On Sunday morning, I headed to Pelima with Jeanne to meet with our Bible-study group there. Over the last couple of weeks, the group had diminished from more than 20 adults to about five. Cesar, their lay pastor, had moved away, and I had taken over.

When we got to the house where we meet, Baké’s brother was there to tell me that she was sick. Baké, an older lady, is usually a faithful attendee.

After the meeting, I went to Baké’s small, round hut. I found her lying on her dirt floor on a dirty mat with a dirty cloth bunched up under her head for a pillow. Her niece, Suzanne, was there and told me that Baké had a stomach ache and couldn’t eat.

Not knowing what her ailment was, I decided to treat her with charcoal. I pulled some coals out of the fire and put them in a mortar. Suzanne and I pounded them until they were more or less powder. Suzanne found a sifter, and we used it to remove the bigger hard-to-swallow chunks. I mixed the powder with some water and gave it to Baké to drink. We prayed together, and then I left.
The next week, I found Baké still sick and much thinner (she had already been thin). Suzanne wasn’t there, and Baké’s brother was too drunk to interpret, so I attempted to talk with her directly. She understood Ditammari even though she was from another tribe. She told me her stomach didn’t hurt anymore, but her body felt bad, and she couldn’t hear and had a hard time talking. I couldn’t do much for her. She was too weak to ride on my motorcycle with me to the hospital. I prayed with her again before heading home.

Since Baké was Colette’s aunt and helped raise her, I contacted Colette and her husband, Bony, and told them about her situation. They agreed to drive out to pick her up in a truck. I went back to her house on my motorcycle to help. It turned out that Colette’s and Bony’s vehicle got stranded with a flat tire, so I was the only one who showed up.

Baké looked close to death. Her family was there, so I suggested they take her to the hospital. They replied that they didn’t have the money. What they really meant was they figured Baké would die, and they didn’t want to waste any money on her. I said I would pay for her care if they let me take her. They agreed.

I offered to pray for Baké, but first I asked the family to remove the spirit charm I had seen on my way in—an egg on a stick in the front door. A lady took the charm and threw it across the courtyard. I prayed, and we made the decision to come back on Monday morning to pick Baké up in my truck. Sundays are more or less useless at the hospital.

On the way home, I passed Colette and Bony—they had finally gotten their tire fixed. They arrived at Baké’s house soon after I left. Baké’s hopefulness nearly brought Colette to tears as she said, “They told me they will take me to the hospital tomorrow.”

The next day when we arrived with the truck, Baké told Colette that if we hadn’t come that day, she certainly would have died. We got her to the hospital, and they did a blood test. It came back positive for typhoid fever and Malaria. She also had an ear infection. They put her on I.V. medication. Over the next three days, I made food and took it to the hospital three times a day for Baké and her attending family members. On Friday morning, I picked them up from the hospital and took them to my house where they stayed until Sunday.

I tempted Baké with all kinds of yummy food so she would eat. By Sunday, she was doing much better and almost able to walk again. She was eager to go home, so I bought the follow-up medications for her and took her back to Pelima. As we drove into the village, an old man peered grimly at the truck. When he saw Baké sitting up in her seat, a shocked look came over his face. He smiled a big smile and clapped his hands. Clearly, he had expected I was bringing back her corpse.

Baké rested a bit at her house, but then she insisted on coming to the Bible-study meeting. She wanted to walk with me, and I made sure she didn’t fall. Arriving at the meeting, we found 21 adults and about 40 children present. Word about Baké’s amazing recovery had gotten out. During the week after she got home, the news made it all the way to the village where Colette and Bony live, more than 60 miles away. The name of God’s church has found favor in the hearts of the Ottammari people. Someone who didn’t know that Baké was Colette’s aunt asked Colette if she belonged to the church that takes such good care of its people.

I praise God. When I decided to take Baké to the hospital, I wasn’t thinking about witnessing. I just knew I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I stood by and let her die. Satan wanted to destroy her, but God brought her back to health and a new understanding that He really is alive and takes care of His own.

Please pray for the group in Pelima. Pray that God will give me wisdom to guide them. He has been using this incident and others to connect me more and more closely to these people. 

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