My Ted and I watched from our Safaril land rover as 1.7 million wildebeests and zebras milled around on Kenya, East Africa's plains. All around us other land rovers carried the world's most famous television crews with their cameras set to roll. A short distance in front of us the Maasai Mara river's dark waters waited. Twenty-foot crocodiles, feigning sleep stretched along its banks. An hour, then two hours we waited as the adult beests milled around and the young ones danced and pranced in anticipation. 'They are deciding", our driver explained. "The old ones remember. The young ones do not". Finally, a huge wildebeest made his way to the edge of the river, hesitated, then plunged headlong into the murky water. On the other shore, the crocs, with lightning speed were on the move. They submerged, only their eyes showing, and then, the water boiled as one came up with a frantic wildebeest in his jaws. He thrashed the poor animal back and forth, then held him under until there was no life left in him. Soon a zebra met the same fate, and then another beest and another zebra. The herd became frenzied but did not turn back. One by one they crashed into the now roiling water of the river, the memory of the rich grass of the Tanzanian Serengeti luring them forward. There they would feast, bear their young, then return to the plains of Kenya. Ever restless. Following the rain. The river turned red with the blood of a dozen or so animals. Still, they came. The largest animal migration in the world, the Great Maasai Mara Migration was in progress. Finally it was over. We returned to the Safari camp, not having much of an appetite for the sumptuous dinner served us. Later in the evening tall Maasai tribal men came to entertain us with their high jumping dancing. Their hair and short tunics weres caked with the red clay of Kenya. The next day Ted was invited by Charles, a Christian who clerked in the souvenir shop to speak to the workers. There, mixed in with others were Maasai men. I will never forget singing and sitting with these men as they listened in rapt attention as Charles translated my Ted's words of the sweet, powerful, transforming Gospel
My mind goes back many years to a morning in our first pastorate in Bakersfield, California as a man named Wesley, missionary to the Maasai told us of the conversions to Christ of the relatives of these tribal people. Never would I have dreamed as a young pastor's wife that one day I would have the privilege of meeting his beloved people. As I write, I re-live the wonder. Several times in the next years before my Ted went Home we watched The Great Maasai Mara Migration on National Geographic. No camera could capture the sounds and smells of a massive herd, some of whom would die on their charge toward greener pastures.
I have spent my life offering the Gospel to the generation before me, my generation and the next, but I cannot quite get the hang of communicating with this new generation. For sixty years in our nation the moral absolutes we knew as children have slowly been siphoned off. There is however, this praiseworthy note: The same technology that has lured a staggering percentage of our population into deadly sin has transmitted the Gospel to millions of Muslims, Iranians, Russians, other lost peoples as well as the Chinese. The Mao tse tungs of these nations didn't win and the enemy of our souls is angry.
Donald promises to drain the swamp. The crocs are waiting, and they are hungry and mad. Suit up, Christians Prophecy is unfolding by the day.
A MIGHTY FORTRESS
A mighty fortress is our God; a bulwark never failing.
Our helper He amidst the flood of mortal ills prevailing.
For still our ancient foe doth seek to work us woe
His craft and power are great, and armed with cruel hate
On earth is not his equal.
Did we in our own strength confide; our striving would be losing.
Were not the right Man on our side, the Man of God's own choosing.
Dost ask who that may be? Christ Jesus, it is He.
Lord Sabaoth His Name; from age to age the same.
And He must win the battle.
And though this world with devils filled should threaten to undo us.
We will not fear, for God hath willed His Truth to triumph through us,.
The prince of darkness grim, we tremble not for him
His rage we can endure for lo, his doom is sure.
One little Word shall fell him.
That Word above all earthly powers, no thanks to them abideth.
The Spirit and the gifts are ours through Him Who sideth with us.
Let goods and kindred go; this mortal life also
The body they may kill; God's Truth abideth still
His Kingdom is forever!
Love, Jo
