Go Beyond

Nepal is a land of unparalleled natural beauty. I’m talking about hard to put into words kind of beauty — the kind that takes your breath away, mesmerizes you, and leaves you slack-jawed and speechless. When in the presence of such beauty it really is best to just remain silent and let your head and your heart do their work of turning it all into something you’ll never forget.

Beyond the natural beauty of Nepal lies its true treasure — the various people groups that call this magnificent slice of geography their home. For everybody in America, cross-training is an exercise routine. For the Nepali people it is a way of life. From the time they are young, the folks around here become conditioned to walking up and down precarious mountain trails, often toting heavy loads.

For the past week, my team and I have served with our partners, trekking to villages in the Himalayas that redefine remote and rugged. Getting to these villages was nothing short of the kind of pain that makes your lungs scream as your legs question your sanity. And in this place, every step seems to lead you toward the clouds on trails that would make a mountain goat think twice. But, persistence pays off.

Bobby and Breck, a couple of the guys on our team, set off with our partners-turned-guides on a backpacking trek high into the mountains. They visited village churches where people gathered with friends and neighbors to watch the Jesus Film. Packed into small stone structures with low ceilings, men, women, and children sat on the floor and watched the story of Jesus unfold before their eyes.

For these church members, this was their first opportunity to see a story that they had only heard previously. It gave them a deeper understanding of the gospel narrative and how the pieces fit together. It was the kind of experience that works itself into dreams and will continue to play in their minds as they do their daily work.

For our guys, this challenging trek was an opportunity to hike slowly among the people, to have conversations along the way, to observe life as it is, to share meals in humble homes — essentially to build bridges of love that lead to meaningful interaction between people of different cultures. No wonder folks asked them to stay longer.

My friend Terry and I set off to do the same, to visit churches in remote areas. Our strategy involved driving on sketchy mountain roads and then hiking the rest of the way in. Our partner had asked us to teach on selected spiritual development topics in the churches. Some of those in attendance walked from as far as three-hours away in order to take part in this training. Humbling to say the least. That is what a spiritual appetite looks like.

A highlight for me was getting to meet a young man who pastors a church of about fifty people — amazing when you consider many of the villages are not much larger than that. This young pastor lit up the room with his smile. He radiated a contagious joy. I instantly liked him even before we were formally introduced.

And then I learned that his days are likely nearing an end. A little more than ten years ago a large tumor began to grow on his head. The prognosis was that he only had a short time to live. He found a doctor that agreed to help him but who was later killed in a plane crash. With no one to turn to, this young man turned to God and humbly asked for ten more years to serve Him.

That was eight years ago. He told us that he knows his days on this earth will soon end and has no complaints. He is grateful to God for giving him every single day. He determined a long time ago to not waste those days bemoaning his horrible condition but instead to embrace and to make the most of every day.

The young pastor invited me to take a photo of his tumor to serve as a reminder that we all deal with our respective thorns in the flesh. We can allow these things to either embitter or encourage us. He has chosen the latter and it has made all the difference for him and those to whom he ministers. Every day, that ugly tumor reminds him to do something beautiful for God. Totally inspiring.

We are now headed back to the States. As I write this post at thirty-five thousand feet with the impressive Himalayan range slowly fading out of sight, my heart is full. Our friends in Nepal blessed us with their hospitality, their smiles, and their words of gratitude because we had traveled so far to spend time with them.

When we parted we did so with the understanding that our next reunion may likely be when those from every nation and from all tribes and languages are standing before the throne and the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in our hands, crying out with a loud voice, “Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!” (Rev. 7:9-10). I look forward to that day.