The Jungle Has Its Own Beliefs
Writing updates about our life in the jungle can feel daunting—translating a third-world reality for a first-world audience. We’ve been back in the bush for three months now, and we grapple daily with our limitations in the face of the Kuyu’s deeply rooted animistic beliefs. Life here is both full and mundane, often heavy, and filled with paradoxes.
In the past few months, we’ve observed womanhood initiation ceremonies, childbirth, death, frog hunts, community atonements and sacrifices, and continued growth in our relationships with the Kuyu as we dive deeper into their language and worldview.
As a team, we are currently immersed in finishing our study of the Kuyu language and culture, as well as in discourse analysis—a process of transcribing and examining Kuyu speech to learn how to communicate effectively across various speech genres. We are also completing a cultural report that summarizes the many facets of Kuyu life—child-rearing, honor and shame, hunting, gardening, and more. This document is essentially a summary of what makes the Kuyu, Kuyu. We’ve been gathering stories, translating interviews, and synthesizing them to understand not only what the Kuyu believe, but why they live the way they do. We pray these steps will allow us to speak into their worldview with clarity and compassion.
As we dig deeper into Kuyu culture, we’ve had front-row seats to both joy and sorrow. A couple of weeks ago, our friends Kosmas and his wife Kati gave birth to twins; however, she was unaware she was carrying two babies, as there’s no such thing as prenatal care out here. The first child was small and born breech, yet miraculously survived. The second little girl was stillborn. There’s a deep ache that comes from watching suffering that is both tragic and preventable. Leading up to her delivery, it was painful to watch the entire community come together, share dreams, and try to figure out the reason Kati was experiencing pain. We long for the day we can bring words of comfort—that this brokenness isn’t their fault, but the result of a fallen world.
Our conversations have gone even deeper as we’ve explored the Kuyu creation story. Their origin beliefs are intricate, symbolic, and deeply spiritual—beginning with a single, androgynous creator god. From this god came a union that birthed all of creation, with the elements of their body forming rivers, oceans, and the first humans—a set of seven brothers. The Kuyu believe they are descendants of the firstborn (who received all the hunting skills), while we Westerners descend from the seventh brother (who received special knowledge from the creator god to build airplanes, computers, etc.). They believe we are their reincarnated ancestors who have returned with white skin and possess the secrets to obtaining cargo. You can see why they might be eager to hear “God’s talk” if it means gaining access to this kind of power and knowledge. A simple visit, for us, might be just a friendly chat; for them, it’s a chance to gain spiritual power and insight. Some even offer gifts—like pigs—hoping to draw out secrets to improve their marriages, crops, or health. While this belief is frustrating to untangle, we’re learning that it’s only through the full story of the Bible that the Holy Spirit can begin to work in their hearts.
One thing the Lord pressed upon me during our time back in America was to simply stay close to the Father. There were so many aspects of our situation—especially what the Lord had our family walk through in the tribe—that didn’t make sense. Quite honestly, I was angry. I spent months being upset with the Lord—confused, hurt, and struggling to know how to pray. I wanted my suffering to count for something—to be redeemed, or at least to come out the other side with a great story to tell. Well, the Lord is incredibly faithful. And while there isn’t space here to share all the ways He used such a painful season to refine us, strengthen our marriage, and increase our faith, the core lesson remains: stay close to the Father.
Unfortunately, my health has slowly begun to decline again, with most of my symptoms returning to some degree. While nothing feels debilitating at this point, much of my energy goes toward simply managing symptoms and caring for my family. We anticipated this would likely happen, but it’s still been discouraging and humbling to trust that God is working all things for our good and His glory—a glory that often grows through seeds of difficulty. We’re leaning into the grace He provides each day, trusting Him to sustain our family, and hoping the next round of bloodwork in July will offer more clarity. In spite of discouragement, I take heart knowing that the Lord only asks me to continue abiding in Him and to trust Him with the fruit. We would appreciate your prayers for sustained health, perseverance in this work, and wisdom to discern.
So What’s Next?
The back half of 2025 will be filled with consultant visits and workshops—each one getting us closer to the end goal of sharing God’s story.
August: Language consultants will fly into Kuyu to conduct our team’s next round of language evaluations. For our coworkers Jacob and Jonathan, they will be officially checked out of culture and language study —a milestone not without literal blood, sweat, and tears.
September: Literacy consultants will join us for a couple of weeks to help build our Kuyu literacy curriculum—developing flashcards, primers, and teacher guides. These are exciting steps toward teaching the Kuyu to read and write in their own language!
October: Every October, church planters from various bush locations gather at headquarters for fellowship, rest, refreshment, and ministry updates. We’re especially excited this year to welcome one of our supporting churches from Illinois, who will be hosting the conference in Papua New Guinea!
December: We’ll fly out of the tribe to attend a two-week translation workshop with several other teams—our final training before launching into translation. If all goes well, we hope to begin teaching the first Kuyu people to read and write early in the new year.
Thank you to those of you who faithfully pray, encourage, support, and walk alongside us on this journey. Some days, we find ourselves marveling that this is our life—that we get to be here. Other days, the weight of sickness, death, and spiritual darkness feels unbearably heavy. It’s hard to describe the tension of so many colliding emotions—the joy and privilege of meaningful work, alongside our ever-present frailty and sense of “not-enoughness.”
We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we ourselves are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves. We are pressed on every side by troubles, but we are not crushed. We are perplexed, but not driven to despair. We are hunted down, but never abandoned by God. We get knocked down, but we are not destroyed. Through suffering, our bodies continue to share in the death of Jesus so that the life of Jesus may also be seen in our bodies.
(2 Corinthians 4:7–10)