From the Land of Milk and Honey to Stephen King

Another few weeks have been coupled onto our zigzagging-Zambian train ride. We finally found, furnished and moved 4 Elders into a new boarding; a happy day for the 6 Elders who had been sharing a sub-standard, one-bath boarding. On April 30, the first Zambian Branch President passed away suddenly at age 55. He was revered in the church, in the Zambian business world and by his large, righteous family. Rand and I served with his daughter on our mission in South Africa. Two other daughters have served missions and a son will be serving within a year. We needed to help the District prepare for an enormous funeral to be held in the chapel. Rand coached the new District President on how to appropriately conduct and hold a church funeral. Most of the people in attendance would be non-members who are used to pentecostal-type, mourning-wailing-singing funerals. The reverence with which we eulogize our dead would be a new experience for most. We alerted the Elders that they needed to attend the funeral to help set up the 400+ chairs and to be visible and available to many who would be hearing the Plan of Salvation for the first time. With the District banking account still frozen due to the ongoing audit, we spent many unscheduled hours standing in banking lines and running around distributing funeral funds, burial clothes, etc. We don't know where those hours came from; only the Lord can warp time like that because that Monday was also the day that we had Sister Voss with us, getting last-minute government documentation so she could fly out of the country. We were also trying to get a Malawi Visa for an Elder who had been transferred to Malawi but who wasn't able to leave Zambia because he is from the Congo, and Malawi won't accept Congolese without a special visa. . . and did I didn't know that! We finally had to enlist the Zone Leader's help for the visa charades, and very happy were they at the end of that week to hand that chore back to us.

How we ever made it on the plane Wednesday morning, the 22nd, for our meetings in Johannesburg South Africa is a wonder. What I HAD to get finished before our departure was the Distribution-jigsaw-puzzle because we were taking two large, empty suitcases to fill up with items from the Area Distribution Center (adjacent to the Area Offices and Temple.) The welcome which we received in Joburg was most appreciated. We had reserved a rental car, but we found that a car had been arranged for us. We thought we would most likely be staying at a little bed-and-breakfast, but we found ourselves booked into an elegant, landmark hotel with such nice beds that we thought seriously of putting them into our large suitcases instead of Distribution stuff. . . at least the lovely linens! Scrumptious breakfasts and dinners were provided for us at the hotel, and any ounces we lost at the beginning of mission are now firmly, but most enjoyably, back in place.

For three days, we were trained and debriefed by many department-heads, all of whom were most solicitous. We learned what we should have learned before we ever took up residency in this sub-mission-office-outpost, and we shared observations that should have been addressed long ago. One of the clear answers to our prayers came in the form of two visitors we met at dinner the first night. Recognizing our badges and attire, they stood to introduce themselves. They had just arrived from Salt Lake. They too had business with the Area Offices. Brother Joel D'Lynn (sp?) of Alpine, is the Chief Communications Controller for the Church. Brother Pete Whiting of Bountiful, is the Chief Computer Architect for the Church. Those are pretty close to their correct titles--anyway--quite impressive! We had breakfast and dinner with them the next day and we felt impressed to tell them what we were alarmed about in Zambia, which we were sure was not being fully understood up to that point. In turn they promised to speak to the head financial controller of the SE Africa Area, whom they were meeting with the next day, and indeed, at the end of our training, we were summoned to his office. That morning we had gone to an early-morning temple session. We did not expect to be able to attend the temple on this mission, so to find ourselves in the Johannesburg Temple was a gift of grace. There are a few sessions in one's life that will always stand out as revelatory, and this was one for Rand and me.

To put the icing on the cake, in the Distribution Center, we ran into Elders Stewart, Hiatt and Beldon from our Durban mission. Two were just leaving mission via Johannesburg and one was visiting them. They had served with Rand in the Ladysmith Branch Presidency, and there they were, looking like an apparition. We reminisced and caught up on things in the Durban mission for two hours. It was pure joy to unexpectedly run into these valiant Elders. The next morning, before our departing flight, Elders Yangaphi and Ntalime (not actually referred to as Elders anymore) who live in the Johannesburg area, met us at our hotel for breakfast. We couldn't talk and laugh enough. We took them home to the township of Alexandra, one of the most densely-populated townships of South Africa, not far from the temple. . . another culturally-expanding venture for our African album.

On our flight back to Zambia, Rand and I felt like the Lord had snatched us up and given us a life-line in the land of milk and honey. Humbled, fortified and grateful, we felt more able to manage our responsibilities. We had no sooner landed and turned on our phone, than we received a call from the District Pres. Lumbama. He said he and his wife and some extended family members had been in a serious auto accident about one hour's drive outside of Lusaka. His wife, Maureen, was badly injured, along with many others. The ambulance was too full for Maureen so she was put in the backseat of a car which was following the ambulance. President asked if we could find an open clinic that was equipped for trauma so she would not have to be treated at the government hospital. He was still dealing with the wreckage of the vehicles. At a heart-stopping pace, we drove to the only reputable clinic we knew of, only to find they did not have trauma equipment that was working. We met the ambulance entourage at the Government Hospital. And this is the point in this story where all the adequately descriptive words escape me. I would need to hire the pen of Stephen King, and if I did, we would have a non-fiction,horror,best-seller. One young woman had died in the accident. One had a broken neck and was comatose. One had internal injuries from which he would soon die. These three were in the car which hit the Lumbama's and they were all drunk. The two men were police officers.The strong smell of alcohol almost masked the strong stench of the hospital. Maureen and three other relatives in their van were serious, but gratefully, not critical. We stayed at the hospital most of the night, listening to crying and moaning wafting through dreary,dirty corridors. . . misery like we've never heard before. . . and waiting with Pres. Lumbama. There were no pillows or blankets or sheets. There was no water to drink. We had my pillow and a jacket in our suitcase and a bottle of water in the car. We put the pillow under Maureen's bloody head and the jacket over her shivering body and some of Rand's socks on her cold feet. She couldn't drink, her mouth was too cut and swollen, so I put the water down on the foot of the bed. I left her bedside for a moment and came back to find the water had been stolen. I will save most of the details for the telling one day, it is too tedious to write it all, but I will say, "God bless America, and its independent health plan." We went home for a couple of hours in the early morning and showered and then Rand went back to help Pres. Lumbama get Maureen home after she had been stabilized overnight. It was only the Lord who stabilized her through a Priesthood blessing, the hospital is to be given little-to-no credit.

So that was our re-entry after such an uplifting trip. Tending to the fallout of this accident has taken much of our week.(It probably serves us right for often claiming that we are like a mission triage center.) We fell far behind in our work. Pres. Bester and Pres. Dube (the other counselor who will be the new president in July) flew in Monday thru Wednesday for some pressing mission business-- which put us ever farther behind. By Friday, I had lost all positive perspective, in fact I had one bag packed before Rand talked me out of starting on the next one, at least until morning. And thus we see: my spirit is willing but my flesh is quickly weakened. The suitcase remains packed and I've decided I will take two things out for a good day and add one thing back for a bad day. If the suitcases fill up . . . well, I'll see! We had a sweet time last night helping with, and speaking in, a Young Single Adult fireside. I unpacked two things. Having been in such a hubbub all week, we only realized late last night that today would be Fast Sunday. So we began our fast late, and the Sabbath loomed long. But fasting was such a blessing today. We ended our fast at 8pm and recounted the insights and blessings that were given to us. Two more things came out of the suitcase. It's a positive pattern!