A Story I Must Share

Extreme Missions

From: Warren and Victoria Aragona

Call us third world missionaries. Called from and sent to under-developed countries. We find God’s mission our food, an addiction, sometimes almost to the point of insanity to the majority’s perspective. Nevertheless, we hope to pioneer and reach the unreached, hope to survive and live to tell God’s story.

There is no better career in life than being God’s missionary. Seeing the churches planted and the believers worshipping at our house makes all and any circumstance worthwhile. Those that were baptized last February are active in church. Some of the believers at the capital are being geared to become pastors of their outreaches and eventually one will become our pastor in Rumkoal this end of the year.

I had thought that I might not possibly finish my term this time around due to the circumstance that we had been through this past two years. I don’t know now how many times a thief went to our house but the last time was two months ago (we weren’t there) breaking our front door and bedroom. I had to think hard what would possibly be lost – it couldn’t be the TV, DVD, Victoria’s jewelleries, lipstick or make-up or maybe laptop and I-pod...because we don’t have any of those. We did not worry about my chickens because they’ve been stolen several times and the last survivors all died from the previous epidemic. I think the thief’s frustration would be equal to mine – a give and take- he gave me a broken door and he took a disappointing cashless experience.

But God had been encouraging us too. God has planted a church in Rumkoal and He has shown Himself to its people. Like when a man tried to kill himself a few months ago; he was dying when we arrived. Foaming at the mouth, his body was twitching all over affected by the pesticide he swallowed. The big crowd gathered to witness his death. God was there. The man was about to cross eternity, never to come back. We looked at him and knew he was not ready. In public, we prayed to God aloud to spare his life and not let him go to hell. God heard. God intervened and God did not let him die and sent him to church that Sunday with his mother! (I had never thought suicide circumstance can be an evangelistic tool!)

It was also quite rough for us five months ago. We had given our lives before, even to death, just for the Master. But I did not expect the kind of dying during those months. You see, as most of us do, in the Philippines, still with emotional tears in our eyes we pray at the altar “....for missions...for the Lord...even if I have to die for you....we will live for you...”

That month was different; I thought Victoria and I were dying of HIV AIDS. “O my goodness! ... Lord, to be shot, OK, crucified just maybe....but to die with AIDS?! Lord, you got to be kidding me. It’s embarrassing and it would take ten years, agonizing years, until we drop dead!” (Quite a prayer, but I think I sounded like that). My only consolation was- I had something to write in my next newsletter!

In our area, many are infected with AIDS, some had died. Victoria had a patient who was diabetic, she injected her with insulin and accidental pricked her finger. It was still OK, because, although she is skin and bones, 19 yrs. Old, and weighs only 24 kilos in her 5’ 4” frame, she only looked diabetic. But the next day we learned that she used to work in a hotel for two years. I read Victoria's medical book and knew that the percentage is very, very high for us to be infected and the diagnosis will still come years later. It didn't take long for both of us to decide and accept that we will be dying for God... if it is AIDS and not firing squad as I opted then, let it be. It was a quite a pretty sad week for me that time seeing my wife doing the same chores but thinking she’ll die and then me next. But it was also a perfect time to say – “The Lord gives and the Lord takes away, blessed be the Name of the Lord.”

Since then, the girl goes to church regularly and I was at the liberty to have her blood tested at the capital. Through God’s grace she’s found to be negative with HIV-AIDS. All the while I thought the three of us (including the patient) were all dying and yet God in His own mercy knew what is best. She’s now a Christian, weighs 40 kilos (excellently normal) and goes to worship God!

Now this time around, we would have again the opportunity to give our lives for the Master, the conventional way. It did not take long though for me to discover that I’m no expert at it at all!

We invited Gene Cagas from Cebu to visit us hoping he could work with us someday. The Mekong River was at its lowest tide for the past 50 years. The 3-kilometer width was turning into fast rapids into some areas. Only 800 meters to the river bank the waters became very rough on the rocks. I knew we were courting trouble. The water was churning badly. Its shallow depth is undeterminable. We hit one rock; our canoe-like boat elevated itself and turned sideways attempting to capsize. Our engine roared some more to even out the strong current; we swerved hard right while tilting 90 degrees. Gene fell off with some of our bags. I took a quick glance at Victoria who was squinting with an anticipating anxiety. I knew she would fall out and be swept away by the river but I had to jump off the boat and hold it hoping it wouldn’t capsize over us. The driver followed suit. The boat didn’t capsize but Victoria, frowning in pain, was on the wrong side of the boat about to be ran over underneath. She was slow but fast enough to get into the boat again and jump on the other side. (She moved like James Bond but only with graceful shifts)

We could not progress on. Our boat was half-filled with water and our engine dead. We could not remain in the water, it was chest deep and pulling us away. We could not stay in the banks of one of the island, its steep loam soil could burry us in a frequent landslide. Honestly, I wondered if the Christians that sent us were still praying for us or some have diminished in their commitment. I guess many still did remember us.

It is one thing to serve God but another thing to see your wife in the river nursing her bruises and pain. I know she would not give up serving the Lord, but seeing her, all drenched, in the river, holding her right arm with her left hand preventing more injuries just in case she’s fractured, would make me stop and think that missions is not easy. Nevertheless the job has to be done recalling what the master said “Who will go for us?”

A boat came by with two Buddhist monks in it. Monks are not supposed to get near women but because they were my friends, I asked them to take Victoria with them while Gene and I stick it out in the boat. It was a day the Buddhists helped the Christian. Aren’t we also in the same position where in we should bend our rules and go to places where we are not supposed to go? Save those that are not supposed to be saved? Send missionaries to uncommon places where we have never thought of sending?

To this end, I have come to see, like Peter, that I am not capable of dying for my Master, nor worthy to answer His question if I love him, but one thing I can do- Is to wish I have another life to give to God again.