Called to Gobi

by D. I. Telbat

  "American," I said. "How'd you know I wasn't Russian?"

  "Ah. I must admit, I saw the patch on your backpack. It is in English, no?"

  "It is. You have a good eye."

  "I'm Russian-Kazakh," Zima finally said.

  "My brother-in-law is half-Russian. He lives . . . there!" He pointed at a group of four gers with a flock of sheep and dogs nearby. "Everyone will want to speak to you both, but I will be first, yes?"

  "Of course." I glanced at Zima. She shrugged her approval. "Will you be continuing south?"

  "Yes, to the edge of the Gobi, I fear," the man said with a frown. "Other clans press us from the east, and we must move into other ranges now as well. All around the Hangayn Mountains, there is development. It's sad to see the old ways pass away. We run, but they follow."

  He led us into the ger, and others crowded around to sit with us on the soft beds. The children—all of them belonging to Lugsalkhaan—touched Zima's arm brace in curiosity.

  "Do you know the clansmen we will live near this winter?" he asked me. "We wish to keep peace if possible. Since we are the largest clan in this region, we may make the winter easier for others. But before we continue, spare me the embarrassment of calling you ‘American.' What are your names?"

  "I'm Andy, and this is Zima."

  "You are man and wife?"

  "No, only . . ." I said, pausing. What were we? "We're close friends right now."

  "Ah, I see," Lugsalkhaan stated skeptically. His knowing eyes had surely noticed how Zima's right hand was never far from my left. "And the clans?"

  "I'm recently from America, still learning your ways, but Zima has lived here for many years."

  "Many of the clans are small," Zima said. "There are more in the mountain valleys to the west and even into Xinjiang Uygur Province, but you won't be going that far west, will you?"

  "No, no. The farthest we'll hunt is to the mountains to the southwest. I'm not excited about grazing my stock off sha-mo's thin grass and thorns, but graze land will be difficult for everyone this winter. The weather experts from Ulaanbaatar say it will be a difficult season."

  Since I didn't know otherwise, I only nodded. His use of the Chinese word "sha-mo" I knew referred to the Gobi as the sand desert, which told me that the clan wasn't as isolated traditionally as I'd first thought. The fact that his brother-in-law was half-Russian spoke volumes as well. The Russians had oppressed the Kazakhs in time past, especially during the Bolshevik era.

  "Tell me, Andy, the war. What do you know?"

  When I took a breath, many leaned forward to hear my words.

  "I know it's just the beginning. What has happened in America—though it has impacted America greatly—will escalate to great wars around the world. The millions who have died in America will be followed by many more in Asia, Europe, and Africa."

  "It's God's judgement," Zima said. "Paul told us this would all happen, didn't he, Andy?"

  Her openness to share the Gospel shocked me for a moment. Of course, she was right to speak so openly! As a child of God, she was led by the Holy Spirit, even if she didn't understand everything. She had a hunger to learn and share that I couldn't and shouldn't hinder.

  "Who is this Paul?" Lugsalkhaan asked for everyone. "He's an official?"

  Zima nudged me to expound. All eyes were on me.

  "He wrote of many things to come in the Last Days before mankind is to be judged as individuals before God Almighty. Only those who accept His gift of life will be spared. Some writings were penned by Paul, and many others—Daniel, Isaiah, John, and Jeremiah—penned truths as well. Most of all, Jesus, the Son of God, fulfills all truth."

  "It's all in the Bible," Zima added. She wasn't often such a focal-point of attention. Here, she was regarded as an equal. "The Bible is more profound and truer than the texts we have from India and Tibet—which aren't even complete. The Dalai Lama may have been enlightened by men's standards, but Jesus was truly God Himself."

  Again, she looked to me to complete her words. We were like a spontaneous relay team. If Lugsalkhaan had heard of the Bible, he gave no contrary indication. They were all listening intently. Very rarely did outsiders come to bring them news of the outside.

  "Yes, it's true. The Bible explains the origin of man as well as God's wisdom to man. He is the One and Only God who possesses wisdom and knowledge from eternity past, long before Buddha himself walked the earth."

  "Like you," Zima said with empathy, "I was raised to learn and practice Lamaism. But when I took time to study the Bible and its complete text, I understood the world better. I became one with the Creator through belief that His hand guides all things by love and justice. And in here," she placed her hand over her heart, "I'm a better person, free from the judgement that will soon come on all people. If a bomb lost its way today and landed right here instead of in Urumqu because of a war with America, I know in my heart that I'll immediately be with my great God and Savior who loves me.

  "We won't be reborn as animals, my new friends, or as other people. That is an old belief from men's minds when they tried to grasp understanding of the afterlife. The truth is we will be judged for the good and bad that we do." She pointed to a young boy on the floor at our feet. "When you fight with your sister, you know it's wrong. That feeling of knowing wrong—where does it come from? God made us to know right and wrong. Pond, tell them the true story of the beginning of the world and languages!"

  Her enthusiasm was contagious and not merely to the young minds present. Several men and women stood at the door listening to our words with great interest.

  I began to tell the story, my hands motioning wildly and excitedly as I spoke. Zima's memory of Genesis and our talks were like crystal cutting through stone as she added details and more graphic vocabulary where appropriate. At one point in the middle of the origin of the rainbow, several clanswomen brought us meat and bread on plates, but hardly anyone noticed. They were too spellbound by the story of the righteous few delivered from a flood. While I ate, Zima spoke, and I was in awe at the way we were being used as true mouthpieces for God that night.

  Here were answers to prayer. Here were people whose hearts had been prepared for our words of hope long before we ever arrived. Here were people hungry for something beyond their ancient traditionalism. It was late into the night when I concluded at the end of the dispersion of people at Nimrod's tower.

  "The lesson being," I said, "that even when many people get together to do great things to lift up their own names, they will only be humbled as God corrects their proud hearts. We should live our lives for God, assuming every day may be our last, lest we are punished as the nations are beginning to be punished right now for their godless ways—punished by the ugliness of war and death."

  The youngest children were tugged from our midst by their mothers as Lugsalkhaan clarified several points about creation and how sin entered the world. He was an observant man—so much so that he asked questions he seemed to understand himself, but he wanted the other men and women present to see the finer points as well. On that first night, I believe many in that ger listened for mere entertainment, out of interest or even politeness. But some listened because they needed to. And the seeds of truth were planted.

  "I never want to leave these people!" Zima whispered to me as Lugsalkhaan discussed with his people where Zima and I would sleep while we were with them. "I feel alive around them, Pond. They deserve to know the truth. I don't want to go back to Gan-gaad!"

  *~*

  Chapter 16

  That first night with the large clan, Zima slept in a ger with several of the unattended wives and, quite literally, concubines, while I slept in Lugsalkhaan's ger with his latest wife and children. Adultery was rampant throughout all the clans, and I prayed for wisdom in dealing with such ungodly customs.

  As I lay on my dog-hair mattress on the wood-framed bed, I should've fallen asleep in an instant, yet I felt the pressures of the age crashing down around me. I felt the strongest temptati
on to just enjoy the time I had remaining in this world, to relax and let my guard down—to be comfortable. None too successfully, I fought these thoughts until I finally rose and exited the spacious ger.

  Outside, I was greeted by one of the dogs they'd called Lucky Hunter. The dogs were the only tame animals in a clan that were given a name, as if they were part of the family. Lucky Hunter sniffed me warily, then wandered away to lie down. The other two dogs had herded the sheep in close to camp for the night and were curled up near their feed plates. Since I'd already undergone their inspection, I passed the other two without receiving much regard. I pulled my coat tightly around me and sat down on the edge of a low hill overlooking the wealth of the clan. For these people, not much had changed since the days of Abraham. Wealth was measured by livestock. They made their clothing, their gers, their food, even their socks, by hand.

  Many in the civilized world believed there would be less sin if there was less technology, or less exposure to sin. But sin lives in the heart of the lost. Without God, even the peaceful Tibetan Buddhists practiced immorality that was quite shocking when compared to biblical marriage principles. Reforming the Mongolians wasn't my primary objective, though. My goal was to see them saved from sin and eternal death.

  Marriage. Paul's words to the Corinthian church came to my mind. How could I think of marriage at a time like this? The Tribulation years were on the horizon . . . The world was beginning to experience signs of things to come . . . And the Rapture was ever closer . . .

  Zima was an amazing woman. And what a mind! If it weren't for her, I would've spent the night talking about America and warming up to the clan. Yet Zima hadn't hesitated to jump in with both feet and talk of nothing but God's original dealings with men!

  She didn't want to go back to Gan-gaad. I could understand that, but she had to leave his clan with his blessing, or Luyant's blessing in the least. But as I was still reeling from that thought, Matthew chapter twenty-eight hit my conscience like a brick. "Go therefore and make disciples." Though the passage continued, there were only those five words for me that night. It was as if God were trying to make it simpler for me since I was making it difficult for myself. "Just go . . . and make!" My problem wasn't to solve every moral dilemma in the country. No, my job was to make disciples, share the Word, and plant the seed. God would work out the rest.

  All my worries vanished as I gave them away to be burdened by the Lord's broad shoulders. I was so preoccupied with praising Him for His help that I didn't notice the chubby little man ascending the hill from the camp until he was standing next to me. Hastily, I climbed to my feet. The chubby man reminded me more of a giant ball than a man, but it may have been partly from all the layers of clothing he wore that cold night. Standing, I offered my hand.

  "Hello. I don't think we've met. I'm Andy."

  He gripped my hand roughly and pumped it so hard my shoulder nearly dislocated. There was power under all that fat! On his head he wore a snow leopard hat, though yellowed from years of use.

  "Duulgii!" he declared. I knew from his features that he was probably Lugsalkhaan's half-Russian brother-in-law. He nodded at the stars. "I see I'm not the only one who seeks wisdom from the sky."

  "I seek wisdom from the Maker of the sky," I said. "It's a beautiful night."

  "In Semey, my home in Kazakhstan, I know Christians, but you aren't like them," he said. "You have no candles and you don't ask for money." He laughed heartily. "I think that makes you a good man."

  "When I came here from Turkey," I said, after smiling at his joke, "I flew over Kazakhstan in a plane. But it was nighttime. I regret not seeing the country in the daytime."

  "You missed very little, Andy." He grunted. "I have traded one lonely country for another—except there is pride here. You know of the touman?"

  "Genghis Khan's forces? Yes, I've read of them."

  "Formations of ten thousand horsemen in each wave, Andy. Imagine such soldiers riding across this plain. They conquered everyone—the whole world—from Korea to Germany. Ah! In my next life, perhaps I will be born a true Mongol!"

  We stood together for a while. One of the dogs, Lion, trotted around Lugsalkhaan's flocks, separating them from another clansman's.

  "I think he counts them," Duulgii joked nodding at Lion. "He doesn't have much of a nose for hunting, but he knows his sheep. You have no dogs?"

  "No. Someday I may buy one, though."

  "One of my dogs will have pups any day. There are three others before you, but you may have fourth choice."

  "That's gracious of you, but I may not be ready to raise a Manchurian."

  "But mine aren't Manchurians. They are sure to be Mongolian Mastiffs, the largest of the mastiff breeds. Do you have any stock?"

  "A small number."

  "Then it's settled. You will have a dog. My gift to you to make your herding days easier."

  "Thank you, Duulgii, but I don't have anything to trade of equal value."

  "Bah! It is a gift, Andy! Only . . . you will have to stay with the clan until the birth and weaning. That is the charge of the pup, perhaps, and the stories you tell, yes?"

  "Yes," I said with a chuckle. "I do have more stories."

  "Good. The children love the stories. I missed them tonight, but my wife told me some. I won't miss them tomorrow night. Can you tell them at my camp?"

  "If Lugsalkhaan approves. I'm his guest."

  "He's not a selfish man. I'll ask him. Do you know any stories about soldiers? I want to hear stories about soldiers."

  "Oh, yes," I said, "some of the best soldier stories ever told. Great battles and strategies."

  "I want to hear those. Of course, the characters won't be as mighty as Mongol soldiers. And dog stories. Do you have any of those?"

  "Dogs? Hmmm. I'm afraid I don't know any specific dog stories, though some of the people I'll tell you about had dogs to watch their flocks as you do, as they did thousands of years ago."

  "Yes, a dog has such wisdom—but not all of them. You must choose your mastiff carefully, Andy, and that won't be easy since you have fourth pick of the litter. Always consult with a monk if you are able, before you choose. I already know it is a favorable year, but there is the day and hour to bring the puppy into your ger that must be considered as well. But you don't believe in such superstitions, do you?"

  "No, but I'm sure there are other ways to choose a good puppy."

  "Of course. You pick it up by the tail or leg. If it arches its back and doesn't cry, it will be a good, strong dog. The last born is the best preference, but you won't get that one. A heart-shaped spot on its chest is a sign of bravery and loyalty. Red in the eyes means the dog will fight enemies even when outnumbered. White spots near the claws could mean wealth, but white on the tail or feet means it will be lazy and steal food. But those are more superstitions. Even I know that. Just look for short, soft hair, flexible skin, a wide chest, and a small back. That's all you must do."

  "That's good advice." I nodded.

  "And when you bring it home, you whisper its name into its ear. They never forget them after that. You could be poor with no flocks to herd, and the Khaan himself could pass by, but your dog won't leave you for another."

  Duulgii eventually asked about my childhood in America, and I was able to share my testimony with him, of the life of bondage God had saved me from through the gift of Jesus. We talked until sunup, and I knew I would regret it later that day, but we enjoyed ourselves.

  The large Kazakh clan wasn't in such a hurry to leave as Gan-gaad was every morning. This clan had more to pack and larger herds to move. It was nearly an hour before we departed after a horn was blown. Zima and I moved among them, assisting where we were needed. Almost naturally, we waited behind as the great caravan started to the southeast. Smiling at one another, we sat down on the grass still wet from morning dew. She opened her new Bible, one of the five I'd picked up in Hasagt, and I opened one of the others, my original somewhere to the south with Dusbhan. We read and prayed to
gether, and talked about the Holy Spirit's effectiveness the night before. Already, we anticipated the coming evening's story time.

  Once we were back on our horses, we planned which stories we'd tell that night in Duulgii's camp.

  "Since I'm Russian and Duulgii is Russian," Zima said, "he told me he and I should marry, but I told him you and I have hearts for one another, so he left me alone."

  Riding beside me, she watched my reaction carefully until I could stand it no longer and I burst out laughing.

  "What's funny, Pond?" She pouted. "It's not true? Don't you love me?"

  "This is one of the things I was praying about last night," I said. "It seems we'd best find an adequate minister after we discuss the matter with Luyant."

  "Do we have to?"

  "Zima, you know we do. You're still in his care, and I must offer an acceptable dowry on top of any blessing he gives you to leave the clan."

  "I never imagined I would marry." She beamed and sighed. "We'll need our own ger and flocks. Do you have money for all of this?"

  "Yes, I believe so."

  "And we can live with the Kazakhs afterward?"

  "That's something we need to ask God about," I said. "As my wife, you'll be under my protection, so there'll be no need to fear Gan-gaad if we should live with his clan again. We need to go where God leads us, not necessarily where we're most comfortable. The best place to be is in God's will."

  "Yes, you're right," she said with another sigh, then grinned broadly. "But I will be your wife and you will be my husband!"

  "It's starting to look that way," I said with a chuckle.

  "We'll be happy together, won't we, Pond? Until Jesus comes?"

  I gazed into the sky. What a day that will be! But at that instant, far to the south, I saw a small formation of Chinese fighter jets. They were on a northwesterly heading. However, as dreadful as their presence might've been, I felt a strange calm—that peace that passes all understanding.

  "Yes, Zima, we'll be happy together."

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