(Written by Jonathan Kopf, used by permission)

The gentle calling of a night bird and the stillness of the late night air was shattered by the terrified yelling of a tribal man. In panic he was yelling at the top of his lungs, only a hundred yards from our window. Shocked from our sleep, Susan and I froze in our bed, dreading the thought that another one of our village friends had died, or that a serious fight was breaking out, or that one of the village women was having serious complications in child birth.

Again the heart stopping cries of the terrified man came through our window like a sharp knife stabbing through the night air. I jumped to the window and pressed my face against the screen, straining to catch a few words, hoping against hope that somehow his yells were not indicating a new tragedy in our tribal village. I could not hear the man clearly, but could catch a few of his cries. “Go!” he was yelling. “Why are you here?” he continued. “Are you trying to eat us? Have you come for a payment? Get out of here!” he was yelling in a shrill voice.

What could these words mean? I could make out enough of his yells and it left us in the dark, matching the very unfriendly blackness of the jungle night. What could possibly be going on? I couldn’t make out any more words, and then the yelling stopped and silence loomed like the stillness of the heavy wet fog rolling up our mountain side.

As I waited in silence, I decided that I had better go find out what was causing such panic. I stepped out of our cozy house into the pitch blackness armed only with a small flashlight and a prayer asking the Lord for wisdom, guidance and protection. The tall wet grass and the chill in the air shocked my senses, reminding me that this is not what I wanted to do at 2:30 in the morning. “Father God, please help us to be able to make some true and lasting difference in the lives of these village people. Please show them their need for you in there lives”.

I arrived in front of the thatch roofed house only to find that the man who had been yelling had disappeared into the darkness. I was told that he had taken the trail down toward the outer edge of our village. I headed in that direction, again rubbing the sleep from my eyes and fighting the urge to return back to my comfortable bed.

Passing a few more thatched houses, I smelled the smoke of fires that had died down to coals mixed with cold wetness of the fog. I finally arrived at the axe hewn plank house that had been built by our half blind friend named Kelepi. Inside I could hear the apprehensive voices of several of our tribal friends engaged in intense conversation. I listened outside to hear the topic of conversation and then entered into the smoke filled house.

The man that had been yelling and a few other men were anxiously asking very pointed and accusing questions to a small and very frightened young girl. They were saying “Is it you that was outside our house just now in an attempt to kill us? Was it you or someone else, tell us now”. They continued “We told you before not to kill us. What is going on? Do we owe you something so that you will leave us alone?” The terrified girl sitting on the woven bamboo floor in the corner was barely able to respond as they continued on with their questioning. Eventually the accusers were finished with their questions and everyone returned to their houses and went back to sleep.

That night, and later on into the next day, there was a pit in my stomach and a knot in my throat that would not go away as the meaning of all of this was sinking in. These men had heard a bird calling in the middle of the night right outside of their house and it had terrified them. They had assumed, as they had been taught by their ancestors, that the calls of this certain bird were not actually from a bird, but were from the supposed evil witch spirit of this young girl named Fainyam. When they heard the whistling of the bird, they were convinced that the spirit of this girl was coming to their house to ‘eat’ them, causing them to die in the night. They had been so terrified that they had been yelling out into the night for the witch spirit to leave. Then they had gotten the courage to go to the house where the supposed witch girl was sleeping, to confront her for her evil spirit that was roaming the village.

This story is not finished just like the many serious discussions that have continued since that evening. Many of our village friends truly believe that this girl’s spirit has the power to kill people at night and some of the men have proposed that they kill the girl in order to get rid of her witch spirit as the ancestors have done since the beginning of Hewa time.

Please pray like never before, that as we are teaching the message of the Bible for the first time in our Hewa village, that it would penetrate the deep convictions and beliefs of our Hewa friends. Pray that these people would realize the hollowness of the beliefs that have been passed down from generation to generation, and that they would turn their focus from the destroyer to the One that gives true and eternal life. Pray that the terror of the spirits that controls their hearts would be replaced by a deep and loving relationship with the creator of all things.

Thanks so much for your love and prayers. We believe that as the saints pray, the Lord will soften the hearts of Hewa people so that they will turn to Him for salvation and eternal life.

Blessings!

Jonathan & Susan