first time!” Some ladies said, “We were afraid to close our eyes during the prayer because we felt something was going to happen. We sensed God’s presence was there.” A neighbor said, “During the prayer, I didn’t close my eyes, and I saw God’s glory coming down on this land.”

What did the people really see? I don’t know. But there will come a day when “every eye shall see Him,” (Revelation 1:7), and that’s why our house is here, and that is why we are here.

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