Faith at the Ends of the Earth

Stories of the faithfulness of isolated Christians in remote areas have always inspired and challenged me. Then one afternoon, after eight days of trekking in Nepal’s far western regions, I finally had an opportunity to meet such a believer. Kamal was described to me by other villagers as a great man, descended from a long line of Buddhist monks, who had become a Christian. I was excited to visit this brother in Christ who lived out his faith far from community, resources, or support.

The man I met did not look like a towering giant of the faith. Rather, he was a drunk hobbling on one leg around the dirty shop where he lives with his family of six. I was shocked and offended by his drunkenness. Yet when he looked at me and said, “Jamasi,” a simple greeting unique to Nepali Christians, the Lord replaced my disappointment and frustration with compassion for this brother so obviously in need of encouragement.

I spent the rest of the day with Kamal, listening to his story and watching him limp on his recently broken ankle. The walls of his simple home were covered with photos confirming his earlier life as a committed Christian: graduating from Bible school, ministering in a church, and baptising publicly. His Bible was highlighted, covered in written notes, and obviously well-loved. Later, as I looked from the images on the walls of the small room to Kamal’s current state – passed out on the front porch of the shop with his swollen and discoloured ankle covered in flies – my mind struggled to reconcile the two.

It was Kamal’s wife who eventually helped me to make sense of his story. After finishing Bible school more than ten years ago, he moved his family to this place to be a light in an area that had no Christians. He chose to locate his home and shop near a major bridge so that he could talk and share with the many travellers who pass by.

As a couple, Kamal and his wife had prayed, planned, stepped out in faith, and made what was perhaps the riskiest decision of all: they came alone. No other Christians lived within a day’s walk of their home. Many travellers stopped to talk at Kamal’s shop as they passed by, but none of them shared his faith and none were receptive to his message. Years without fellowship or encouragement left him isolated, depressed, and vulnerable to spiritual attack. When he broke his ankle falling from his roof, he turned to alcohol for relief.

Kamal’s wife has remained strong in her faith. Her husband is slipping deeper into depression, but their oldest son is becoming a godly man. He is considering studying at the same Bible school where his father attended. I pray that Kamal’s once-passionate faith, now smouldering beneath years of discouragement, will reignite as he watches his son carry on his dream of bringing hope to far west Nepal.

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