A broken shell; a melted heart
Walking down the dusty trail I studiously avoided meeting the eyes of the large angry woman pounding rice. As she thrust the log into the rice with a mighty blow, her strong shoulders glistened in the hot African sun. Her eyes smoldered with hostility.
“I be taxa minto?” she snarled. Where are you going?
I replied with a quavering voice, “M be taxamala.” I’m just taking a walk. I hurried on before she could say anything else.
Gundo intimidated all the missionary women. She was very tall and strong and perpetually angry. She hated all the “God talk” even though her husband, the chief, was a strong Christian.
Gundo had often threatened to put a curse on the missionaries. She tried to oppose the teaching meetings any way she could. She would pound grain during the meeting or allow her children to run through the meeting place screaming and crying.
But in spite of pounding grain and other interruptions, the teaching went on. And Gundo, in spite of herself, listened. God’s Word began to crack her hard shell of anger.
She began to sit in the meetings and would shuck peanuts to keep herself occupied.
One day when I was walking past her house again, I noticed that Gundo didn’t snarl at me. She didn’t smile or greet me, but she didn’t yell at me either.
I began to notice other things. The noise coming from her compound had lessened. Gundo didn’t get into screaming fights with the other ladies. At the meetings Gundo would forget to shuck peanuts. She would sit quietly, her eyes wide with interest.
Finally, God’s Word penetrated her heart and melted it. She trusted Christ and a new Gundo appeared. Her countenance was bright and she smiled.
Now she listened eagerly to the teaching lessons. She began building relationships with the other believers and the missionaries.
Now the ladies were delighted to see Gundo coming. She began to encourage them in the Lord.
When I returned to the USA for surgery, Gundo sent me a letter:
I greet you much. I have not forgotten our love for you. Because of all you did for us, we can’t forget you. My new birth, you have told me much about that, so I won’t forget. May God take your sickness away.
When I returned to the village, I was shocked when a tall, smiling woman embraced me in a tight hug. Since Malinkes do not normally show outward emotion, I knew that the welcome was from one sister to another.
I thank God for using Gundo to show me His power to change lives.
“I be taxa minto?” she snarled. Where are you going?
I replied with a quavering voice, “M be taxamala.” I’m just taking a walk. I hurried on before she could say anything else.
Gundo intimidated all the missionary women. She was very tall and strong and perpetually angry. She hated all the “God talk” even though her husband, the chief, was a strong Christian.
Gundo had often threatened to put a curse on the missionaries. She tried to oppose the teaching meetings any way she could. She would pound grain during the meeting or allow her children to run through the meeting place screaming and crying.
But in spite of pounding grain and other interruptions, the teaching went on. And Gundo, in spite of herself, listened. God’s Word began to crack her hard shell of anger.
She began to sit in the meetings and would shuck peanuts to keep herself occupied.
One day when I was walking past her house again, I noticed that Gundo didn’t snarl at me. She didn’t smile or greet me, but she didn’t yell at me either.
I began to notice other things. The noise coming from her compound had lessened. Gundo didn’t get into screaming fights with the other ladies. At the meetings Gundo would forget to shuck peanuts. She would sit quietly, her eyes wide with interest.
Finally, God’s Word penetrated her heart and melted it. She trusted Christ and a new Gundo appeared. Her countenance was bright and she smiled.
Now she listened eagerly to the teaching lessons. She began building relationships with the other believers and the missionaries.
Now the ladies were delighted to see Gundo coming. She began to encourage them in the Lord.
When I returned to the USA for surgery, Gundo sent me a letter:
I greet you much. I have not forgotten our love for you. Because of all you did for us, we can’t forget you. My new birth, you have told me much about that, so I won’t forget. May God take your sickness away.
When I returned to the village, I was shocked when a tall, smiling woman embraced me in a tight hug. Since Malinkes do not normally show outward emotion, I knew that the welcome was from one sister to another.
I thank God for using Gundo to show me His power to change lives.