S is for SAFARI

We had been driving for an hour. After a late afternoon start, the light had faded more quickly than it does at home and dusk lasted only a short time before darkness enveloped us and hid most things from our natural view. But we had been lucky. As the sun stopped supporting the daylight, the ranger had spied a rhino in the distance and manoeuvred his open-topped land rover off the main track and into the bush. The animal seemed more intent on moving on than attacking but we followed at a safe distance for about half an hour until it reached the safety of an overgrown area of bushes and merged with the surrounding vegetation. Having given up any hope of seeing the rhino reemerge, we set off once again for a watering hole, where a flask of hot coffee and some hard biscuits replenished our physical needs while we listened to the eerie and lonely silence of an African bush evening. Then it was off again, in search of the elusive big five. AS we travelled along the bumpy dirt tracks that traversed the national park, the uneasiness of not knowing what was watching our vehicle from the darkness was always at hand and as we waited, sometimes impatiently for a sighting of an animal, our guide explained the night sky constellations of the southern hemisphere and told stories of previous experiences on safari.


And then, all of a sudden, there it was, right in front of us, startled initially by the headlights, then quickly sensing danger, moving off the track and heading for some low set bushes. Our guide shone a torch in its direction so that we could get a better look and it certainly didn't seem too fierce and made no attempt to charge our vehicle and to be honest, I didn't feel afraid, even in the darkness although it was only standing about four feet away from me as I sat in the rear of the jeep. Maybe it was the gun of our ranger, the dazzle of the jeep lights or maybe it was the fact that I'd seen its cousin in our garden, back at home, just a few days ago. Or maybe it's that I've never been afraid of a rabbit! Yet after over two hours in the bush, I began to wonder had I travelled over six thousand miles just to see something I could view from my kitchen window any day of the week. The ranger explained in detail the species and its habitat, sometimes over fairly suppressed laughter, but I guess he was only doing his job. The elephants we uncovered, roaming in the dark bush right beside us, a few minutes later brought some normality to the fact that we were in a perilous place. Also the lack of any secure fencing around our lodge huts, stories of regular visits by inquisitive big cats who used the paths around the base as a short cut and the pairs of eyes that constantly peered at us from the darkness as we 'relaxed' back at camp that night, reminded us that danger was never far away. But in truth we were never too scared to go out on the trail, whether it was a dawn jaunt in the jeep to catch the animals before their alarms had gone off or an afternoon walkabout down to the waterhole to view a family of elephants on a nature ramble, because the guide always kept us at a sensible distance and he had the knowledge and the armoury to protect us. And of course he had covered the trail a thousand times and knew all its inherent dangers.


I love the verse in Matthew's gospel where Jesus sends out his disciples with these words, 'And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.' Equally, when Moses handed over the leadership of Israel to Joshua, he did so with these words, 'The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.' I often think of my time in the African bush and how my walk of faith is littered with moments of danger, sadness, uncertainty, surprise and the unknown and how Satan is watching constantly for his moment to emerge from the darkness and attack me off guard. I think of the ranger whose first thought was for my safety from wild animals and how Jesus is always there with me in every area and knows the road better than I do. That's why I'd rather follow in His footsteps than make my own.