C-mail: Of Mosquitoes and Demons

Howdy All and Merry Christmas from Venezuela!

I hope you are all doing amazing and are incredibly excited for Christmas.  Yesterday made the two month mark of my time here in Caracas, and that time has flown by. Only now do I feel like I'm really arriving. I feel much more part of the community and culture; so much so that the song Feliz Navidad isn't annoying to me anymore. It's good to finally be here and fully present.  With that, on to the C-mail:

1. I must apologize in taking so long to get this letter out.  We've been hosting a remarkably amazing family from Guatemala for the past month.  However, this meant finding time on the computer to keep in touch or write updates has been nigh impossible.  As such, forgive me if I haven't responded to any your contacts.  Thankfully, I'm back in a position to be a bit more regular with corresponding….hopefully. 

2. Thank you so much for your prayers for the situation here in Venezuela.  The days leading up to the election were extremely tame and all marches happened without violence which is a HUGE praise!  As for the election results, the reform failed to pass by extremely narrow margin.  Less than 1% according to the first, unofficial numbers that have never been replaced with official results (which probably show the NO with a wider margin of victory).  From the numbers reported, there was a 44% abstention rate from the vote.  At the first the president took the defeat in the most gracious manner.  He called it a victory for the people, decided not to contest the results for the sake of unity in the country, and basically told everyone to go home and celebrate Christmas.  At least that was how it all sounded until I read this.  Now over a week later, the President is certainly not as docile and no one really knows what the next step is or where anything is headed.  What everyone does know is that there is no milk (unless you want to stand in line for 2 hours or buy the black market stuff from Argentina. In either case its $10-15 for 2 pounds of powdered milk) and the prices for everything else are rapidly increasing. This creates runs on everything from sugar to toilet paper, but thankfully that last one didn't take long to restock. 

3. Christmas is upon us once again and with it comes the apparent worldwide fascination with Christmas lights.  However, Christmas celebrations here more resemble the fourth of the July in the states, except the celebration lasts for a month, and is celebrated with bigger fireworks.  For Christmas, I'll be staying in Caracas at a ranch/farm for street kids with a ministry called Niños de la Luz (Children of the Light).  

4. As for prayer requests, pray for people's hearts to be open to Jesus, that new families and people would be invited into the house church and be willing to respond to Him.  Also, pray for our time over Christmas with the street kids and for the families and kids there as well.  Finally, pray for enough food and that the families that need it would be able to find milk and other necessities.  

Alright, I gotta roll, but I hope this finds you all well and healthy.  Thank you again for your prayers and messages.  I love and miss you all.  Have an amazing Christmas, seek the Lord and
Press on for Joy!
Cameron

 

I hate mosquitoes.  Traveling to South Americawasn't necessary to learn that little nugget of knowledge, but it hasn't hurt.  The little guys have really interested me recently.  Actually, I'm not so much intrigued by the mosquitoes themselves as in what they represent.  Their little insectoid brain is solely driven by a never satisfied desire for blood. Now I don't mind giving a bit of blood for a good cause (ie Red Cross or an intense game of Foosball) but loosing an ounce to these creatures and their disgusting selfishness is enough to quell my conscience about killing a handful nightly. I would figure killing mosquitoes or even just preventing them from landing on one's own skin would a universal given for everyone. I couldn't be more wrong.  

We were in the barrio across the way for a house church gathering.  A number of families that had been part of the house church network were in attendance, and one Venezuelan couple was leading the meeting for their first time.  A number of children from this barrio were present as well, making about 40 of us crammed into a partly completed house with three walls and a stunning view of the barrio and valley below in place of the fourth.  We were in the middle of worship and singing when another person appeared at the doorway.  A slightly heavy woman (the steady diet of deep fried corn, ham, and cheese can do that to anyone here) probably in her mid 40's stumbled into the room holding a liquor bottle lacking 2/3rd's of it's contents. Just like so many other occurrences of this same vein, everyone immediately noticed the entrance of someone out of the church norm, glanced at the stranger, glanced at each other, and a period of general awkwardness quickly ensued.  One woman tried to help her to leave, but the wife of the leading couple asked her to stay, told her she was a child of God and that she was loved.  The woman then proceeded to the middle of the room and caught my eye. 

I personally have a heart for addicts/alcoholics, and I try to be especially welcoming to them when they stumble into a church, where they should be welcomed the most.  As such, I tried to give her the most loving and warm smile I could muster.  However, the intensity in her eyes which were absolutely fixated on mine was overwhelming forcing me to look away a number of times.  I realized the smile I sent was being perverted in her mind and reflected back at me in a very sexual manner.  She eventually broke the stare after I refused to look at her for a minute.  The worship started up again and standing the middle, her shoulders jolted and shook, her feet hopped, and her hand holding the bottle started tracing out arcs on the floor.  It resembled a program from National Geographic about some old world tribe's ritual dancing.  We were all a little taken a back, and it was becoming clear that something else was at work aside from just alcohol.  The wife called to her, asked her what her name was. The woman slunk into a seat next to the wife, pulled her arms around her and put her mouth to her ear.  The wife began to repeat the messages the woman whispered.  "She said her name is Liza."  More whispers ensued. "She says she is scared.…she thinks someone is behind her....and she thinks it's the devil". 

At this point, it gets hard to relay exactly what happened and in what order.  By now, the fact that she was demon possessed was extremely clear in my, and everyone else's mind.  At the same instant, all I can describe is that the room was filled with voices.  Whether they were from everyone starting to pray or talk or whether it came from the woman, the demon, or something else entirely, I honestly couldn't say, but apparently very few other people heard the same phenomena.  The wife stayed at her side and people surrounded the woman to pray.  Being confronted, the demon screamed "NO! NO! NO!" and swung the woman's arms wildly in punches while tossing about her head and fearfully wide open mouth. 

I feel I need to pause here to address a bit of my own background.  First, growing up in the general evangelical world, stories of demons were relegated to Frank Peretti, the occasional missionary, and some accounts from the Gospels.  In any case, the stories were either in detail and fiction (ie Peretti) or described tritely with the phrase "and they cast out the demon."  The conclusions I drew from these sources were:
A). Demons are real and shouldn't be messed with.
B). Jesus, and specifically, His name (a concept which I still really don't understand), is more powerful than demons.
C). Battles (as they inevitably are referred to) with demons fall in the same realm as Lord of the Rings/Chronicles of Narnia in that it seems really cool although it'll most likely never happen and you shouldn't wish it to happen in accordance with point A.  
D). With such a short phrase, "casting out a demon" must be fast and easy, although I had no idea what it might actually look like since I'd never gone about my day casting out things (But mom, I cast out the trash yesterday!).
It was with these wonderful suppositions that I found myself sitting on the floor praying and hearing the confrontation play out. 

"Quiet yourself! . . . In the name Christ, be quiet! . . . BE QUIET!!" The screaming and thrashing stopped and gave way to concert volume wailing and almost weeping.  I prayed telling the demon to leave in Jesus' name, asking God to send His Spirit and fill the room with His presence.  The wailing continued.  I kept praying as did everyone in the room.  The wailing continued.  This was taking longer than the enigmatic phrase let on.  Perhaps a minute went by, perhaps five; time seemed to have no meaning.  In the middle of prayer, someone to my left gently nudged me and asked me to start praying for the children present.  Praying for the kids was the absolute last thing I wanted to do at that minute and a brief glance in their direction gave me the impression that they were fine and mostly unconcerned. A child was demon possessed in the middle of a classroom in this barrio a number of months ago and sadly, I think they are used to such incidences.  I agreed and started to get up towards the kids when someone started to herd them out.  At that moment, I felt a sense of relief, like a weight lifted or like the feeling of getting news that a loved one is safe in the midst of an accident.  I thought it was because the kids were leaving, but a split second after this feeling, the wailing stopped.  We turned to the woman, who instead of her previous appearance of exuding pride and confidence, now looked tired and decidedly intoxicated.  She felt her stomach and mumbled that something left her stomach.  At this point, her sister walked in, who also had a demon "cast out" of her about two months before I arrived, and taking the woman by the hand, led her out.  

Later that evening, I thought about what had happened.  I realized that even though the demon didn't come out immediately, that was ok.  Like so many things, God works in process.  Life takes time, God takes His time and I need to accept that.  Also, even though the process went a bit longer and messier than the phrase "cast out" would let on, the results speak volumes.  The purest expression of evil in this world left when surrounded with the authority of Christ.  Jesus truly is Lord over all and His Kingdom is near.  Through the cross, evil has already been defeated, and it may wail and moan all it wants, but its days are numbered. 

Now if this was simply a story about demons, I would be finished. However, this is a C-mail about mosquitoes and so I must continue. 

We visited her the following Friday.  We were taken to her house by her sister where an old man missing the majority of his teeth greeted us warmly as we entered.  The sister disappeared behind a curtain to bring the woman who had visited us.  She entered, and looked at us with a rather inquisitive expression.  We told her we had seen her the previous Sunday when she came to our meeting and wanted to come see her again.  She said she didn't remember meeting us or any such encounter.  She was articulate, sober, and seemingly not under any influence other than being intrigued by our presence. We had some awkward conversation, sang a few songs (she has a good voice) and greeted her brother as he entered. We then sang a song about the 100 sheep and the shepherd that left the 99 to retrieve the one.  After the song, our team leader began to explain the significance of this image of God in contrast to the two Christs the Spanish brought (one the victor that the natives needed to submit to; the other weak, crucified or a baby in the arms of Mary).  After about the fifth time the name Christ was mentioned, something in the woman sucked in her breath with a loud stream of air and her entire body tensed with strength beyond its own. It pulled her whole back and head into an arch beyond natural flexibility.  "Haga nada, es normal."  "Don't do anything, its normal" Said the old man and brother with the same level of concern regarding Uncle Harold choking on his annual cranberry at the Thanksgiving table.  We tried to honor their request and kept going as if nothing was happening.  After a minute or two, the woman relaxed, looked around, asked what happened, then wanted a glass of water.  Ten minutes later, she was just as lucid as ever. We wrapped up the session, asked if anyone was interested for another visit or a chance to talk more about the Bible or what we had discussed and were met with some silence.  We said our goodbyes with a bit of amiable small talk on both sides and left.  She stood in the doorway and kindly waved goodbye as we walked away. 

The thing about mosquitoes is that they are tenacious: you swat at them and they always come back, or at least a different one will take the place of another.  The other thing about mosquitoes is that I can't really kill a mosquito that has landed on someone else.  Technically, I have the power to kill any mosquito, but squashing the one on the neck of the guy sitting in front of me on the bus probably isn't the best way to make friends, or solve the problem on his neck. Unless he both knows and cares enough to want to be free of the pest, there isn't much I or anyone can do that will ultimately change his position.  It is frustrating to see mosquitoes getting their way over humans.  Perhaps even more frustrating is seeing image of God bearing humans acting like mosquitoes, but that's a different topic. For now, all I can do keep the critters off myself while hoping and being present for the day when that guy on the bus decides to want to be free.  Until then, the newspaper is rolled up and ready to go.  May God bless you and keep you from all bloodsuckers of whatever style.  Stay strong, seek the Lord and

Press on for Joy!