The Lion of the Tribe of Judah

1 Kings 7:36

The Voice (VOICE)

³⁶ Hiram carved winged creatures, lions, and palm trees onto the braces wherever he found space, and he surrounded them with garlands.

Dad and Mom drove up from Zambia to visit us at Ikizu in Tanzania in their VW Microbus. We spent a couple days driving around the Serengeti National Park. We encountered lions frequently around Seronera, and often, especially in the early mornings, we could spot a pride of 10 or 15 lions clustered around a kill they had made during the night hours. Later in the day we would find them under the shade of a great tree lying down, their bellies fat from eating.

One afternoon we came upon a pair of lions lying lazily in the shade. It became obvious that the lion was interested in the lioness in a much more romantic way than merely as a partner during the hunt. As we watched, he tried to mount her, but she got up and moved a short distance away. He followed after her, eagerly smelling her pheromones. Again when he tried to mount her, she moved away.

When I was a child, Dad and Mom always appeared to be asexual. One time when I was quite young I asked Mom why she wore an undergarment with lots of lace and then put on other clothes to cover it up and no one could see it. She looked at me and responded simply, “Your father likes to see me in it.” I never gave it much thought after that.

Mom was very interested in the lion pair. When the lioness finally allowed the lion to mount her, Mom exclaimed in a hushed voice full of awe, “Isn’t this beautiful and special?” She continued to watch spellbound, as did we all. For Sylvia and me, it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, although we spent many happy days amongst the animals in the Serengeti.

The Bible often represents God as a lion. We felt privileged to witness lions in a loving, tender moment as well as in their proverbial swiftness and might.

Thank You, God, that You are loving and tender towards us as well as defending us with Your unmatched power.

Love Her As Yourself

Ephesians 5:33

Holman Christian Standard Bible (HCSB)

³³ To sum up, each one of you is to love his wife as himself

Alice[i] once told me this about her pastor father. He had a cupboard near the ceiling in his house. It was locked and he carried the only key on his person at all times. Whenever he ate bread, he would go to the cupboard, unlock it, take out a jar of jam, and spread his slice of bread generously with his jam. Then he would take the jar and lock it up again. Neither his wife nor children ever got any of Father’s jam.

I still remember the sense of shock I felt over the father’s callous selfishness. How could a minister of the gospel read Ephesians 5:33 and not apply it in such an obvious case as allowing himself to savor the sweet jam and not allow his wife to enjoy the same delight?

A decade or more later, our family visited Plimoth Plantation south of Boston in Massachusetts. The historic village illustrates life in 1627. Each person employed at the plantation represents one of the villagers of so long ago. He or she has studied everything there is to know about that particular pilgrim. Like actors, they try to never step out of character. If you have never visited there, you owe it to yourself to see how our ancestors lived. 

[ii]

We walked into a house where a man was sitting and carving on a piece of wood. I asked him what he was making, and he replied, “A spoon. Do you have a spoon?”

I laughed and answered, “Yes.”

“Does your wife have a spoon?” he asked.

Catching the spirit of the times, I replied with a knowing grin, “No!”

“Neither does mine. She and the children eat their food with their fingers.” He vouchsafed.

I gained an insight into how, in the past, such commonplace necessities as spoons were not readily available, and often the women and children went without, even though the husband might have one. They represented my ancestors. No wonder Paul had to encourage believers, like me, to practice the equality each person deserves under the grace of Christ.

Thank You, Lord, for elevating us all to the same level: Your brothers and sisters.

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[i] Not her real name, although the incident is very true

[ii]  Picture from Google images for Plimoth Plantation

Spring

Song of Solomon 2:12

The Voice (VOICE)

¹² The flowers are unfolding in the fields; the birds are warming up their songs,
    The cooing of the turtledove is heard throughout the land.

In 2008 we flew into Cape Town for our first visit to South Africa in almost 30 years. Long time friend Lincoln met us at the airport, and we spent the first couple nights with his family. The first morning I awoke to kuk-COORRRRR-uk repeated over and over again. The cooing of the ring necked dove sounded something like a concerned query “How’s father?” repeated endlessly.

Immediately, a thousand memories swept over me, memories of awaking in the early hours of a fresh spring Cape morning. After a brief breakfast of Weetbix and fresh, non-homogenized Jersey cow milk rich with a thick layer of cream, I would walk up the slopes of Helderberg Mountain on which we lived. A brightly colored green and yellow pair of Bokmakieries would be calling each other in a loud and musical “bok-bok” and an immediate response of “makierie.” They repeated this often just to express their love for each other. 

At my feet and into the dense bushes of the fynbos that stretched all around me, often impenetrable but hid a wealth of beautiful flowers unrivaled in variety anywhere else on earth. The magnificent protea blossoms attracted the sugarbird iridescent sunbirds anxious for a deep draught of nectar.

Occasionally we would startle a huge family of guinea fowl chicks that would dash away in a dozen different directions and suddenly disappear as though transported into the ether by a cosmic Scotty.  An occasional duiker fled into the dense bush with our excited collie, King, in hot, noisy pursuit.

When I returned home I often had my arms full of a bouquet of watsonias and arum (calla) lilies just for Mom—a treasure of beauty.  And all these wonderful memories called up by the cooing of a dove!

Watsonias on the slopes of Helderberg Mountain 

Thank You, Lord, for the chance to grow up in a place so close to paradise.