He sat down in front of MPFC founder Sheri Postma and told her his name: Habakkuk.

On our recent medical outreach to an island community off the east coast of Africa, his story became one our team couldn’t stop talking about on the flight home.

Our team had been in the third village for a few hours. Patients were backed up in line, waiting to be seen by our providers, and MPFC founder Sheri Postma was doing triage — checking blood pressure, asking basic health questions — while people sat and waited their turn. She had a translator with her, a woman who had once been Muslim herself before coming to faith in Christ.

“We have more time now while these people are sitting in front of us to talk to them,” Sheri said to her translator. “Nobody can hear what we’re talking about. We can ask about their situations. We can ask if we can pray for them. We can share about Jesus.”

The translator hesitated. It’s not a small thing, in a place where sharing the gospel openly isn’t legally possible. But she agreed.

Habakkuk was the next person who sat down in front of them. He told them he’d given his life to Christ four and a half months earlier, after a local pastor shared the gospel with him. He’d been a believer for months at that point, quietly, in a place where that kind of decision can cost you relationships and safety. What he hadn’t done yet was get baptized.

“Have you been baptized?” Sheri asked him.

“No.”

“Do you want to be?”

“Yes.”

It turned out our team had been praying for exactly this – that God would give an opportunity for baptisms on this trip, since the village sat right on the ocean. That afternoon, word had spread. Fifteen believers showed up, ready to go down to the water. In the end, only five felt safe enough to go through with it. The other ten stayed back, and nobody blamed them for it — the risk was real, and everyone there understood what it meant to be seen.

Habakkuk was one of the five. A missionary who works in the area went with them to witness it, while the rest of our team stayed back so a crowd of foreigners standing on the beach wouldn’t draw the wrong kind of attention.

“Working in a predominantly Islamic country is extremely challenging — but I saw the joy of sharing Christ influence the translators, and I’m hopeful the new believers grow into lasting faith.” — Alisha, PA

In July 2026, our team of 15 women gathered together from all over the USA to travel to a closed island nation off the East Coast of Africa, The goal was simple: share the love of Jesus through providing medical care to underserved communities and allowing the Holy Spirit to guide us to those waiting to hear the good news of the Cross.

As usual, the Lord did not disappoint.

Thank you to Nona, Tammy, Jacki, Sophia, Rosemary, Alex, Kimberly, Robbie, Sheila, Keisha, Brenda, Kelly, Jennifer, and Alisha for joining us in East Africa!

praying over the young man that changed his name to Habbakuk

Praying over Habbakuk

Prayers on the beach

Other Moments We Won’t Forget

Habakkuk’s story wasn’t the only one that our team brought home with us.

In the second village, one of our team members, Alex, prayed over a six-year-old girl who hadn’t been able to walk, after which this precious child stood up and started walking.

In the same village where we met Habakkuk, a two-month-old baby was struggling to breathe. One of our team members prayed over her, and her breathing returned to normal immediately.

A woman who came through with severe leg pain was prayed for by one of the missionaries working alongside us, and the pain left her on the spot.

We share these carefully and without embellishment, because we were there and we watched them happen.

We also saw new friendships blossom between team members and existing friendships deepen. Something very special happens when sisters in Christ gather for ministry; God honors that kind of commitment and blesses those relationships.

All of these memories, and more, will be treasured in each of our hearts for the rest of our lives.

Keisha and Jen

Rosemary, Jacki, and Brenda

What Only A Few Days Can Do

We don’t talk a lot on this blog about the mechanics of what it takes to do gospel work in a closed country, because most of the details aren’t ours to share. But here’s what we can say: in four days, across four villages, 1,224 people came through our clinics for medical care. Three hundred of them sat down one-on-one with someone on our team, heard the gospel, and were prayed for. Eighteen gave their lives to Christ. Five were baptized.

Keisha demonstrating how to use an inhaler

One of the missionaries we serve alongside told us afterward that our team accomplished more in one week than they’d been able to in three years on their own.

That’s not a compliment to us, but rather a description of what happens when God opens a door that’s normally closed. The relationships that help that door open are built by people who live there year-round, who show up long after our team has flown home, who carry the risk of living their faith out loud. We’re grateful for the chance to walk through it alongside them, briefly.

What Stays After We Leave

Before our team left, we gave a small gift to the local believers who had served alongside us all week — a copy of 40 Verses to Ignite Your Faith by Laurie Polich Short, something to hold onto after the visitors go home and the ordinary, harder work of following Jesus in a place that doesn’t make it easy resumes.

We think about that a lot when a trip like this ends. The medicine runs out. The team flies home. But Habakkuk is still there. So are the four others who stood in the water with him, and the ten who wanted to but weren’t ready yet, and the believers who’d been meeting quietly, fasting and praying together, long before our team ever arrived.

Please keep praying for them – for their safety, for their perseverance, and for the ones who are still deciding whether the risk is worth it. It already has been, for at least one man who calls himself Habakkuk now.