We called him Mr. Bobby. I thought he was just like all the other white people who had come to our home in Mozambique – someone who loved Jesus – but when I saw what happened that night, I know that he doesn’t just love Jesus, he walks with God.
That night, Momma Heidi wanted to go to one of the villages where a team was going to show the Jesus movie, and she asked Mr. Bobby to go with her. I begged and begged her to let me go too, because she likes me to translate for her sometimes when the words are difficult, and she said yes!
We drove for a long time, and I could see the lights flickering near the huts as the Jeep pulled nearer. Momma Heidi jumped out: she’s always excited about people seeing and hearing about Jesus. I am too. I ran with her. I looked back while I was running after Momma and Mr. Bobby was getting out of the Jeep slowly. He looked tired, so I ran back to him and took his hand. He rubbed my hair and smiled at me. I like Mr. Bobby’s smiles.
Just when we were nearing the sitting people, Mr. Bobby stopped.
“Run over there,” he whispered urgently, so I ran to one of the huts and lay down. Mr. Bobby turned to look in the other direction, and out of the darkness I saw them: three men, and they looked very bad. The first man was a voodoo man - his face was all white, and was painted with some black marks. I’ve never seen a face before like his – it made me want to scream and get sick and run away all at the same time. The second man was one of the men we have seen before. He makes a lot of trouble for Momma and Poppa. He says Allah is God, but he is not. All the time he tries to get men angry and throw stones and burn down houses. He had a big stick in his hands. The third man had a bottle in his hands, and he looked like he was going to fall over.
Then, I started to see many men behind them, all holding things to hurt people with.
I looked at Momma Heidi with the village people. She had not seen them. We needed help, and we needed it fast. Momma Heidi could not stop these men, but my god could. I began to pray, but kept my eyes open.
Mr. Bobby curled his finger at the priest.
“Come here,” he said. My mouth must have been open, because the back of my throat went all dry. Did he not know how powerful the priests were? The priest’s eyes would have burned me into a heap of ashes, if he had looked at me the way he looked at Mr. Bobby. He stayed where he was.
“In the name of Jesus, I command you to come here.” My chin must have hit the ground when I saw the priest run and stop a little bit away from Mr. Bobby.
Then I saw Mr. Bobby lift up his hand. I heard a big noise like thunder, and from Mr. Bobby’s hand came a rope of lightening. The lightening hit the priest and his body was flung up really high into the air, and then it was thrown over the village huts and we all heard it thump onto the ground.
The bad men’s whites around their eyes got bigger and bigger and then they all sort of screamed at the same time and they ran really, really fast, far away.
Mr. Bobby’s chest went out in a big heave, and so did mine. He stood there for a few minutes in silence. I said nothing. I was still shaking. Then he turned around and smiled at me. “Rashid,” he said, “we have a very big god, and he cares about this village.” Then he walked to me, took my hand, and we went to tell Momma Heidi about how we almost died.
This is based on a true story Bobby Connors told about his trip to Mozambique last year. Everything he did in those moments was in obedience to what God told him to do. He heard afterwards that every deaf person in the village was miraculously healed the moment the voodoo priest landed on the ground.
Read about Heidi and Rolland Baker’s ministry in Mozambique: http://www.irismin.org/p/background.php
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