After three days of travel from Shreveport to South Sudan we were excited to finally be heading
down the muddy roads to Karkamuge in the rugged Land Cruiser with five days of camping gear
strapped to the roof, great anticipation in our hearts and our senses in overload as we tried to
process a variety of sights, sounds and smells our mind could barely comprehend. As any good
southern boy would do we hooted and hollered as we slid down the muddy roads narrowly
escaping stoppage at every turn - that is until the flash flood hit. Out of nowhere the bottom fell
out and in an instant the roads became streams and the streams became rivers. Upon reaching a
deep intersection of streams Shannon and I got out scouting for a way to pass. With each step
going deeper and deeper into the waters and as the cool rain pounded our hoods, Shannon and I
came to grips with the reality that we wouldn’t be making it to Karkamuge.
Instantly the next question began to form in our minds - would we be making it home today. Analyzing our situation with rivers to the right, rivers straight ahead, no way to back up and trees to our left, our only option was to perform the first ever U-turn with nothing but a wench so for the next twelve hours our translator, who came to be known as Peter the Great, cut a path through the bush as we wenched the Land Cruiser to one tree after another at impossible angles until finally we were facing toward home.
During these hours of wenching, digging and cutting the Lord allowed us to share the gospel with eleven men who decided to watch the wenching festivities. These men received Christ that day. Two of them were even baptized in the floodwaters when they cut off their bracelets to denounce witchcraft.
With the baptism celebration complete and the Cruiser facing home we piled into the truck and headed home with the closeness that comes with the fellowship of ministry. Everything was rollin and we could feel the warmth of our beds until we came to a river and the air got tense. Shannon shifted into low gear and off we went. We made it across the river but as we tried to ascend the steep banks of the river our wheels began to spin and we were stuck again. Like a well oiled machine we all jumped out of the car, assumed our positions on the wench team and got to work once again; however, by now the wench was totally shot. After fighting the wench for four more hours, at 1:30am Shannon finally announced that we’d be sleeping in the Land Cruiser that night.
Imagine seven smelly grown men sleeping in a truck tilted at a 30 degree angle with all the windows rolled up nice and tight to keep the mosquitos out. After an eternity of trying to steal just a few hours of rest not knowing what tomorrow held, with the first peak of the sun we peeled ourselves from the truck and began digging out again. I wish I could say we then made it home safely but we are not there yet. A we excitedly headed down the road with cheers of celebration - you guessed it - we got stuck again - not a word was whispered in the truck.
Thankfully, by this time he river was down so Carrie came to our rescue. What a beautiful sight she was as she came muddin up and all we could see was truck full of mud and a face full of smiles. She is always a breath of fresh air. After only one more three-hour delay to repair the fan belt we were home safe and sound and drifting off to sleep in our soft, warm, clean beds.
As we lay in our tukel discussing the events of the day we couldn’t help but think that God had just given us a glimpse into the struggles the Lewis’ face on a regular basis. On this day and throughout the rest of the trip one thing truth became abundantly clear - You gotta be tough to reach the unreached!
TG
jn
Instantly the next question began to form in our minds - would we be making it home today. Analyzing our situation with rivers to the right, rivers straight ahead, no way to back up and trees to our left, our only option was to perform the first ever U-turn with nothing but a wench so for the next twelve hours our translator, who came to be known as Peter the Great, cut a path through the bush as we wenched the Land Cruiser to one tree after another at impossible angles until finally we were facing toward home.
During these hours of wenching, digging and cutting the Lord allowed us to share the gospel with eleven men who decided to watch the wenching festivities. These men received Christ that day. Two of them were even baptized in the floodwaters when they cut off their bracelets to denounce witchcraft.
With the baptism celebration complete and the Cruiser facing home we piled into the truck and headed home with the closeness that comes with the fellowship of ministry. Everything was rollin and we could feel the warmth of our beds until we came to a river and the air got tense. Shannon shifted into low gear and off we went. We made it across the river but as we tried to ascend the steep banks of the river our wheels began to spin and we were stuck again. Like a well oiled machine we all jumped out of the car, assumed our positions on the wench team and got to work once again; however, by now the wench was totally shot. After fighting the wench for four more hours, at 1:30am Shannon finally announced that we’d be sleeping in the Land Cruiser that night.
Imagine seven smelly grown men sleeping in a truck tilted at a 30 degree angle with all the windows rolled up nice and tight to keep the mosquitos out. After an eternity of trying to steal just a few hours of rest not knowing what tomorrow held, with the first peak of the sun we peeled ourselves from the truck and began digging out again. I wish I could say we then made it home safely but we are not there yet. A we excitedly headed down the road with cheers of celebration - you guessed it - we got stuck again - not a word was whispered in the truck.
Thankfully, by this time he river was down so Carrie came to our rescue. What a beautiful sight she was as she came muddin up and all we could see was truck full of mud and a face full of smiles. She is always a breath of fresh air. After only one more three-hour delay to repair the fan belt we were home safe and sound and drifting off to sleep in our soft, warm, clean beds.
As we lay in our tukel discussing the events of the day we couldn’t help but think that God had just given us a glimpse into the struggles the Lewis’ face on a regular basis. On this day and throughout the rest of the trip one thing truth became abundantly clear - You gotta be tough to reach the unreached!
TG
jn
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