From Sudan to Sabbath

Scott’s summary of his trip to Sudan is the entry below—scroll down and read it!  You can also see more pictures and thoughts on Kim’s blog (sidebar).  Since his return we have been blessed by a restful and adventurous anniversary trip through southwestern Uganda, borne along by your prayers.  Here are a few highlights:  travel mercies, island of restoration, glories of creation.

TRAVEL MERCIES
Two weeks ago today we piled seven Myhre and Masso kids into the truck at dawn and Karen and I headed out on a two-day journey which eventually reunited us with Scott and Michael.  My biggest concern was being the responsible driver through difficult roads, and/or through car malfunctions.  God sometimes keeps problems at bay, at other times allows us to plow through our fears and find Him faithful.  This trip held the latter—we met drivers from the Fort Portal side who told us the road was blocked, and eventually came to a large truck stuck in the mud on a hairpin turn, obstructing the road.  But there was a narrow passage through the deep mire between the truck and the mountain wall, and our trusty landrover in low-4WD managed to slip by.  So far so good.  After Fort Portal on the paved road I began to notice the car seeming to swerve occasionally, pushing to the side and needing me to over-correct.  We stopped and checked tires, rebalanced the load, shifted some weight from the roof rack.  I prayed for wisdom to know if was just my unfamiliarity with the speed of the tarmac and the winds that whip over the hills, or a real problem with the truck.  At Kasese I felt firmly that something was truly wrong, and pulled into a gas station to ask for a mechanic.  Luke got out and looked with me, and being more observant and in tune with mechanical objects than I am, noticed that the bolt which had recently been replaced on a bar that stabilizes the steering had sheared completely off.  It was gone.  Thankfully we found a diminuitive angel of a mechanic who agreed with our diagnosis.  It took about four or five hours (painful) for him to take off parts, hire a motorcycle to run around Kasese town looking for replacements, jerry-rig bushings, try, test drive, go back to the pit, replace another rear stabilizing rod bushing.  I called our usual mechanic Atwoki on the phone at several points for advice.  In the end the potentially dangerous problem was solved.  Later on the very rough tracks in the game park I realized that if we had not invested in that repair we would have been unable to complete our planned trek.  And in spite of the delay, it was a chance to see that God was able to bring us through the thing I feared.

ISLAND OF RESTORATION
Sounds like something out or Pilgrim’s Progress. In our case it was Bushara Island, a flowering forest rising up from the chilly waters of Lake Bunyoni (place of the little birds, literally) in the highlands around Kabale.  The Church of Uganda runs a simple retreat center on this island, a dozen or so tents and cottages scattered around its steep shore, each with a porch overlooking the still waters of the long narrow lake.  On the spine of the island is a centrally located open-air restaurant of sorts, complete with a stone fireplace.  At about 8 thousand feet the nights are COLD, a welcome respite from our steamy valley.  The Massos, Pierces, Larissa, Scotticus, and Kim joined us for card games, read alouds, jumping off the pier to swim in the lake, wild flings from a frighteningly high rope swing, a swimming/running/canoeing family triathalon disguised as a treasure hunt, reading, bird watching, some sailing and more swimming.   This is a place with outhouses, no running water, and no electricity . . . But also none of the usual demands of work and life.  It was the perfect place for us to reconnect as a family and a team, to read Scripture quietly in the mornings, to talk and process.  We are thankful for those days.

GLORIES OF CREATION
From Bushara most of the team went on to Kampala, but Scotticus, Larissa, and our family headed to Bwindi Impenetrable Forest, a national park in Uganda which is home to half of the world’s remaining mountain gorillas.  We camped just by the park entrance (I suppose the reputation of being impenetrable was preserved).  One day Scotticus and Larissa trekked the gorillas while our family went on about 10 kilometers of hiking through the woods to see L’hoest’s monkeys, towering trees, sprinklings of vivid butterflies, a view south to the Virunga volcanoes, waterfalls.  The next day the singles stayed with the kids in the camp so we could trek.  Luke has been mourning for months the fact that he was too young to get a trekking permit (age minimum is 15).  Since he is so passionate about Ugandan wildlife I did ask numerous park people if an exception could be made, but to no avail.  On the morning we prepared to trek, as we were getting our briefing from the guide, he introduced the head of the park who happened to be visiting.  I raised my hand and asked one more time if a 14 plus-year-old who was strong and capable and had grown up here could be allowed to go . . . And he said yes!  So in five minutes we ran and got Luke and he joined us.  Seeing the gorillas is an amazing experience—creatures bigger and stronger than us by far, peacefully munching stalks of vegetation or swinging lazily up and down trees, ambling over for better access to the leaves, unperturbed by our presence, rumbling contentment like mammoth kittens.  The silverback’s fingers looked nearly as big as my wrist.  As we returned to the ranger station we were surprised to find a different family of gorillas had ambled into the trees right on the edge of the park—so that I was able to run and get the three younger kids from our campsite and let them also see the gorillas up close (though more briefly)!  I can’t overemphasize what a rare treat and blessing that the entire family was able to view these endangered animals.  That evening we went to see a mission health clinic started by a family doctor from California, and enjoyed touring their facility and exchanging stories.  The doctor insisted in putting us up in his house for the night which turned out to be a lovely, tasteful, private home right on the edge of the forest again, where we could dip in the icy river and relax on the high porch.  While we were in the hospital, our four children watched the gorilla troop amble along the edge of the forest again!  Our Bwindi experience was all we could have hoped for our 20th anniversary.

From Bwindi we moved camp to Ishasha, the southern and little-visited area of Queen Elizabeth National Park.  There is a camp site there along the Ishasha River which forms the Congo border, where we pitched our tents only yards from pods of sunbathing hippos and were observed by raucous colobus monkeys.  This park is famous for the habits of the lions, which climb into ancient fig trees in the heat of the day and rest lazily on the thick branches.  Though we’ve camped there a number of times we had never seen the lions. As soon as we set up the tents the kids were ready to start searching, which seemed like a futile idea in the mid day sun.  However this time our ranger guide led us on and on to tree after tree until we finally found a pair of lionesses.  They regally deigned to glance at us with their yellow-brown eyes as we took pictures beneath them.

In Psalm 104 the poet finds strength in admiring God’s creativity and power as displayed in the lions, the wild donkeys, the flowing streams, the deep oceans.  Whenever we are able to get out into game parks and camp, to be surrounded by darkness under the swath of the milky way, to listen to the trumpet of elephants or glimpse the jeweled wing of a kingfisher in the bushes, our souls are lifted.  Creation’s glorious beauty derives from the fundamental beauty and glory of the Creator, and we are thankful for the opportunities we have in spite of the Fall to see pristine forms of that beauty up close.