Peace Amidst Trials

During our last five-week stay in Wabag, we were again reminded of just how much the Enga people need God’s Word in their own language.

The town square across from the police station was filled with students one morning shortly after our most recent arrival in Wabag. I had received word the night before that the Secondary School Coordinator for Enga Province had been murdered in a dispute about who should be the principal of one of the local high schools. The school was immediately closed and the students came to town seeking answers from the government. When they didn’t get the answers they wanted, they started a small scale riot in town, burning down a vehicle that belonged to another school and throwing rocks at the Enga Provincial Government building. I (Adam) was working with our translation team in the Enga Cultural Center just down the hill from the center of town. We heard the popping sound of tear gas guns being fired as the police dispersed the crowd. We smelled the gas as we peeked outside to see people pouring down the hill out of the town center. The employees locked the gate and we continued our work after about a twenty-minute break. Public disorder like this is far too common in Wabag.



One of the Enga translators, Pastor John Singi, told me that he would not be coming into town to work until the situation grew less tense. But after two weeks of not hearing from him, I sent him a text message to check on him. I was shocked when his daughter texted me back to say that he had been robbed, abducted, and beaten, and that he was now in critical condition in the hospital. When I went to visit him, I found out that members of his own tribe had done this to him after falsely accusing him of stealing 8,000 kina ($3,200). They had also tried to make him drink acid, which would have killed him. Fortunately, he batted the acid away with his hand. Unfortunately, the acid landed on his stomach, where it caused several large sores. When I visited him, I could see God’s peace upon him despite the horrible ordeal he had endured. His attackers were unable to rob him of his joy. As a Christian, Pastor John is committed to pursuing peaceful and legal means to seek justice, which is remarkable in this culture of payback and retribution.

In yet another incident, the bishop of the Gutnius Lutheran Church, who had been properly excommunicated by the church because of issues of corruption, was allowed to remain in power when a court overruled the church’s constitution and bylaws. Although disappointed with the decision, we were not surprised by it since one of the judges is the corrupt bishop’s relative. As a result of the decision, our lead translator, Maniosa Yakasa, is legally banned from ministering in the Gutnius Lutheran Church since he was one of the main advocates for the corrupt bishop’s removal. Nevertheless, Maniosa is unfazed by the court’s decision and will continue working on the Enga Bible translation and ministering as God has called him.

A side effect of the court’s decision is that it complicates our plans to build a house at the Lutheran Seminary in the village of Birip since it is technically on the grounds of the Gutnius Lutheran Church. However, years ago the local land owners (the ones who really have the power) forbid the bishop from stepping foot on the seminary campus. We are confident that they will stand behind us and support us if we build a house on the seminary campus. Birip is one of the safest and best places for our family, and so we are continuing with our plans to build there despite the corrupt bishop. Nevertheless, we would appreciate your prayers regarding this matter.

As we share these events with you we realize that many of you might be tempted to worry about our safety. Even though the people of Enga are often violent toward each other, please be assured that they show the utmost kindness and respect toward us. We ourselves are quite safe, so please do not worry about us. At the same time, please pray for Pastor John Singi and for peace among the Enga people. And praise God that, despite the chaos, we are continuing to translate His Word into Enga without delay!

Encounter with God

I (Adam) ignored the voices of the security guards outside our home that morning. It had been too long since I had had quality time with God, and I didn't want anything to disrupt it. But soon I had to face reality. Security guards are not usually talking outside your house at six o'clock in the morning unless there is a problem. When Martha and I finally went outside, we discovered that the storage area under our house had been broken into and that the kids' bikes and my tools had been stolen. It was the second time our home had been broken into since we moved in a year and a half ago. The first time it happened, I had heard a loud crashing noise in the middle of the night. My first thought was that one of the kids had gotten up and accidentally knocked something over, so I ran out of the bedroom to see if they were OK. As I approached the family room, I saw a man trying to climb into the house through the window he had just shattered. I started yelling, almost growling, in a deep, loud voice, and the man ran away before he had the chance to take anything. Both break-ins happened right before a trip to Enga for translation work. The devil doesn't like that we are here.

A few days after the second break-in, I got bitten by a snake while working in the garden. I never actually saw it, but judging by the bite marks it was just a small snake, and after some time passed it became clear that it wasn't poisonous either. (Although I discovered, much to my chagrin, that the shortness of breath produced by the anxiety of being bitten by an unknown snake in the same country with a snake called the 'death adder' is remarkably similar to the shortness of breath one is supposed to feel when bitten by a venomous snake.) That night Jacob and Bella accidentally broke Asher's tricycle, the only bike that hadn't been stolen and which we had just recently received in a special shipment from America for Asher's birthday.

Three days later I left for Enga for a short ten-day trip to resume our translation work there. Since it was a relatively short trip, Martha and the kids stayed in Ukarumpa. Needless to say, I wasn't well spiritually. I was in a daze of confusion, doubt, and anger. As the Papua New Guineans would say in Tok Pisin, I had a 'heavy'. Transitions to and from Enga are always the most difficult time for me emotionally, mentally, and spiritually, and the 'heavies' from the previous week were really weighing upon me. I felt sick in the pit of my stomach. I went through all the doubts that the devil attacks me with from time-to-time. Am I really making a difference? Am I just wasting my time here? Will the Enga people really care that we are translating the Bible into their language? Why should I put up with break-ins, bathing in river water, and not having so many of the nice things that are part of every day life in America? I was physically affected by the spiritual heaviness and felt sick.

The day after I arrived in Enga, I poured my heart out to God in prayer. I wrote down exactly how I was feeling. I told God that I felt hopeless and alone, and I begged, literally begged, Him to help me. I have found in my experience that God rarely answers prayers like that for me immediately. However, by the end of the day I realized that the heaviness was gone. God had answered my prayer. He had also revealed to me areas in my life, like parenting, where I was falling a little bit short, and He gave me the grace and desire to begin making adjustments in my life.

Five days later, as I was relaxing on the couch after dinner, I looked up at a banner on the wall that says, 'Keep your eyes on Jesus'. I spontaneously started singing hymns. As I continued, I felt the Spirit of the Lord fall upon me in a wonderful way. The Lord led me through a wonderful time of prayer in which I felt closer to Him than I had felt in months, maybe even years. I physically felt His presence upon me and it was true bliss. God didn't abandon me. He has been here with me all along, and He reminded me of that at just the right time!

By the way, as a result of the second break-in, we are getting a watchdog, which is a highly effective way of protecting your home in Papua New Guinea. Her name is Yana, which means 'dog' in the Enga language. (We really stretched ourselves creatively to come up with that name.) She was born four days after the recent break-in, and we will take her into our home in a couple of weeks. The kids are so excited about getting a dog that they have been surprisingly at ease with having their bikes stolen.

Culture Hike

Recently I joined my friends Max and Benjamin from Immi village for a weekend hike out into the bush. I wanted to get a glimpse of life in Enga a bit off of the beaten path of the Highlands Highway. As I thought back on my trip, I was amazed at all of the little bits of Enga culture I encountered that seem so natural to me now, but which might be quite interesting for you, our partners back home to read about. So please take a moment and soak in Enga culture through the eyes of a weekend traveler into the bush.

I woke up at 6 in the morning and made my way to the bus stop in Wabag town to get on a PMV (public motor vehicle) to Immi village. My friends Max and Benjamin met me in Immi and we walked along the Highlands Highway toward the village of Birip. Benjamin refused to let me carry anything, which is typical of the type of special treatment our family is often shown. As we walked along, I greeted some friendly faces, which I remembered from our five-week stay in Immi last year. One lady, whose face I didn't recognize, was Maria, but she recognized me. Benjamin told her I had come, and she came from her garden trembling and weeping. She clung tightly to me in the way I would imagine a mother hugging a son she hadn't seen in years and thought she might never see again. It was humbling that just living with people in their village for five weeks could have such a powerful effect upon them.

When we arrived in Birip, we left the Highlands Highway and walked south along a bush road toward a mountain range. Before long, we had to cross a river by means of a large log that was about 18 inches in diameter, 20 feet long, and ten feet above the water. There were no handrails, so Max held my right hand in front of me and Benjamin held my left hand behind me as we went across. According to Enga ways of thinking, if I got hurt, it would be their fault and they would have to compensate me and my family for any injuries I sustained.

We then continued our hike, greeting the local people as we went. Benjamin said that they would be telling stories to their friends and family members for weeks to come about the 'white man' who passed through their village. Three and a half hours later, and 2,200 feet higher, we reached the summit of Sambe mountain. My right knee had started to hurt, and so I was very thankful that we would now be going downhill. For the next hour we walked through the part of the mountains where nobody lives...the true bush. As we crossed over the mountain range, we began to enter the Saka Valley, one of the most beautiful valleys I have ever seen. It was full of beautiful rivers, thatched roof homes, gardens, trees, mountains...even the road was beautiful (a rarity in Enga province).

It was raining during the last hour and a half of our hike, and my knee was hurting more and more with every step. As we approached our destination we met up with James, Benjamin's relative, who led us into the village of Yokosa (which was on the other side of a slippery bridge that, although wide, was deteriorating and currently situated at a 30 degree angle toward the river). As we entered Yokosa, we passed through the market area, where many wanted to shake my hand (a custom much more important for Papua New Guineans than it is for Americans). But because of the rain we didn't stay in the market very long and couldn't greet everyone who wanted to greet us.

We went on a little bit farther until we arrived at James' brother's house, where we would be staying. It was one of the nicest bush houses I have ever seen: well-built, clean, and spacious, with lots of light pouring in from the windows. There was exactly one chair, which had obviously been placed right next to the fire for me. (Papua New Guineans generally don't use chairs but they know 'white men' prefer them.) I've learned to get over the embarrassment of situations like this and just kindly accept the special provisions that are sometimes made for me. So I sat down on the chair while everyone else sat on the floor.

It rained for the rest of the day, so we spent the afternoon and evening sitting around the fire talking (or 'storying' as they say in Papua New Guinea), and eating four different foods which were served in succession. First we had sugar cane, which is a customary way to welcome visitors in Enga. Engans just use their teeth to rip off the skin, bite off a chunk, chew it up, suck the juice out, and spit out the remainder. (Technically speaking, you 'drink' sugar cane rather than 'eating' it.) Benjamin knew I would have trouble removing the skin with my teeth and was kind enough to cut the skin off my sugar cane with his bush knife (machete). Even so, I made a mess of the sugar cane trying to bite off the chunks and sugar water dripped all over the floor. Next we had sweet potatoes (the staple food of the Papua New Guinea Highlands), which were cooked in the ashes of the fire and eaten with no condiments, plates, or silverware. Then we had corn, which was cooked in its husks on the lid of the top portion of a 55 gallon drum placed over the fire. (This is by far the most common type of cooking set up I have seen in Enga.) The corn was also eaten with no condiments, plates, or silverware. Finally, we had pumpkin greens, which were boiled in oil and water in a large wash basin set on top of the drum lid. Even after the water had been boiling and the greens had been cooking for a long time, James' wife Jenny picked up the lid and the basin with no hot pads. (Engans seem to develop a tolerance to heat in their hands, and even put them in the flames of the fire for seconds at a time without feeling any pain).

Knowing that I would be fed and given a place to sleep, I had brought a small bag of basic supplies, including salt, sugar, cooking oil, soap, matches, and crackers (as well as some lollipops) to give to James and his family. While Papua New Guineans usually have more than enough to eat from their gardens, basic packaged supplies like the ones I brought are a bit of a luxury. The mother of the family detailed to various people throughout the night the list of items I had brought for them because she was so excited to receive them. Even though I had bought the crackers in Wabag town, the family had never seen them before and were quite excited to eat that particular 'white man' food. The family had four children, and the first born was an eight year old boy. I asked his parents if he had ever seen a 'white man' before, and they said no. Their youngest daughter, who was about two years old, was scared of me at first, but I assured her in Enga, “Don't worry...I don't eat children.” That seemed to be good enough for her, and the next morning she even let me hold her.

About 7:30 p.m., the questions of 'Do you want to go to sleep?' started coming. I shouldn't have been surprised by this. We had learned during our training in Madang that when we stayed the night with Papua New Guineans, we would be encouraged to go to bed early so that they could then talk freely about us and all the things we do that seem so strange to them. (It doesn't seem to bother them or occur to them that we can hear what they are saying through the thin bamboo walls!) I resisted for an hour until about 8:30 p.m. when the repeated question of 'Do you want to go to sleep?' became so persistent that I started laughing out loud. So I finally agreed, even though I wasn't tired, because I knew they wanted to talk without me there. James' brother even came to make sure that I closed the door to my room! Sure enough, as soon as the door was closed, the room erupted with conversation! While I didn't understand everything they were saying, I understood enough to know that my training in Madang was correct! I picked up phrases like 'he even carried his own water'. (Engans don't seem to believe me that even though the water from the stream is clear to the eye that it can still be impure and cause me to become sick. It is very odd that I would carry heavy bottles of water when I could just drink from small streams along the way.) Well I just decided to let them have their fun talking about all the strange things I do without taking offense. (I have certainly had some laughs of my own about the things they do!)

When I woke up the next morning, I immediately emptied a one-serving-size packet of instant coffee into a plastic water bottle and drank it cold. (Papua New Guineans don't generally drink coffee in the morning and usually don't offer anything to drink other than the sugar water you get when you 'drink' sugar cane.) I won't get into the details of bathroom procedures in the village other than to say there was nothing there other than a nice deep hole and a four-foot high wall on three sides.

As everyone gathered together, we had more sugar cane and sweet potatoes for breakfast. Since I had to be back in town that night, we started making our way back at about 10 o'clock. We decided to go a different route that wouldn't require hiking back over the mountains. My knee was still hurting from the prior day's hike, and so I was really hoping we might find a PMV to take us most of the way. I had seen only one vehicle the day before on the remote road we had walked along and that was an ambulance (which in Papua New Guinea is usually a Toyota Land Cruiser), so I didn't have high hopes for finding a PMV. We walked through the valley, greeting people, and shaking hands along the way.

My knee kept hurting more and more as we went. I knew it would be a six hour hike or so if we couldn't find a PMV, so I was doing my best to just ignore the pain and tough it out. Benjamin's legs were also hurting (carrying my heavy bag didn't help him), and so I was praying that God would make a way for us to get back home without having to walk for six hours. After hiking for two and a half hours, my knee was in such pain that I told everyone that we had to rest for a while. As soon as we sat down on the side of the road, a blue Land Cruiser came by. It was a private vehicle, not a PMV, but at that point I didn't care. I waved down the driver to stop, knowing full well that the curiosity and hospitality typical of the Engan people would make any driver very likely to stop and help a foreigner who needed a ride. Much to my relief, he pulled the car over, rolled down the window, and said, “Do you know who I am?” I recognized his face immediately but struggled to match it with a name. Then it hit me, “You are Ezekiel,” I said. “Ezekiel Peter, the General Secretary of the Gutnius Lutheran Church." I had met Ezekiel on my very first trip to Enga, and he is a good friend of our lead translator, Maniosa Yakasa. Ezekiel told us to hop into the car, and he drove us the rest of the way home. God heard my prayer and took care of our need.

As we passed through Birip (where we had started our hike), I saw the vehicle of a new missionary family in Enga. So we stopped (in the middle of the highway mind you) and had a conversation. They asked me to join them in town for lunch, which I happily accepted. After a good lunch catching up with good friends, I went home, limped up to the house covered with mud, went into the bathroom to take a shower, turned on the water, and nothing happened. The water was out...typical of a weekend in Wabag.

Love Your Enemies

In a culture where payback and retribution are still common practices, small acts of love and forgiveness show that God’s Word is beginning to take root.

I (Adam) will never forget when I called our dear friend and co-translator Maniosa Yakasa to see if his house had been burned down in tribal fighting. He told me in his unique singsong style of English, “They murdered seven of my pigs and burned down eleven houses.” I had never heard the term ‘murdered’ said with such pleasant intonations, nor used to describe the killing of pigs. But the way Maniosa said it showed the joy and peace that was in his heart because of Christ. Most Engans would be on the warpath if someone ‘murdered’ such highly prized possessions as pigs. Fortunately Maniosa’s house was not touched, even though some of the houses right behind his were burned to the ground. 

On our next trip out to Enga, we brought some children’s clothes and shoes for the people of Sakarip who had fled because of the tribal fighting. I gave them to Maniosa to deliver to whoever needed them most. Even though most people had fled, Maniosa was still living in Sakarip, where gunmen were nightly roaming through the village hunting their enemies who had previously sought refuge in Sakarip.

The next time I saw Maniosa he told me that he had delivered the clothes and shoes to his enemies! I was amazed by Maniosa’s ability to love the same enemies who had caused so much destruction and turmoil in his village. It gave me hope to see that God’s Word is changing even the most deeply rooted cultural norms. Maniosa understands that the only way to stop fighting and killing is by love and not by more fighting and killing. I pray that as people hear God’s Word in Enga that they too will learn to love their enemies!

Translation Progress
During our recent six-week stay in Wabag, we completed drafting the first twelve chapters of the Gospel of Mark. Our goal was to finish the first eight chapters, and so it was encouraging to be so far ahead of schedule. Immediately after returning to Ukarumpa, we had three Engans join us to have our translation of the Abraham story, which we had completed earlier in the year, checked by a consultant. The consultant check is a tedious but necessary part of the translation process, whereby a person who does not speak Enga and who has not been involved in the translation process checks our work. Because the consultant does not speak Enga, we must first translate our work back into English. The consultant then checks our English back-translation to make sure that we haven’t missed anything and to provide other helpful suggestions based on his own experience.

After the consultant check, I (Adam) prepared the back translation of the first twelve chapters of Mark that we had drafted in preparation to have that checked later this year. Now I am back in Wabag for a short trip to review the notes from the consultant check for the Abraham story as well as my own notes on the first twelve chapters of Mark. There are a lot of steps to the process!

Prayer for Building a House
During our last stay in Enga, we were informed that the apartment where we are staying in town will no longer be available after 2014. That news is a blessing in disguise because it has been difficult for the kids to be in town without space outside to run around and play. We have now lived in three different places in Enga and honestly we are tired of moving and not having a stable place of our own. As a result, we are praying about building a small house on a seminary campus in Birip, a village about twenty minutes outside of Wabag town. This area has been relatively insulated from tribal fighting over the years, and it has lots of space for the kids to play. The seminary seems willing to give us land to build, but the thought of building a house is daunting! Please pray that God would give us clear direction and provide the funds and practical help that we need to build a home that will provide a stable place for our family.

Is It Worth It?

They must have wondered what the white lady was doing. I (Martha) sat a few rows from the back on a wooden pew in a church in Wabag. Adam had been invited to preach that Sunday and near the end of the sermon he pulled out an Audibible with the story of Abraham in Enga. I began to twist and turn, stretching any way I could, watching the faces of the men and women sitting near me on the wooden benches. I searched for a glimpse of something in their eyes. I wanted to see something that would tell me… it was worth it.

I have asked this question many times over the past two years. Is it worth it?

I asked this question while lying on the floor of a dark bush house shining a light on the rats circling the ceiling above my head. I asked this question while riding in the back of an open truck in the pouring rain with my husband and children and a pile of stinky pig poop. And most recently I asked this question when we were spontaneously invited to someone's home while shopping in the open market of Wabag, and the path to the home required climbing up a mountain of trash.

Truth be told, these inconvenient moments don't take up the bulk of our life here, they simply make for interesting stories. Most of the time we live in a western style house, and most of the time the hardship doesn't stem from the uncomfortable situations we sometimes find ourselves in. It comes from something else.

When Adam pressed the play button on the Audibible that morning, it took everything in me not to stand up on the bench and start hollering, "Do you know what I left to come here? I wasn't there when my niece was born...I really miss my friends and family...my heart was wrenched when I watched my son say goodbye to his best friend, and it felt like I had died and the world was moving on without me." I wanted to say this… but I didn't. Instead I searched their eyes as they watched the tall white man pull something out of his pocket and press a button.

We've been here for two years now. If you had asked me two years ago if I had a heart for the people of Papua New Guinea, I would have said no.

But this past year there were sporadic moments when I fell in love. When I saw the wide toothy smiles of the three men my husband honored from the village of Immi, my heart opened up. I have never in my life seen smiles like that.

Earlier this year, we brought several men to Ukarumpa, many of whom did not know each other, to be trained in translation. I watched those men become a team, become a family. And they became our team, our family. I remember the moment well. I stood there watching as they all sat at desks, diligently trying to complete an assignment and flipping through their books. They didn't know it at the time, but I sat there and let the realization hit me. I love the people of Papua New Guinea.

Nevertheless, on that Sunday morning I got up on one knee so that I could see their faces, their eyes. Papua New Guinea is so far away, and we live a life that is filled with constant goodbyes, and I wonder if I will ever fit in here, and I worry about how all this will affect my children. As Adam pulled out the Audibible and pressed play, I could see everyone sit up a little straighter. They began to listen to the story of Abraham in their own language, while I continued to twist and turn and watch. It didn't take long for me to see what I was looking for, for God's assurance to wash over me, for me to say, "Ok God, I get it." Because when I watched their eyes as they listened, I saw it…I saw light.

These are the moments that help me answer the question, "Is it worth it?" Yes, it is worth it when I see the reactions of the Engans who hear Adam speak their language. It is worth it when I realize that my children don't have to live this life, they get to live this life. For every goodbye, there is a hello that follows. And even though I would give anything for Adam to be able to bring home a pizza for dinner, I know that it is worth it, because God is in it.

Eternity Matters

Recently I (Adam) traveled to Port Moresby, the capital of Papua New Guinea, to meet with Engans who live there. While most Engans live off of the land in bush houses far away from the capital, a select few have the opportunity to live in Port Moresby. Often the Engans in Port Moresby are the ones who have the best education and who work in a business or government setting. Their knowledge of English is quite good, and they will even speak English to one another at times when discussing business matters.

When I met with a small group of recent college graduates, I told them, "Even though you are fluent in English, the Bible doesn't have the same power as it does when you hear it or read it in your own language." Rocklcon Rolan, one of the young men from that group, recently emailed me and said,

"I was so encouraged with what you have said in the meeting. We can read but we don’t understand the content and the scope of the Word itself. That is true and I say amen to that. Thank you for committing your life, risking your family, leaving your comfort zone, leaving behind your races of people, coming into my country, getting right into my province. God Almighty will richly bless you for what you are doing. This is a perfect investment on a proper soil for eternity matters. I love you from the pinnacle of my heart and our Heavenly Father will protect your family while you are [in Enga]."

Rocklcon's email just goes to show that even the Engans who are most fluent in English see a strong need for the Bible in their own language, not to mention those who don't understand any English at all.


The day after I met Rocklcon, I visited a church in Port Moresby attended by about two hundred people (95% of whom are Engans). The pastor asked me to share at the end of the service, and I began by saying, "Nambe Enga piyame latoo kaya," which means, "Let me speak in Enga." As soon as I said that, the church erupted with applause, once again confirming that there is something special about your own language. It is not just the words that you speak but it is who you are. I played a sample of our recently completed draft of the story of Abraham in Enga, and people were already asking when they could get a copy. Again, these are Engans who have a high degree of fluency in English, yet they have an incredible hunger for God's Word in their own language.

Sometimes when people consider the enormity of translating the Bible into another language, they are tempted to say, "Why not just teach people English so they can read the Bible in English?" But the longer I am here, the more convinced I am that everyone deserves the chance to hear the Word of God in their own language. It truly is the only language that will speak to their hearts!

What Does It Really Mean?

While Engans are experts at speaking their own language, sometimes it is a challenge for them to provide clear explanations in English of what individual words actually mean.

“What does ‘endaki pete tombapae’ mean?” I ask one of the Enga translators. “It means ‘well’,” he replies. “OK, so I know that ‘endaki’ means ‘water’ and ‘tombapae’ means something like ‘dug out’, but what does ‘pete’ mean?” I ask. “The whole thing just means ‘well’,” he says again. “Yes, but I need to tell our consultant exactly what each word means in English so that he can check our translation. Doesn’t ‘endaki pete’ mean ‘lake’ when it doesn’t have the word ‘tombapae’ at the end?” I ask. “Yes, that’s right,” the translator replies. “So if ‘endaki’ means ‘water’ then what does ‘pete’ mean in that case?” I ask again. “The two words ‘endaki pete’ just mean lake,” he says. “So ‘endaki pete tombapae’ means ‘dug out lake’?” I ask. “No, it just means ‘well’,” he says.

Welcome to the world of back translation! In order to ensure a good translation that is accurate and faithful to the meaning of the original text of the Bible, one of my (Adam’s) duties as the Enga Bible translation advisor is to write an extremely literal word-for-word translation of our Enga Bible translation back into English. A translation consultant then reads our back translation and compares it with the original Hebrew and Greek texts of the Bible to make sure that we haven’t inadvertently changed the meaning of the text. It is a painstaking process, but it is worth it to ensure that the Word of God is accurately and faithfully communicated to the Enga people.

By the way, if you have any idea of what ‘pete’ might mean, please let us know. Our best guess at this point is ‘hole’, which would mean that a ‘well’ in Enga is literally a ‘dug out water hole’.

The Abraham Story
During our five weeks in Wabag in August and September, we completed a draft of the Abraham story (Genesis 11:27–25:11). After returning to Ukarumpa, Adam and William Walewale, one of the Enga translators (whose daughter is pictured below), recorded the translation and loaded it onto solar-powered MP3 players for testing in Enga villages to ensure that the translation is natural and clear. While the Enga translators tested the translation in villages, Adam prepared the back translation of the story into English for consultant checking. By the end of this month village and consultant checking should be complete, and we will then finalize the story, record the final version, and publish it. In the meantime, we are currently in Wabag for another five weeks working on a draft of the book of Mark, which we hope to complete in early 2014!

Morning in Prayer
While the demands of being a full-time mom have made it difficult for Martha to be actively engaged in the work of language learning and translation at this point in her life, she has felt the Lord directing her to take a leadership role in Ukarumpa’s monthly Morning in Prayer service. Living together with other missionaries during our time in Ukarumpa, we are acutely aware of the need for prayer. As this community steps out in faith to do what God has called us to do, we often feel the spiritual oppression that seeks to oppose everything we do. Martha has seen the effectiveness of prayer in her own life and is convicted by the positive influence of people like her Aunt Ruth Summers who faithfully prays for others every day. As a result, Martha has taken the initiative to ensure that prayer is at the forefront of what we as a missionary community in Papua New Guinea are doing as part of our overall ministry of Bible translation. Please pray for Martha as she continues in this leadership role.

Lives Forever Changed Video
Newbreak Church has completed the first of three videos about our translation work among the Enga people here in Papua New Guinea. Go to https://vimeo.com/75598794 to watch the video online. Thank you to Luke Shearer for coming to Papua New Guinea and capturing the heart of what we do!