Scorching heat will drive one to do what he wouldn't normally do. Today was one of those days. Today was HOT! Unusually hot. Sweat was escaping every pore in my body like a full-on jailbreak. I wasn't even working, nor was I standing; I was sitting. The very act of sitting was producing sweat. Not only was I sweating in an ungodly heat, but my sundry mosquito bites from the previous night seemed to increasingly itch. However, the innumerable flies exceeded all the other misfortunes! Each one was indecisive where to land and rest; they were buzzing continually. No matter how much I swished them away, their boldness in landing on me finally surpassed my patience! I bolted up with determination to change my present circumstances.
I exited the fly-infested church building and began to lurk across the wheat field questioning whether I was in the Sahara. The heat threatened to suck me dry. I thought I would either die of dehydration or melt into the sun-baked soil, but by God's grace I made it across the 10 meter stretch of land to the neighbors water source! I briefly looked around and saw no movement, so I stripped down and began to bath under the cool water. As I lathered my body with soap, I noticed a small girl appear from thin air standing a few meters from me. Slightly embarrassed for bathing in their water source, I turned around and rinsed. There-afterwards, I looked back to see she had grabbed a seat and continued watching me! I wasn't sure what to think. Was it my white skin that appeared attractive? Was it the fact that a foreigner was bathing in her family's water source? Or was it simply because she had absolutely nothing better to do?
I quickly finished my washing. I reached for my towel but realized I didn't need it. The sun had already dried my skin within seconds and I decided to keep my hair wet as long as possible. Shortly there-afterwards, the mother of the household motioned me to come and sit. What to do? With nothing better to do, I walked into a mystery. Her three older daughters were sorting through wheat in the shade behind their house. I managed a smile and a quick Namaste and began to leave when the mother urged me to sit. She wouldn't let me leave without receiving their hospitality. Not wanting to show any disrespect, I took my seat overlooking her three daughters tossing wheat into the air. Complete silence. I had already said my only Nepali when I greeted myself and they had never even heard English let alone speak it. I waited. For what? I knew not.
For some reason unbeknownst to me, cutting one apple into slices takes an eternity. I finally received the family's hospitality with eight small slices of brown mushy apple. No crispy sweet apples taken out of a picnic cooler here. I munched once and swallowed quickly with each slice. Before I could even utter a sound, the mother threw several more slices on my plate. She proceeded to hand her three older daughters a few slices. They stopped threshing the wheat and began munching. So there we were, munching mushy apples all sitting in complete silence looking at each other. An eternity passed in that instance! I finished my plate, expressed gratitude for their hospitality and "company", and stood up turning to leave.
The mother pulls me back to my seat motioning to stay. Yet again, her reasoning was unbeknownst to me. Silently eating warm apples in the heat of the day with a mother and all her daughters isn't exactly my definition of a splendid day. She runs inside and comes back with some unleavened bread. I motion a "no thank you" as kindly and harshly as I know how. She runs in again and returns with some rice. I wave a quick "no." She then babbled something to her daughters and before I know it, one of them is climbing up the nearby tree to cut lose a papaya! I really didn't want to eat one of their very few papayas; nor did I want to eat through the whole thing in complete silence.
I say my thank you's, run over to the water, duck my head under, and quickly walk back to the church building. I lay down not really knowing what just happened. Flies begin to swarm me once again. I begin to imagine what it would look like if indeed I began to melt from extreme heat and all the flies just sucked up my juices until I was no more. The room suddenly darkens. Is this death? I look to see a woman's figure blocking the light in the only doorway. She's carrying something. She babbles something, and before I know it, she is presenting a plate of sliced papaya into my hands. She smiles, babbles some more, and leaves chuckling underneath her breath. I take a bite expecting something juicy, cool, and refreshing but instead bite into a sun-baked flavorless rubber! I look at the full plate of papaya covered in a swarm of black flies.
Disappointed and bewildered at my present circumstances, I question reality and and even reasoning for being in Nepal. I occupied the next 4 hours watching the second hand tick itself around the clock hanging crooked on the wall. God responded to my questioning and reasoning by reminding me of my priestly calling to the nations. He led me to the harsh sub-zero countryside of Mongolia. I followed. He led me to the scorching heat of jungles in Nepal. I followed. Amidst Gobi sand/snow blizzards or fly-covered papaya rubber, His Grace is sufficient. I live to see another day. I live to be His hands and feet wherever His perfect leadership guides me. I live to be His mouthpiece and teach whatever Truth he urges me to speak. It is HIS words I speak, HIS strength I draw from, HIS passion I carry, HIS presence I release, and HIS JOY that motivates me for missions! It is no longer I who live, but Christ in me... Unto the nations, unto the ends of the earth, unto the end of time, He is mine, and I am His! Hallelujah for abundant Life!
I exited the fly-infested church building and began to lurk across the wheat field questioning whether I was in the Sahara. The heat threatened to suck me dry. I thought I would either die of dehydration or melt into the sun-baked soil, but by God's grace I made it across the 10 meter stretch of land to the neighbors water source! I briefly looked around and saw no movement, so I stripped down and began to bath under the cool water. As I lathered my body with soap, I noticed a small girl appear from thin air standing a few meters from me. Slightly embarrassed for bathing in their water source, I turned around and rinsed. There-afterwards, I looked back to see she had grabbed a seat and continued watching me! I wasn't sure what to think. Was it my white skin that appeared attractive? Was it the fact that a foreigner was bathing in her family's water source? Or was it simply because she had absolutely nothing better to do?
I quickly finished my washing. I reached for my towel but realized I didn't need it. The sun had already dried my skin within seconds and I decided to keep my hair wet as long as possible. Shortly there-afterwards, the mother of the household motioned me to come and sit. What to do? With nothing better to do, I walked into a mystery. Her three older daughters were sorting through wheat in the shade behind their house. I managed a smile and a quick Namaste and began to leave when the mother urged me to sit. She wouldn't let me leave without receiving their hospitality. Not wanting to show any disrespect, I took my seat overlooking her three daughters tossing wheat into the air. Complete silence. I had already said my only Nepali when I greeted myself and they had never even heard English let alone speak it. I waited. For what? I knew not.
For some reason unbeknownst to me, cutting one apple into slices takes an eternity. I finally received the family's hospitality with eight small slices of brown mushy apple. No crispy sweet apples taken out of a picnic cooler here. I munched once and swallowed quickly with each slice. Before I could even utter a sound, the mother threw several more slices on my plate. She proceeded to hand her three older daughters a few slices. They stopped threshing the wheat and began munching. So there we were, munching mushy apples all sitting in complete silence looking at each other. An eternity passed in that instance! I finished my plate, expressed gratitude for their hospitality and "company", and stood up turning to leave.
The mother pulls me back to my seat motioning to stay. Yet again, her reasoning was unbeknownst to me. Silently eating warm apples in the heat of the day with a mother and all her daughters isn't exactly my definition of a splendid day. She runs inside and comes back with some unleavened bread. I motion a "no thank you" as kindly and harshly as I know how. She runs in again and returns with some rice. I wave a quick "no." She then babbled something to her daughters and before I know it, one of them is climbing up the nearby tree to cut lose a papaya! I really didn't want to eat one of their very few papayas; nor did I want to eat through the whole thing in complete silence.
I say my thank you's, run over to the water, duck my head under, and quickly walk back to the church building. I lay down not really knowing what just happened. Flies begin to swarm me once again. I begin to imagine what it would look like if indeed I began to melt from extreme heat and all the flies just sucked up my juices until I was no more. The room suddenly darkens. Is this death? I look to see a woman's figure blocking the light in the only doorway. She's carrying something. She babbles something, and before I know it, she is presenting a plate of sliced papaya into my hands. She smiles, babbles some more, and leaves chuckling underneath her breath. I take a bite expecting something juicy, cool, and refreshing but instead bite into a sun-baked flavorless rubber! I look at the full plate of papaya covered in a swarm of black flies.
Disappointed and bewildered at my present circumstances, I question reality and and even reasoning for being in Nepal. I occupied the next 4 hours watching the second hand tick itself around the clock hanging crooked on the wall. God responded to my questioning and reasoning by reminding me of my priestly calling to the nations. He led me to the harsh sub-zero countryside of Mongolia. I followed. He led me to the scorching heat of jungles in Nepal. I followed. Amidst Gobi sand/snow blizzards or fly-covered papaya rubber, His Grace is sufficient. I live to see another day. I live to be His hands and feet wherever His perfect leadership guides me. I live to be His mouthpiece and teach whatever Truth he urges me to speak. It is HIS words I speak, HIS strength I draw from, HIS passion I carry, HIS presence I release, and HIS JOY that motivates me for missions! It is no longer I who live, but Christ in me... Unto the nations, unto the ends of the earth, unto the end of time, He is mine, and I am His! Hallelujah for abundant Life!
Passionate about Bringing Joy to the Heart of God with the Discipleship & Transformation of Whole Nations,
Zach Hooley
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