Mark giving out degrees at the Graduation Ceremony

It was June of 1992 and we were wrapping up our second term in Kenya where Mark was serving as the principal of East Africa School of Theology in Nairobi and I had been teaching the Marriage and Family course.  We were  packed and ready to return to the States for furlough when one of our students invited us to minister in his church, which was about a three-hour drive to a little village situated on the outskirts of Nyahururu, a hilly, rural town in Kikuyu country located on the north-western side of the Aberdare Mountain Range.

When we arrived, we were greeted by a small congregation which gathered in a simple one-story rectangular church made of wooden slats and a mabati (tin) roof. It had about two windows that were opened to allow for some fresh air to fill the dusty room where the floor was covered with saw dust that filled the air, especially when the people danced during worship.  They were crammed into the small sanctuary like sardines and the children either sat on the floor in the front or played in the yard outside of the church.  The pews were tree stumps sunken into the earthen floor with boards attached forming narrow benches. They were so close together that the people’s knees were like seatbacks for the people in the rows in front of them.

Leading the congregation in worship to the beat of the drum

The worship service filled the sanctuary with loud singing in a pentatonic style of African melody that tells a story.  The stories are many stanzas long because they tell of battles with evil spirits and the Devil, God’s miraculous victories and deliverance, and always end with the believer’s final destination in glory.  The people also love to act out their songs with hand and body motions which enhance their joy in telling the story.  In unison they dance to the beat of their instruments comprised of handmade cymbals made from pop bottle caps and attached to a metal ring played with a stick of wood or metal and drums made from cow hide that they either beat with their hand or a stick.  Even though we couldn’t understand their language, we could feel the presence of God in the midst of their dancing and worship.

Judy singing a special song before Mark’ sermon

Before the service began, the student just happened to mention something he had neglected to tell us beforehand.  The village where the church was located had been hit with a cholera epidemic and many people were deathly sick and some had even died.  If we had known this beforehand, we would probably have declined the invitation. However, the service began and everything was progressing as usual—introductions, testimonials, worship that shook the rafters, I sang a special song accompanied by my cassette tape, and then it was Mark’s time to preach.

A few minutes into the sermon, Mark noticed an elderly woman on the second row starting to weave and then suddenly collapse on the floor.  The people closest to her huddled around her and the service came to a halt.  All of a sudden, I saw several men hoist the woman up over their heads to carry her out of the sanctuary.  Those who were close enough were laying hands on her and the others were reaching out and praying for her.  Mark also laid hands on her and the pastor asked him to lead the congregation in a prayer. The Kikuyu prayers were fervent and loud and shook the building.  After the prayer, she was carried out of the sanctuary.  The pastor encouraged the people to settle back down in their seats and told Mark to resume his preaching.  It was as if nothing out of the ordinary had just taken place.

We didn’t know what happened to her until the service was over. A man who had been in the service spoke to us afterwards and told us that he was a nurse and worked at the local medical clinic in the village.  He said the woman had cholera and told Mark he had not been able to find a pulse when they carried her out.  However, when the service ended and everyone filed out of the church we found the woman sitting on the ground under a tree drinking tea.  The people began praising God for a miracle.  For precautionary measures, the nurse announced that everyone who had come in contact with the woman should take a pill that would protect them from cholera.  Even though Mark had come in direct contact with her, we decided we would trust God to protect us.  To this day, we believe that God kept His hand on us and we thank Him for the opportunity to witness His miraculous healing power.