Psalm 121
I lift up my eyes to the hills —
from where will my help come?
There we were, far into the dusty bush, hills rising up around us, following a man on a motorcycle to where he thought Dr. Friberg's clinic was. Out there, it felt empty, unprotected. The mountains protected us, perhaps, but also cut us off from the village we had left behind.My help comes from the LORD,
who made heaven and earth.
All life happens according to the turn of the seasons. Work happens during the daylight, herding and farming happens according to the rainy and the dry seasons. God is creator and more than creator: God is the one who brings the rain.He will not let your foot be moved;
he who keeps you will not slumber.
He who keeps Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.
We slept out under the stars one night, outside in the dust, away from the shelter and meager protection of our tents, open to the world around us. It was only then that I realized that our campfire stayed lit all night. And the Maasai warriors who just seemed to be hanging around with us and our guides? They sat there, by the fire, all night. They talked and drank chai, and watched over us. Not just that night when we slept outside, but every night that we camped. That is the life of the bush: warriors keeping guard at night, staying awake, ready to fend off whatever might approach the camp.The LORD is your keeper;
the LORD is your shade at your right hand.
The sun shall not strike you by day,
nor the moon by night.
Northern Tanzania is near the equator, the sun rising and setting at predictable times, diving the day cleanly into twelve hours of light and twelve hours of dark. During the hottest parts of the day - noon until around four - the difference in temperature between sun and shade is remarkable. In the sun, you feel your skin burning. In the shade, you feel remarkably refreshed. And at night, more stars than you've ever seen before. In the darkness, I can see our group huddled around Carole's stargazing app, swiping the phone across the sky and tracing constellations - seeing the Southern Cross, and looking at the Big Dipper upside-down. But also in the darkness, so much uncertainty. So dark you couldn't see the thorny acacia limbs that reached out to snag your hair, and even a flashlight couldn't give you a full sense of where you were or what was ahead.The LORD will keep you from all evil;
he will keep your life.
I saw a young toddler with AIDS and a heart defect, an old man so ill and frail and in peril because he was refusing to eat. We shared conversation and faith with a Maasai choir who, upon our departure, told us "We hope that you will be able to come to us again, but if it is not meant that we should cross paths again in this life, we look forward to meeting you anew in heaven." Life and death are real. I think about the drought and famine in Horn of Africa, and can only imagine the life or death prayers being raised up to God, the one who brings the rain.The LORD will keep
your going out and your coming in
from this time on and forevermore.
"There won't be as many men as usual," Dr. Friberg told us as we were driving out to the Maasa choir rehearsal, "because the men are traveling, finding pastures and water for the herds in this dry time." They were on the move, leaving the thorny protection of their bomas, going forth, and hoping to return home safely when their journey was done. Later that weekend, we walked to worship at a different small church in the bush, and on the way back to our camp, we walked in the company of many Maasai children, who accompanied us on our journey as we all headed back to the safety of our homes.
In many and various ways, this is indeed the word of the Lord.
Thanks be to God.
Peace,
Melissa
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