NOTE – With apologies, this is a repost of a blog I posted 2 days ago. Somehow, the system “acted up” and deleted everything, including pictures, after a day of working properly. I have tried to reconstruct it and trust it is about the same. Thanks.
It was the end of December (naturally, if it was Christmas Day!). The rains that year had been extra heavy. I was to be the preacher at a Christmas morning meeting in a town about 30 miles away. My trusty Land Rover was ready for the trip in spite of the expected mud.Down the road, just about 12 miles from where the town was, was a long stretch of fairly level barren plain over which the road was constructed.
Off to the left, about 5 miles away, were several hills and the ground naturally sloped toward the road – and all that rain was draining down toward the road, inundating it in several places. Washing out the culverts in other places necessitating one to leave the road to get around the washout. Oh, yes. The ground on the sides of the road – in fact, almost the whole plain, was mbuga (cotton-soil swamp). Well soaked black clay, which has a tendency to bog down any vehicle brazen enough to try to get through.
The 4-wheel drive of my Land Rover got me through several sections like that. As I neared the end of the flat plain, full of hope that I would not have any more problems, I saw up ahead that a bus had proceeded me. And, in that one last section it was badly stuck. All the passengers were out on the road-side, some were helping as they tried to jack up the bus so they could put rocks under the tires. Others were trying to find anything – rocks, sticks, even grass – that could help provide the traction needed.
I pulled up on the road behind the bus to see if I could help – and, of course, get it out of the way so I could get to the church on time. The bus was really buried in the gunky mud. Where the bus was stuck, it was basically in the middle of the road. Though the culvert section had washed out, the culvert itself was still there and the bus thought it could “bounce” through the washout. Instead, the bus was so heavy that the concrete culvert itself had collapsed. Now the hung-up bus couldn’t move – nor could I help by trying to tow it.
Cautiously, I scouted out the water logged – and flooded – section on the side of the road. I waded through the water, feeling with my bare feet the grass and ground under the water. It felt “a bit” solid but, with the grass under the water, felt sure that my Land Rover would make it through, around the bus and up onto the road beyond it. And it did. With a road and grand splashing of water, with the 4-wheel drive engaged, I plowed through and on up onto the road in front of the bus.
Immediately, the crowd of passengers from the bus came running toward my vehicle. They all wanted a ride, knowing that the bus wouldn’t be going anywhere too soon. From among the crowd, only a few were going to the town I was going to so I gave them a ride. They were very grateful. Several (I was able to pack in about 12 people) came to the Christmas meeting. One can only trust the God’s Word worked in their hearts in some way.
The trip back home in the late afternoon was uneventful. The bus had managed to get out, the flood had receded so I made it around that washed-out culvert with no problem.
Sigh of relief. Home. Tonite I sleep in my own bed. Praise the Lord for His Faithfulness and for the privilege of serving Him.