Goodbye Africa

HEADING BACK HOME TO KENYA from Tanzania, a large truck had wrecked, totally blocking the road. A large crowd of very scary people, Masai, had gathered. They looked more dangerous and wild than the others we had seen. The bus driver just hit the ditch, spun, backed up, over and over again, before getting around this. It looked like an impossible thing to do, but even I knew this would not be a good place to stop. When we hit the pavement, I yelled, "Let's hear it for THE MAN!" He got a big hand. He liked that.

     An older man and woman were on that bus. They looked like they had been out in the bush for a very long time. I sat down beside them, and started a conversation. I just had to know their story.

     They were missionaries from Oregon. They came to Moshe regularly, and stay a few months at a time. They daily travel in a 4 wheel drive jeep to remote Masai villages, and minister to them. Their last trip to Africa, they went to a village where the children of the chief were sick. The witch doctor was not able to help them.

     The chief called on the missionaries to heal the children. They doctored them, to the best of their ability, and prayed. When they returned to that village on this trip, the children were well. The chief gave them, and God, all the credit. Along with that, he gave them a large plot of land. They were returning to America to start raising funds to build a hospital and a church on that land.

     He said they had gotten malaria often, but they take a shot and go on. Their African guide and interpreter is also their African connection, and travels with them.

     We have all heard stories of brave and dedicated  African missionaries. The African bush is full of many more we have not heard of. Many self sacrificing men and women, from many countries, are fulfilling the Great Commission. These people, and the seven missionaries at Rafiki, and Deb, are just a few. They are bypassing the comforts of home, family, and security, and giving their lives to this work. It is an honor for a pretend missionary, such as myself, to be able to know and work alongside these people, if only for a short time. We knew Yeen Lan was grooming us, hoping we would become full time missionaries. But no, we had family at home, and were not ready for that.

      When we got to the border, things were just as conjested as before. Barbara picked the visa line she wanted, because it was manned by a guy who seemed relatively friendly,  and occasionally smiled. When we got up to his desk, Barbara poured it on. Smiling, laughing, telling all about us being missionaries, and on and on. She passed the old visa over to him. He was totally won over, and stamped our old visa, not valid now, and smiling, said, "You have a great day." We thanked him, and got gone quickly.

     It was time to go home.    

     We came to Nairobi just after the President agreed to sign a power sharing agreement with the opposition. It appeared the intertribal killing was over. It was not, but it has lessened. While we were preparing to leave, the opposition seemed to be beginning to think he didn't really mean it. (Whites were not yet being killed, but then, it would be very hard to find a white person in Kenya during this time.) Thus the killing was about to return with a vengence. Perhaps we chose a wise time to come, and perhaps we are choosing an even wiser time to go home. Africa has a way of getting into one's heart, making one always want to return. Most likely, we will never see our wonderful kids again. They are near college age now. Then again, maybe we will see them again. Either way, they will be in our hearts forever.

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     My new book, the story of Tooter, is still available at The Yell County Record office at Danville, Emerson’s County Store in Rover, Gypsy Junktion in Plainview, Hardman Interiors in Arkadelphia, or at amazon.com. My other books, Spreading Wing and Forever Cry are available also. Thanks for reading!