Who was it that told us the car (NOT our 4WD) would make it to this village? Remind me to not believe that person again! After digging the car out of the deep dry-season sand about six times, we finally arrived at the village. Our little Rocky 4WD was a champ and probably laughing at all of us all the way out. There had been a death in the village, and we had gone to comfort the villagers and Jack was to speak. Ladies in their beautiful traditional chitenges were placing grass mats on the ground to sit on, and the beautiful harmony of their music had started. Before long, murmuring started and everyone rose to their feet……there was a truck coming bearing the body. Now, instead of singing, there began a loud wailing. Some of the wailing was by the family, but some by paid mourners to make sure the deceased was sufficiently mourned. After a few moments, all were called back to begin the service. Jack talked with them about the physical death of this young man, but how there is hope in Christ for eternal life. As soon as the service was over, a new murmuring began. It was time to bury the body. The Headman of the village and the witchdoctor were arguing over where to bury this man. The witchdoctor was adamant that he could not be buried where they had dug the grave as it was too close to the village. There was fear that this man, who had committed suicide, would come back and haunt the village if buried too close. The arguing went on and on. Watching all the children especially becoming very restless, I decided now was a good time for a diversion for them until there could be an agreement reached on the burial site. I had brought bubbles along to entertain the children as there was going to be a clinic after the funeral, and bubbles are a good diversion for little ones afraid of the mzungu (white person). As I began gathering my things from the Rocky, a crowd of children and adults began to gather round. Many did not speak English, so there was no way to tell them what I was doing. I had brought one of the really large wands and a large tray for the bubble solution. I poured the solution into the tray, dipped the wand, drew the wand thru the air over my head producing huge bubbles and small bubbles galore, and waited for the aaaahhhhhs. Well, aaaahhhhs is nowhere near what I got. Screams and shrieks sounded from all around me, and everyone scattered like a spooked covey of quail, with people running in as many directions as there were people. What in the world?! It took us over an hour to coax everyone back in, and that required lots of Tootsie Rolls as bribes. When everyone settled down, we asked what had caused them to run. The answer was astonishing as well as heartbreaking. They had believed I had created something out of nothing…that I had created magic. They were already a little afraid of this red headed mzungu, but were now terrified of my magic. I tried explaining to all of them what I had done, and even offered to let one of the braver young girls try it herself. But, of course, it would not work for her because the wind had blown lots of sand into the solution and it would not blow a bubble. Next time I’ll take more solution. It was so heartbreaking to see firsthand how Satan keeps such a strong hold on them thru their fear of their gods and what is demanded of them. They worship their gods out of fear, not out of love. Satan, or Satana as they call him, has real power and they see its effects every day. The witchdoctor uses this fear to get them to come to him to buy charms that protect them from the spirits and “witching” used against them. He gets rich off their fear. This truly showed the need for Biblically trained men to be raised up to teach and preach in these villages, and for independent, fundamental Baptist churches to be started in every village in Zambia. God’s Light needs to be poured into this “dark continent” to show His love and the way out He provided thru His Son; THE Light, THE Way, and THE Truth. Open their eyes Lord that they may see what you have for them! Use us Lord to carry your Light!