“I’m anxious. My joints ache, and I think I might die!” the chief confided to me.

A few days earlier, El, the chief of Levea Tome, our new village, had showed me the results from his blood test—positive for hepatitis B. He was having pain in his liver area. He couldn’t eat much, and his urine was red. Now he was wondering whether he would pull through.

We had already started him on charcoal three times a day. We’d instructed him to drink lots of water and eat mainly fruit—no meat, tobacco or alcohol. “Let’s see how you feel in a few days,” I said. “If need be, we can take you to Phnom Penh for further treatment.” Before leaving, I assured him that we were praying to God for him.

“Thank you, teacher,” he said as we parted.

As I went out his front door and down the steep ladder and made my way home, I keenly felt my helplessness. I was not a doctor, nor was I rich enough to pay for the exorbitantly priced treatments and medicines often used to treat hepatitis B. “God,” I prayed, “please heal El so that Your name will be glorified. And please use our simple remedies.”

The following Sabbath afternoon, we set off to visit El to replenish his charcoal supply. As we passed our neighbor’s house, we noticed a small crowd was gathering. We waved hello, but we stopped when we saw the lady of the house. She looked very ill. “Are you sick?” we asked. Her family told us she’d been bitten by a poisonous snake the night before, and now her foot was swelling and very painful. We told her that we’d come back and treat her foot with charcoal after we’d visited the chief. We continued on our journey, stopping to visit friends on the way. As we approached El’s house, we called out the customary greeting at the bottom of the ladder and then climbed to the front door. At the top, we noticed a number of older men sitting in a circle wearing their prayer caps. “Oh, you’re having a meeting. We can come back later,” I said.

“No, come in. We have just finished,” El’s wife said. “We were asking God to help El.”

After a brief visit, we slipped out and walked back through the village along the bank of the Mekong River. As we passed a crude hovel, an elderly lady motioned us in for a visit. Squinting into the darkness, we saw two miserable-looking ladies sitting inside. Both tried to tell us about their sicknesses. One was pregnant. She was coughing and had a fever and a headache. The other one had had a very sore back for two weeks. Molly offered her a massage, and she gladly accepted. (Several days and massages later, we told her she should see a doctor because she was having a lot of pain in her left arm, shoulder and underarm. We feared there was more of a problem than tight muscles. After visiting the doctor, she found she had been experiencing angina from a clogged artery.)

While Molly massaged the lady’s back, I continued home, where I found a man waiting to ask our help for pain in his abdomen. I gave him charcoal and told him to mix it with water and drink it three times a day. I told him to come back if the pain continued. He never came back, and later a friend told me his pain had cleared up.
When Molly arrived home, it was nearing sunset. She quickly prepared a charcoal poultice for our neighbor’s snake-bitten foot and took it over to her.

Whew! What a day. Five sick people for the price of one! Since then, many more people have come to us for help with sicknesses. Few people here can afford to go to doctors. The villagers are very poor and have large families. One lady recently told me it takes all her income just to feed her 10 children.

The next Sabbath as we met with the small Khmae church group where we worship, we had special prayer for El. Each of us took turns praying for God to bring him healing. There was a lot of faith in that room. One of the ladies had been healed after her conversion when her pastor had prayed for her. The next day when we met with the pastor and his family, we had another season of earnest prayer for El. On our way back to our house, we stopped by El’s house to see how he was doing.

“Jia howy (I’m well already)! I can eat lots of food now—no problem,” El reported excitedly.

“Thank You God!” I exclaimed. We rejoiced with El, but we hoped his improvement wasn’t just a temporary result of the anti-acid medicine he’d taken.

As the days went by, we heard reports from other people about the chief. “El is all better. He is in the next village celebrating and eating lots of food.”

About a week later, El came to visit us. His face was lighted with a big smile, and he looked healthy. He was extremely grateful for the help we had given him. He assured us that he would guard and protect us and help us if we ever had any problems. “My heart is happy!” he exclaimed. Again, we rejoiced with him.

Despite our inexperience and humble means, God has blessed in a miraculous way. Since we moved here to Levea Tome, God has opened our eyes to many opportunities for ministry among the Cham. We have discovered that simple health ministry is opening up doors to people’s hearts like nothing else.

A few days ago, the chief of a large Cham village about four kilometers up the road dropped by to say hello. As we sat and talked, he reminded us that we had inquired at his village before meeting the Chief El of Levea Tome. He wondered why we hadn’t moved to his village instead. He spoke warmly of other Christians who had previously worked in his village teaching English. “If we were able to find someone to help your village,” I asked, “would you welcome them?” Eagerly, he said he would.

We feel that God is opening doors for a larger work among the Cham. Imagine what would happen if another family or two would come and join us in ministering in practical ways to these dear people. Imagine the hearts that would soon open to the story of the Great Healer. Maybe God is calling your family. Won’t you prayerfully consider being a part of this mission?

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