At our Kamantian church, many members are conspicuously absent. Usually that is bad news, but we take it as a good sign. You see, more members are going to other places to teach God’s word and plant new churches. In fact, the demand for our lay missionaries is surpassing our ability to respond.

In February, because of our lay missionaries, we had the privilege of baptizing our first four converts from the village of Malis. More than a year ago, people from Malis made the five-hour hike to our church to request a teacher. They had heard about the good things happening in Kamantian, and they wanted the same for themselves. Malis villagers built a church there before any of them had even become believers. They studied and grew in faith. They became impressed with the Bible’s teachings, sensing they were truth.

They were also drawn by the fact that ours was a church of fellow Palawanos. Their teachers understood their issues and were committed to helping them. When Jun, one of the new converts, was asked why he wanted to join the church, he responded, “Although I am a Palawano, I grew up in the lowlands. My father was a pastor, and I attended a number of churches. But, until I came here, I never found a church that based its beliefs strictly on the Bible. Even more than that, I have seen a lot of folks come and evangelize and baptize (and take lots of pictures for publicity and fundraising). When they are done, they leave and never come back. It’s as if they just want to brag that they got another person for their church. But this church is different. These missionaries did not just come for a short time and then go home. They really care. It is as if they are Palawano. I know they are not here just to start a church or baptize some people. This is the kind of church I want to belong to; not one that just talks, but one that lives the life the Bible tells us to live.”

People often ask us, “Aren’t you just about done with that church-planting job over there? Isn’t it about time to phase out and come home?” While I do believe there is a time to phase out, the real sign that the work is done for me will be the Lord coming in the clouds. Then I will really go home!

If my goal was to finish and return to the States to live an easier life, what message would that send to my Palawano fellow believers whom I have taught that evangelism is a lifestyle, not an event? They are my brothers and sisters, my father and mother, my children. How can I leave when there is still so much work to be done? More and more requests keep pouring in from new territories. When Palawanos hear what is happening in our churches, they are eager to learn more.

The other day, I was in Bingbilang. Folks there asked, “When can we get baptized? We want to build a church here, too!” That is exciting news. Our lay missionaries have been studying with people in Bingbilang for more than a year now, and there didn’t seem to be much progress at first. But the villagers had been quietly, steadily growing in the truth. They knew our church wasn’t like the others that just want quick baptisms. But now they are eager to take their stand for Christ.

A couple months ago, a Palawano Adventist named Mandu showed up from far off Abo-Abo on the northern boundary of Palawano territory—a walking trip of weeks. To our complete surprise, he informed us that there was a Palawano Adventist church up in his area. A few years ago, a pastor from the States held an evangelistic series there, started a church and then left. Mandu had been hired as a lay pastor, but funds had run out. He pled with us to come and rescue the dying church. Though the church is close to a road and easily accessible, no lowland pastors would come and help. Mandu said we were his only hope.

I hiked back out of the mountains with Mandu. Our route was quite circuitous because I had received word that an eight-year-old girl in Yengyengen needed medical attention. Mandu and I scrambled through dense jungle and down steep slopes for several hours until we came to Yengyengen. I stopped at a house to see how a baby we had treated at the hospital a couple weeks earlier was doing. I found that the mother had disregarded our instructions, and the child had died a few days before. I was very upset, but Mandu and I hurried on to check on the girl.
Fifteen minutes later, we arrived at the girl’s house only to hear the sad news that the girl had died four hours earlier. There was nothing to be done. I prayed with the parents, and then, with a heavy heart, I continued on with Mandu.

The sun was low on the horizon when Mandu and I arrived in Bingbilang and climbed into our worn Toyota pick-up truck. Mandu said he understood why we might not be able to get to his area anytime soon. He said he had once known a pastor who would walk through the mountains to visit folks, but that was a long time ago. When we arrived in Brooke’s Point, I paid for Mandu’s bus fare back to the north, promising that someday, if we ever had the chance, we would come and visit his struggling congregation and see how we could help. That is still just a promise, but one I would dearly love to keep.

Kensuli, once notorious for its drinking, is now home to the largest of our schools. What a refreshing attitude the people of Kensuli have! When I get discouraged, a hike there always lifts my spirits. There are no baptized members there yet, but every Sabbath we have a church attendance of 30 to 60 people. A number of people are studying for baptism. We have a Filipino teacher family and a Palawano teacher stationed there.

We have a fledgling school in Anibung. We had not thought to have a school there, but Isik, one of our church members, lives there, and his wife’s family urged him to start a school. He asked us for help, and we were happy to provide him with guidance and materials. The school meets in a home, but the villagers are planning to build a school building. Leonda meets with Isik every week, mentoring him in classroom management and how to teach and run a school. Isik’s biggest challenge is that he has only a third-grade education, and he is hard pressed to stay ahead of his pupils. We would send a more qualified teacher, but we do not have one to spare. But there could be no more dedicated and enthusiastic teacher than Isik. Since we can supply only the school’s necessities, he happily works for free.
Work is beginning to the north in Emrang. We have started a small school and clinic there. I walked there a couple months ago and found another group of people who wanted us to come and teach them. So we sent over one of our prized nurses to run a small clinic there and teach kindergarten and literacy.

And then there is Tigeplaan far beyond the Mekegwa` River. None of us have ever been there, but we know there are people there who want us to come. I have been told that it is possible to walk there in one very long day. Someday, Lord willing, I will go there. There are so many places like this that we would love to visit and support on a regular basis, but all the hiking required makes it impossible for us to go.
Just the other day, a visitor named Junitu arrived from Meynit and spoke to Leonda. He hadn’t come for medicine or money or schools. He told her he had come to request that we visit his area “and teach us God’s words.” She assured him we were very interested in doing that, and we would bring his request to our pastoral team to see how we could fulfill it.

Wow! A request like that sure gets us all fired up. But we wonder: how can we respond to these calls from villages hours and hours away when we are already so swamped with ministry around Kamantian? Then God reminds us that this is His work and He will provide a way.

Junitu’s visit also may have marked the opening of another mission frontier. About a month ago, we received an indirect invitation to visit the Taw’t Duram, a reportedly fearsome Palawano sub-tribe that lives deep in the mountains. Stories abound of scientists and anthropologists trying to make contact with the Taw’t Duram only to be ambushed on their way in. The Palawanos are afraid of them and refuse even to set foot on their territory. We have wanted to visit the Taw’t Duram for a long time, but we have not had a formal invitation from the tribe or a trustworthy guide to take us there. But Junitu informed us that his deceased father was Taw’t Duram. He knows the dialect and has even visited the tribe! We are excited to see how the Lord will lead.

This is only a thumbnail sketch of the opportunities here. There are many more doors opening where our missing church members—our lay missionaries—are visiting and teaching on a regular basis.

Has anybody ever told you that the work is finished and wondered why the Lord hasn’t come yet? Don’t believe them. The fields are truly white for the harvest, but where are the harvesters? Now is certainly not the time to fold up and go home. Now is the time to go forward!

• Twitter