2025 Field Guide: Jentuberi

The morning sun warmed the hills as families from a neighboring Jentuberi village gathered with shovels in hand. A truck had arrived carrying thousands of seedlings—tiny green promises of future harvests. More than a hundred villagers rolled up their sleeves, dug into the stubborn earth, and began planting side by side. Among them worked a young teammate from a nearby agricultural business, quietly honored by the invitation to join.

This was more than a planting day. It was a sign of trust—earned slowly through presence, patience, and shared labor. In these remote Southeast Asian hills, where the Jentuberi people have long lived in rhythms tied to land and spirit, such trust is no small thing. It is the fruit of years spent listening more than speaking, of showing up even when floods destroy equipment and plans unravel. It is the kind of trust that grows when people know you won’t leave.

Life here is beautiful and hard. Villages cling to steep hillsides. Hands work tirelessly to coax life from the soil. But beneath the surface lies a quiet weight—an unseen world that must constantly be appeased. Illness, failed crops, or even a restless baby are rarely chalked up to chance. Every misfortune is a sign: something has gone wrong with the spirits.

One mother, exhausted from nights of her daughter’s crying, called a village shaman. A visiting mission worker watched as the shaman whispered over a bundle of sticks, tapped them on the child’s chest, and declared the house spirit displeased. The remedy? A chicken. Fermented rice wine. A ceremonial meal. A full day’s wages. “I don’t know what I did,” the mother said. “But at least now I know what it takes.”

This is the world the Jentuberi team inhabits—a spiritual landscape shaped by fear and constant effort to stay in balance. Yet, in the shadow of this system, something new is quietly taking root.

The small team—two young families—has come to learn, to help, to befriend. Their agricultural business has become both a livelihood and a connection point with the community, establishing them amidst the everyday lives of the Jentuberi. When disaster struck and a flood damaged their facility, they didn’t leave; they rebuilt. And the community noticed.

Now in Stage 3 of their work, the team is focused on learning the Jentuberi minority language, so they can communicate with precision. When the time comes to share the story of Jesus, it will be in words that carry weight in the hearts of those who hear.

There are no churches here, no known Jentuberi believers, and no Scripture in their language. Day by day, seeds are planted through relationships, like the seedlings planted in that village soil. As they continue to sow faithfully, these workers among the Jentuberi place their patient trust in the God who makes things grow.