The Fringe of the Jungle

I couldn’t speak around the lump in my throat. As his words sank in, so did the reality of what we are doing — of what it might cost.

“They asked us to come,” Greg’s voice shook with excitement. “They invited us to go up the river. They want our help. They know they need a salvation.”

He was telling me about our people. One of the groups to which we were sent. They live deep within the jungle, where sickness and hopelessness pervade. We recently learned thirty-three of the males killed themselves last year. Some venture out of the jungle, to the nearest towns, searching for help, education, and medicine, but those who make it to the towns are introduced to drugs, alcohol, prostitution and gambling, spend money they do not have, and become trapped by a new sort of problems.

We live on the fringe of this jungle. We positioned ourselves here because we cannot go in unless they ask. We thought it would be 10 years before they did.

I thought back to a journal entry from the previous week: It’s almost beyond my ability to comprehend that people yet exist, untouched by the outside world, hidden by miles of dangerous green, filled with jaguars, poisonous creatures, anacondas and deadly fungi. 

Stranger still, to sit here at the edge of it, hoping to understand it, waiting to see how and when to enter it.

Greg went on, “They know they need help. They fear they are losing their culture, and their population is dwindling because of the suicides. They feel they are a people forgotten, overlooked.” He paused. “It may mean a very different life than the one we thought. I may be gone for weeks at a time on the river.”

My mind instantly flooded with questions, thoughts, fears. What about the dangers, the unknowns of the jungle and the river? What of the days with no cell signal, nights with no knowledge of his whereabouts or safety? What about our two small children? What if we have an emergency, I wondered, thinking of the tiny one-room public hospital our town has.

“This is an unreal opportunity!” I heard myself say. And I meant it with every fiber of my being. This is what we’ve been asking for and all we’ve been working towards since we got married.

The coming weeks and months are uncertain. The task at hand seems overwhelming—impossible even. We’ve known all along it would be, but now it’s here.

But even through the fog of these events and changes, for us it remains simple:

We have but one purpose, and one life to give.

*        *         *

God, in His glorious way and perfect timing, has chosen to place our family in this place at a truly incredible time. “Our people,” are struggling in the jungle which is forcing them out, but they are coming to realize that they face just as many or more problems if they reach the cities. This is creating a sense of desperation, for the preservation of their ancient culture and way of life, as well as for hope of any kind. One man asked Greg specifically if he would come and bring about the salvation of his people. We are in awe and humbled by these things. We ask for your prayer. For wisdom — the jungle is dangerous and the people in it are broken — and for the true salvation of our people.