The Hand of God

 

 

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Romans 15:13 Contemporary English Version

¹³ I pray that God, who gives hope, will bless you with complete happiness and peace because of your faith. And may the power of the Holy Spirit fill you with hope.

 

A couple weeks ago I was visiting Solusi University in Zimbabwe. Dad had gone there in 1954 to turn this mission station into a university to train local leaders to take over the work. Adventists in the country now number over a million members—a witness to the success of this endeavor. As I stood in the church Dad built, the Dean of Students, Dr Ndlovu, asked me preach for the Sabbath service there in two days.

I should have said no right then. As a professional mathematician, I can’t make a sermon with an otherwise full schedule in the next 36 hours. But I let him twist my arm. I decided to simply tell the story of Solusi as I remember it. So, between all my other engagements, I stole a few minutes here and there to jot down the history on my phone. I was twelve when we went to Solusi. So I remember much of that famous African Adventist mission from that time forward. I concluded my talk with the great hope of Christians everywhere: Jesus died to forgive us our sins and cleanse us form all unrighteousness. I felt inadequate, to say the least. Adding to the stress, electricity went out Friday night and caused me several extra sleepless hours.

At 5:12 Sabbath morning the alarm on my phone went off. I got up to shut it off before it woke my wife, Sylvia. But the alarm shut off by itself in my hand. Then I searched my phone—I found no evidence that any alarm had been set. After about 12 more minutes, I said to myself: There’s no way that I’ll go back to sleep now. Furthermore, I need to go through my sermon, which I haven’t had a chance to do yet. It must have been set by the hand of God. He must want me to think about the notes I have written.

The electricity was still off. So I went into our bathroom, closed the door, and spoke out loud the message I wanted to deliver later that morning. Of course, the phone had its own power. I rearranged things, deleted some and added others. I thanked the Lord profusely for giving me this time. When I stepped in front of the believers later, I did so with confidence and enthusiasm.

I count this experience as a real privilege to deliver a message in the church Dad built over 50 years ago.

 

Lord, thank You that we can follow in the footsteps of the pioneers who served you so sacrificially.

 

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[1] Picture of me preaching in the Solusi Church that Dad built. ©Uni Clarke 2023

God and Good Living

 

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 Deuteronomy 8:7 Good News Translation

⁷ The Lord your God is bringing you into a fertile land—a land that has rivers and springs, and underground streams gushing out into the valleys and hills;

 

Shortly after we were married, we spent five years on a rural mission station in Africa. I was sent there to teach math and science. We lived in a lovely mud brick house that was plastered and whitewashed, and had red cement floors. We had electric lights in every room and one electric outlet per room. The electricity was only on from 6:00 p.m. to 9:30 p.m. If the electricity didn’t come on, I had to shoulder my tool box and hike a couple blocks and fix the generator. We often left the lights switched on, for obvious reasons. Our kerosene operated fridge needed the wick adjusted every so often or the flame would either go out or get too high and coat the ceiling with soot.

We had cold running water. I took a cold dip in the bathtub each morning. During droughts I would leave water in the tub for days and take a dip in it each morning. When we had water problems, I shouldered my tool box and hiked a mile down to the water pump—we had no car—and fix the pump. This might take only a couple hours or a fortnight. If the lights or water went off, it meant the entire mission was without lights or water. When I didn’t notice, someone would come and pound on my door—there were no telephones. When the drains were blocked anywhere on campus, it was my duty to unblock them.

We had a small garden with one papaya tree in it. Often someone would come by and pick my unripe papaya and come to my door and try to sell it to me.

By contrast, now we live in a lovely home about the same size in California. The house is wood framed with plaster walls. The floors are cement and covered with carpet or tile. We have lights and several outlets in every room and electricity all day long. On the rare occasion the lights go out, we wait for only a few seconds, and they come on again. We have an electrically powered fridge that needs no special attention.

We have hot and cold running water. In cool weather I take a warm shower each morning. In hot weather I usually take a morning dip in our swimming pool. Rarely does the water go off, and we are notified beforehand that it will be off. When the drains get plugged, I phone a plumber. We have several working phones that sometimes call us too often.

Two cars park in the garage. In the yard, we have a small orchard with lots of citrus fruit, guavas, avocados, figs, and bananas that supply us with more than enough to feed ourselves and the rats around us.

In the yard behind the first house I had dug a garbage hole, where we dumped all our garbage—when it filled up, I would light it and let it burn. It would sometimes burn for more than a day. Then I could pack it down and add more garbage. Here at this new house, I place all the garbage in three bins, which are emptied weekly, by the city.

Yet in both houses we found joy and love and comfort. It’s not just what one has or lacks that makes it pleasant or unpleasant. The attitude we adopt can make each sufficient and livable.

Thank You, Lord, for these common luxurious necessities that You keep us supplied with in all circumstances.

 

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[1] Our home in Africa