Missionaries in this mountainous region regularly get
together to help each other (far left), each month
gathering at a di erent mission eld. For most it means
a one- or two-day walk. The children of this village (left)
are familiar with hiking, too, since the closest school is
about an hour’s walk away.
This geographically isolated village high in Nepal’s
famous Himalayan mountain range was a dramatic
change from Suraj’s childhood home on the plains.
“Twice I woke up to find my hut was buried in
the snow. I come from a place where there is no heavy
snowfall, so I was scared; I thought I was going to
die!” Suraj remembered.
Suraj’s first encounters with Tienbeh and its
people came in the fall of 1999, when he was serving
in Ghenthu, a small town near Tienbeh. Part of his
routine ministry was to visit Ghenthu’s surrounding
villages and begin sharing the Gospel.
Since there were no roads—and no other
methods of transportation—Suraj would walk the
nine miles ( 14 km) from Ghenthu to Tienbeh. He
navigated his way along treacherous mountain trails
and balanced himself on precarious bamboo bridges
strung across rivers and lakes to get to the remote
village. The walk itself took an entire day.
How, Lord?
While Suraj was coming to terms with the physical
realities of witnessing in Tienbeh, he was also getting
to know the people who lived in the village. He soon
understood that they were devoted to two things—
their traditional religions and tonga, home-brewed
rice wine. These people Suraj came to reach viewed
him—and the Christian message he preached—as a
threat that would unravel their way of life.
“They tried to chase me out of the village for
bringing in a foreign religion and destroying their
culture and religion,” Suraj recalled.
Confronted with these overwhelming obstacles
during one extended visit, Suraj turned to the Lord in
prayer. The prayer vigil lasted for two months.
“How am I going to work here?” he asked the Lord.
“I sought His guidance to lead me to people and
make acquaintances so that I would be able to share
the Gospel,” he said, but he also freely confessed his
feelings about Tienbeh.
“I am discouraged by just seeing this place,
Lord,” Suraj prayed. “Help me to stand for you in
this village!”
The young missionary spent so much time in his
little rented hut, isolated in prayer, that it began to
attract attention. The villagers wondered why he
rarely came out and why they hardly ever saw smoke
from a cooking fire.
When he realized their curiosity, Suraj knew it
was time to do what he came to do—start telling
them about Jesus. Initially he set up a bench in front
of his little hut and placed Gospel literature on it. He
invited people to pick it up and read it.
There was a little bit of interest in the tracts and
Bibles; but then a rumor spread through the village
that the materials would defile anyone who read them.
“There were some who did not even want to
touch the literature, saying it is a foreign and a
low-caste religion,” Suraj said.
Confronting the rumors became Suraj’s first
opportunity to share the truth.
“I told the people that God cannot be possessed
exclusively by any one particular group of people or
by any one country. He is the God of all. All can come
and read the literature, and no one will get defiled by
reading or possessing a copy of it,” Suraj explained.
Although some villagers still hesitated, interest in
the Gospel slowly grew.
