As I write this, it might be a few hours or a couple of days before it gets posted (no internet at the moment). We have finished our mission in Zimbabwe. I will have a more detailed report of the three dedications we participated in soon. This report is about the care God has had for us on our next-to-last day here is Zimbabwe.
A bit of back story is necessary. The clinic we dedicated in Rushangarumwe had a very bad road. The last 29 km, about 18 miles, was very bad, with deep washouts and ruts. There were five bridges to cross, each with a steep incline down to it and a steep incline out. Along with those obstacles, there were some rather deep puddles, we called the pools.
So last Thursday, we made our way to the clinic from our home base in Chiredzi for Friday’s dedication. We had some things to prepare for the ceremony. The short 90-mile trip took us two and a half hours, an hour of which was the last 18. The day before our trip, it started to rain and continued until Saturday afternoon. Not a heavy rain, mostly a drizzle, which created lots of slick, slimy mud. We made Thursday’s trip fine with a few adventures. The plan was to stay put until Sunday after church and return to Chiredzi. However, plans in Zimbabwe are simple the point from which deviations are to begin.
Saturday, I was ready for a day off, but no such luck. We were putting the pump in the new well (called a borehole here) and needed more pipe to connect the clinic, school, and church. So I was on another trip down the road and back. Not quite as muddy, but the ruts were a bit harder. Another 29 miles, another two hours, for my day. Bump, crunch, bounce, and grind.
Sunday, after church, it was time to return to Chiredzi. So down the road again, one way this time. It was much drier, but still lots of ruts, puddles, and rocks. Monday, we headed to Harare to catch flights on Tuesday to go home. As I drove down the road, I heard all kinds of odd sounds and worried about the suspension because of the trips. We stopped at a place where some of our friends were, and they assured me that all was OK.
We made our way toward Harare, taking a very nice road, doing at times 120 km/h, 70ish. We made good time, and the road was smooth and the ride nice, except for an occasional drift to the right. After three hours, we approached a toll booth just outside Harare, and I began to slow to pass through. As I moved forward, there was an obvious wobble and sway. For most of the trip, I was worried because of the rough roads to Rushangarumwe. Was something up front broken? But it never occurred to me that the problem might be in the backend. As I moved out of the booth, the wobble was pronounced. I got maybe 100 meters when things came to a stop. I tried to move forward and looked in the mirror. My back wheel was sitting next to the truck. I got out and surveyed the damage. All six lugs were broken off. We were dead in the water.
I made a couple of phone calls and found help. The principal of the college contacted a preacher five minutes from us. He took me deep into the shops to find new lugs and lug nuts. He also found a mechanic to come do the work. It was not super easy, but we got things fixed and after goodbyes, a photo, and payment for services rendered, we headed down the road. We arrived safe and sound at the college around 8:30.
As I reflected on the incident, the problem happened at the best possible place. If it had come off while we were traveling 70 mph, it would have been bad, maybe deadly. If it had happened deeper into Harare, help would not have been as close or readily available. One of the themes of this whole trip has been the song, “Shelter.” I have felt God’s protection and care so many times. Several got stuck on Friday, going to the tar. I didn’t even get my shoes dirty. Carrying four roles of plastic pipe, three in the bed and one strapped to the top of my canopy, was not an issue. And Monday, in the right place at a time when people could help, I saw the hand of God. He was our shelter and our protector. The song comes from Psalm 91 and I invite you to check it out. The link is above.
I am finishing this in the airport, preparing to fly home. And at the same time I feel like I am leaving home as well. We leave behind friends as close as family. Churches that love Jesus and are seeking the lost in their communities. We leave behind a new clinic and a dedicated church, and a mothers’ village for expectant mothers. We have traveled many miles, kilometers here, and visited the game park. Apart from the clinic we worked on, we are headed to the same things in the US. Esther Burris once told Sherry that missionaries have two hearts, two loves. We know that feeling. So we are excited to go home and see family and friends. And we say goodbye with sadness to family and friends. Thank you, Zimbabwe, and the Church of Christ here, for taking good care of us. And most of all, we praise our God, our shelter, for the call on our lives to be a part of this work.