When Does God Heal? Jenny’s Subdural Hematoma and Healings in the Lives of our Village Friends

After Bill’s parents left, we went back to the village where much medical work was waiting. Kunti, the dear young lady who worked for us, also moved in with us. She was such a gift from Father’s heart to us. She served with cheerfulness and a willing heart.

From my journal: “The mountains are beautiful. The work is mountainous.” Bill continued working daily with Kissan and a new friend and worker named Hatana. He was working to understand the grammar of the Tharu language. I continued with the literacy work and analyzing the phonology of the language.

With our health challenges, the Lord continued to encourage us to trust Him. Then we began to see healings as we prayed for village people who came for help. One man named Sahu came with a dislocated hip that the Lord put back in place when we prayed. One time a shot of penicillin, and prayer, “cured” an older person with a severe case of bronchitis. Another time two aspirin, and prayer, would “cure” a broken finger.

We never understood the why of when God heals and when he withholds healing. We never knew what to expect, only to pray when He brought us into the lives of specific people who came to us for help. One time God didn’t heal was for a woman who had become blind. Our hearts were sad, but we left her in His hands.

While He was healing many in the village, one day “Jenny fell off a ladder and hurt her head and stomach. She seemed OK, but last night she vomited and today she won’t wake up. There’s nothing worse than holding a sick child in your arms and not being able to do anything."

We packed up and were getting ready to take her to Kathmandu for medical help, hoping for a commercial flight to be available. There were only two flights a week to our airstrip in Bharatpur. From my diary:

During our packing, Bill decided to pray for Jenny. He went to her crib and prayed, rebuking the illness in Jesus’ Name. When he stepped back, he accidentally stepped on Jonathan’s hand who was sitting at the doorway watching all this. When Jonathan let out a cry, Jenny opened her eyes and woke up. This was God’s doing and to his glory. Jesus made her well in an instant.

We are still watching her closely. We believe God wants us here and He wants her well. It’s the first time Jenny’s been sick enough for me to be truly concerned for her life, and to ask if I’m willing for any of us to be sacrificed for our Tharus, that they might know Him.

When we later returned to Kathmandu and she was examined by a doctor, we were told that she must have had a subdural hematoma (blood clot on the brain) and that only God could have touched and healed that there in the village. Another doctor told us the same thing and we gave thanks for God’s love-care for Jenny and us.

While we were in Kathamandu, Jenny and Jonathan both had good friends when in Kathmandu, especially from the Kotapish family. Here’s a picture of Jenny with Glenn Kotapish playing a game of “roll the onions.”

And here’s a couple of Jonathan with good friend Dawn Kotapish, climbing the Mt. Everest of pillows.

Jenny Turns One, Bill's Parents' Visit Us, Mt. Everest, and Our Village: MoreTales from the Mountaintops and Valleys Below Continued

This next half year was full of lots of good things and better health.

During this summer, Jenny began to sleep for more than a few hours and once she even slept the night! We were so blessed. Here's a picture of Jenny at 13 months old trying to comb her curly blond hair! She's standing in the bedroom of our home in Kathmandu.

After a summer in Kathmandu, doing language analysis work with Kissan and another Tharu friend named Hatana, we again planned to return to the village in September. We were also excited because Bill's parents were coming to visit and wanted to come to the village too. Bill's folks arrived October 13th, four days early--their telegram telling us of the date change never arrived. But how glad we were to see them and be together. "Bill's mom is so good with Jon and Jenny and I am learning from her example."

Before taking them to the village, we took them in our small JAARS plane for a tour of the Himalayas, to see Mt. Everest up front and real. Very impressive. That's Bill's dad on the right sitting next to pilot Wayne Aeschliman.

As soon as we returned to the village, the medical work did too. With Bill's parents help with the children, I was able to complete 24 literacy primer lessons and set out to test these. You can see me here working with two of the girls from the village.

Up until now, most of these dear people, especially women, didn't know how to read at all. We brought National Geographic magazines for them to see but they didn't know how to hold them or even look at pictures. We had to start from scratch in basic literacy before they were ready for primer lessons. So after laying a basic foundation, I began using the materials. The people were very enthusiastic about seeing their own language written down. I'll photocopy one of the first stories in the primer here. The word at the top is kai, meaning "eat": the story is about how the jackal is eating the pheasant.

A highlight of this time was celebrating Jenny's first birthday with Dad and Mom and our village family. We tried making ice cream to serve Kissan and his whole family, including Kissan's mom and dad (who was in his 80's--quite old for their normal lifespan). In the photo I took, below, you can see Jenny on Grandma Leal's lap. Look at those blond curls (she still has all the curls, but left the blond behind)! That's our village backyard we're in, with back door behind us all.

We returned to Kathmandu in mid November after a great time in the village. During the next few months we also began to meet for fellowship with several other Wycliffe friends, some British colleagues, and two Catholic Jesuit priests. We all hungered to know Him more and spent time worshiping together. It was also a time I began rereading Madame Guyon's works, seeing how completely she rested in every adverse circumstance. "Quiet acceptance, meeting God in the inner man while the world around rumbles."

The Village Doctor Gets Malaria with 106 Fever: More Tales from the Mountaintops and Valleys Below

One of my jobs was to be the local village "doctor." I was running a flourishing medical practice (unpaid) among our village friends, and others came from surrounding villages too. In Jungle Camp we had received basic training in various health problems, and we had several medical manuals, including the Merck Manual. But the reality was greater than we knew. We treated open wounds, pneumonia, gave shots of all kinds (I even had to give Jonathan shots when he got a high fever and was quite sick with bronchitis). But the hardest one I couldn't treat was when a teenage boy fell off the top edge of a fence and tore open all the skin in his private parts. We sent him to the small hospital in Bharatpur to get stitches. We sent other severe cases like this there too, though we were the follow-up team, changing dressings, providing shots and medicine and check-ups.

Those we helped would bring food in return, or invited us to eat with them, always yummy, but very spicy. Besides this, we often had visits from our Wycliffe colleagues. This time down Ron and Gail came with their boys, went swimming with us in the Rapti River and took elephant rides. Probably swimming in our local river where the cows drank and bathed was not the best, in retrospect.

After a month in the village, we again faced medical challenges. I came down with a very high fever. Bill made contact with Kathmandu and arranged for an emergency flight, though they were waiting on a broken part for the plane so we had to wait an extra day. According to my journal, 

We took off from our village for the airstrip in a dilapidated jeep with no roof but a piece of plastic that Bill put above us to protect us from the rain. We arrived at the appointed time of 8;30, but no plane. Finally at 9;30 Bob came and landed and "Praise God" were our first words! I was quite ill by this time. Next to the plane were two of our amazing JAARS pilots who flew our teams to and from our villages.

SIL pilots beside one of the two JAARS planes at the airport in Kathmandu.

By the time we landed in Kathmandu, I was rushed to the hospital where tests were begun. Our friends Ron and Gail took our kids for us. Continuing from my journal,

Saturday evening I started shaking with chills and my fever kept going up. The thermometer was kept on the small table next to the bed. My fever peaked near 106 degrees. Before that I thought 103 was high! At first they thought it was a severe bladder infection, but the chills and fevers came every 18 hours, so then they knew it was probably malaria and began treatment. Bill was exhausted too. They kept the fever down with medication. "May 25, 1073: Isaiah 48:9-13: I have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction...."

However, I must have been allergic to the morphine they gave me. When it was time to sleep, I began seeing nonstop pictures. That morning I had told the doctor I saw a yellow duck with a tuxedo walk across the ceiling. He laughed. But then my private cinema began and hallucinations lasted until 4:30 in the morning when the doctor prescribed something to stop them. Bill called our friend Gail to come sit with me as he was so tired too. Gail came and we began rejoicing together and praying for others. And then sleep came."

It was another mercy of God to hold the high fever until we reached Kathmandu. The hallucinations continued to come on and off for many days. Really strange and some scary ones. (I don't know why anyone wants to try drugs). One time, in one corner of my hospital room, there was a large flower pot that kept changing different kinds of flowers. Once a nurse came in and her earrings had live birds flapping their wings and chirping. When I hit rock bottom thinking they would never stop, and with complete weakness, I felt myself slipping and could do nothing but trust my Shepherd and Lord. He told me not be afraid, I would be alright. Soon I received an injection and had the best night's sleep in a week.

Then the doctors found I also had several kinds of worms and had to treat those too. They found other things in my blood they also treated. Carl and Sharon Kotapish came by and visited too. How grateful we are for the family of God He put around us here and now."

After several weeks I regained strength. And we got some good news about Jonathan. He had been treated for over a year now for tuberculosis and the new X-rays made it possible to finally declare him cured! We had much to rejoice over in God's goodness and healing. We had a ceremony of flushing down the toilet the remaining pills. 

Jonathan with friends in the village

A Baby, a Two Year Old +2 on a Motorcycle: Life in a Primitive Village: More Tales from the Mountaintops and Valleys Below

Here's a photo of how we 4 got around. This one is taken in Kathmandu soon after Jenny's birth. Bill built the back seat for Jonathan. You can see that helmet laws were not nonexistent, much less infant seats and protection, in a town with only one traffic light while we were there.

Here’s a word from my journal about Jonathan:

He is more active than any two year old we know. He’s creative and has an imagination that stupefies us. He perceives relationship and has quite good coordination and energetic daring. He can be terribly obnoxious or enchantingly charming. He loves games, but is not particularly interested in books yet. Dr. Seuss is his favorite though. He’s completely lovable.

And he still loved and cared for his sister!

The next season in the village continued eventful. The plane ride in our little Cessna was very bumpy. My journal says: "Jon and I prayed together before the plane took off. Then as soon as we were in the air Jon wanted to pray again--this time to ask Jesus to make the plane go down!"

Before we returned to the village we needed to have had a new roof put on the house. But it was not complete on our arrival. 

We had asked the Lord to hold the rain until the roof was on. The first night we slept under the stars. A 5 minute sprinkle dampened us in the middle of the night-but that was all. They finished the peak of the roof the next day around 7 p.m.. At 11 the most violent storm we’ve seen in a year began. It was deafening and scared Jon silly—but my how we praise Him. He told us, “I care. I care so very much for you.

I was learning lots about village life from the women in the village. I would sit out front of our house shelling oil nuts here with them. I learned why they wear Indian coins around their neck. All their savings are wrapped up in their jewelry. No banks here.

During this stay in the village, I came down with chickenpox, and a few weeks later so did both kids. Then Jonathan turned three and we had a party for him with the villagers. The next day I was bit by a poisonous spider. My journal says we thought it was a Black Widow and I had a severe reaction. God healed this within a day. I don't know why Jesus sometimes heals and sometimes withholds, but it is at Father's good pleasure. And I know He is good and loving.

Today I am having spine surgery on C1 and C2 so there won't be any new blog entries for awhile. I go into this surgery, the same as with all our medical needs of the past, in confidence of Him who called me and walks with me, side by Side. He does all things well.

Funny Baby! Jenny’s Arrival and Jonathan’s Response: Tales from the Mountaintops and Valleys Below

We named Jenny before we were married. When Bill and I first talked about marriage and family, we both thought that Jenny Lynn was a beautiful name for a girl. Even without ultrasounds back then, we felt that sure this was our girl and called her Jenny throughout the pregnancy. So it was no surprise that the first words out of Jonathan’s mouth when he met his new sister in the hospital were, “Funny baby! Funny Baby! Jenny come out of Mama’s tummy!”

From my journal: Nov 3, 1972: 

Jennifer Lynn Leal arrived on Wednesday, November 1st at 9:20, weighing 6 pounds and 11 ounces. She has a round face, black hair and a determined little jaw bone and flat nose ... and a very thankful mom and dad and delighted big brother and grandmother, for my mother had come for Jenny’s birth and to help afterwards. She was a real blessing in the hospital and at home.

For myself, the experience was strange. On the operating table, the anesthesiologist gave me ether, all the while telling me it was pure oxygen for the baby. Once they assumed I was put to sleep, they began procedures. The strange part was that I was totally awake and one eyelid was not fully closed and I could see and feel what was going on, but could not move or say anything--though I tried desperately. First the catheter went in, then they started preparing the stomach for cutting, while the anesthetist started to put a tube down my throat and cotton. At this point, I could no longer breathe, and asked the Lord to take me away from this scene. I surrendered myself up to death--or whatever His pleasure may have been. Then I remember no more. But death has never been more real, nor my acceptance of His Pleasure more definite: a strange but rewarding experience.

Jenny was not an easy-to-sleep baby like Jonathan was. He slept the night at one month, but she was colicky and slept very little, or so it seemed, until she was about two. It was during this time of little sleep that I learned the truth of John 15:4-5, that the only thing I needed to do is abide in Jesus. A man I knew long ago said that “It doesn't matter where you are or what you’re doing if you are with the Shepherd, abiding.” I was safe with Him.

Jenny was a big joy to our family and much loved by each of us. We loved to watch her faces and listen to her “talking” to us. From my journal when Jenny was six weeks old: “Jenny is now beginning to talk lots and lots. Strong as an ox, loves to stand. Hates to sleep. Charming and flirtatious. Yesterday Bill said, 'I’m sure glad you like them at this age.' Immediately Jenny looked at me, gave me several big smiles, nods and knowing glances, plus a few gurgles. All we could do was laugh. She seemed to understand it all. She’s a real sweetheart.”

Soon it was time to head back to the village, this time with two little ones. So three months after Jenny’s birth, we returned to our village home, with joy and gladness in our hearts. It turned out that Jenny was also our Tharu landlord’s wife’s name. And the Tharu people also had flat noses as did Jenny. So they said she had a Tharu name and nose and loved her!  She still cried at night, but we told the people she was singing and we all laughed! Father had again paved another way into the hearts of the people, first with Jonathan, now with Jenny.

And we soon began to see some healing flow deep in our lives and bodies. “Friday night Jon closed the bathroom door on his thumb and immediately it was red and swollen and black and blue. We prayed and within 5 minutes it was completely healed. To God be all Glory.”

John 15:4-5: Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.

Song: Oh, the deep, deep love of Jesus

O the deep, deep love of Jesus, vast, unmeasured, boundless, free!
Rolling as a mighty ocean in its fullness over me!
Underneath me, all around me, is the current of Thy love
Leading onward, leading homeward to Thy glorious rest above! 

O the deep, deep love of Jesus, spread His praise from shore to shore!
How He loveth, ever loveth, changeth never, nevermore!
How He watches o’er His loved ones, died to call them all His own;
How for them He intercedeth, watcheth o’er them from the throne! 

O the deep, deep love of Jesus, love of every love the best!
’Tis an ocean full of blessing, ’tis a haven giving rest!
O the deep, deep love of Jesus, ’tis a heaven of heavens to me;
And it lifts me up to glory, for it lifts me up to Thee!

Our Most Pressing Need Was More of God's Spirit: Tales from the Mountaintops and the Valleys' Below, #8

The pressing challenges never let up. The house we had in Kathmandu was at the bottom of a hill and always muddy during monsoon. Once, while pregnant with Jenny, I slipped off my motorcycle into the mud. I was bruised, but both our unborn Jenny and I were OK. That's when Bill knew we needed to move. God provided another house for us to rent, one with rooms out back for Kissan and his family. Kissan and his wife and young daughter returned from the village with us to spend the monsoon season in Kathmandu, helping us with the language.

There was also room for Kunti, a Nepali girl we came to love who had come to work for us. Kunti had had leprosy and was in remission and needed employment. She had come to put her trust in Jesus at Ananadban Leprosy Hosptial where she received treatment for three years: We were so grateful for her, for all God's good provision ... including celebrating His faithfulness to us on our 4th wedding anniversary: July, 1972. It's a bit amazing to us when we consider that all the stuff I've mentioned since Bill and I were married had happened in just 4 years.

BUT our most pressing need, that grew in intensity every day, was that we were out of our own resources and were pretty discouraged... learning we didn't have what it takes to live in such an underdeveloped country, missing many of the things we had depended on most of our lives. I began to fast and pray and met the Lord in His Word one afternoon during my quiet time, sitting on my bed. He came on me with power and gave me new hope and a new language to pray with. He took away the hurt and pain and gave me joy and a heart of praise, and He helped me to forgive and love those who had been unkind to me.

The change in me was obvious to Bill, though he told me not to tell anyone for two weeks, to see if it lasted. It did! I began to sing again and my heart was light and full of faith in the Architect and Builder of our earthly habitations. I even had more energy to keep up with Jonathan!

A few months later, Bill ended up in the hospital after a motorcycle accident in which the handle bars twisted and pressed against his knee and cracked it. In treatment, doctors took 30 cc. of blood from his knee. The next day they put him under anesthesia and checked the tendons, ligaments and muscles to be sure they were still connected. All was badly bruised, but OK except for a fracture. A cast was not advised but Bill had to avoid putting pressure on it. This meant he had to spend many days in bed and 6 weeks on crutches. But soon he learned how to mount his crutches on the side of his motorcycle and get around, learning to use only his good leg when stopped! It was during this time that Bill and Jesus also had a meeting in which Bill surrendered all he could, and Jesus empowered him with His Spirit too. Now we both had new prayer languages that we used in private. These have helped us pray for many people over the years--even when we don't know specifics of  exactly what we're praying for, God knows and pays attention.

Meanwhile Jonathan kept us busy and gave us much joy. When we were in Kathmandu he had many friends, including  Judith Kugler on the roof of our house in Kathmandu, and.Dawn Kotapish behind him on the motorcycle.

Faith, Mighty Faith: Language Analysis and Faithful Comrades: Tales from the Mountaintops and Valleys Below: #7

In the summer of 1972, Dr. Ken and Evie Pike came to Kathmandu for a workshop in linguistics. From the very beginning, Wycliffe understood the importance of formal language analysis as an essential part of making an accurate translation of the Scriptures. You may remember the linguistic training we received at the Norman summer school and that the Pikes were involved in that, as well as our wedding. That training continued on the field as Dr. Pike, tenured faculty at the University of Michigan and one of the original members of Wycliffe, came to help all the language teams in Nepal analyze the perplexities in our very different languages.

Because of this emphasis on linguistic analysis before and during Bible translation and literacy work, one of my jobs was to  analyze the phonology while Bill was working on the grammar. The Tharu phonology seemed very confusing and unpredictable. When you learn a language, you learn first how to pronounce a particular sound in a word or sentence. For instance, in the word "dogs," the s sounds like z because it comes after a voiced "d" consonant. Identifying and predicting sounds is what phonology does.

However, in Tharu there was a schwa, an "uh" sound, that seems to come and go randomly, and we didn't know when to use it and when not. Sometimes Kissan used it and sometimes he didn't--in the same sentence. Kissan was very patient with us and eventually we discovered that it helped predict an event in at the discourse level in the language. If that doesn't make sense, just know that it was that hard for us too--and we'd had 20 semester hours training in linguistics before arrival!

We had many people praying back "home" in the US. Without their daily prayers I'm not sure what would have become of us. It's one of the essential things every missionary must have--a good prayer support team. We heard from some who were praying for us at specific days and times, not knowing our needs, and yet later finding out how He miraculously met and cared for us in difficult times and situations at the exact time they were led to pray. The body of Christ is an amazing, powerful force of love and healing.

You also need to know that we were surrounded by the most amazing group of missionaries we have ever known. Soon Wycliffe/SIL in Nepal was working in 30 language groups in Nepal. This meant about 100 field members were needed to make things work. These were people we came to love and respect deeply. Here's a picture of our early days together. Bill and I are in the middle left, not standing together. Each of these people could write their own stories similar to those I've shared. Some have told of repeated, remarkable encounters and miracles. Below are links for books by Gary Shepherd and David Watters, if you'd like to read more; warmly recommended.

Angel Tracks in the Himalayas by Gary Shepherd
At the Foot of the Snows by David E. Watters