Saturday morning at 10 a.m. we climbed onto the already loaded flat bed truck. Lauren (a friend who has been visiting this month) and I (Jo) were on an adventure, an overnight choir trip up to Mulanje Mountain.
The choir was already singing as we piled in, and found a space. This was my first time away from our kids since our arrival six months ago, and I was ready. We sang some familiar songs first, and then learned some new ones. Malawian songs always have a lead line, which is great because they cue the rest of us. The harmonies are incredible. The road was very bumpy because of the rain and I was glad to have a mattress beneath me. The tarmack was a welcome sight. In Blantyre, we stopped to pick up pop and cookies for everyone. That was lunch…and everyone was thrilled. Then on we went into the mountains. Surrounded by fields of sunflowers with the mountains behind, we were all awestruck. We all began to pull out whatever clothes we could find as the temperatures dropped. Some only had what they had on, and so we shared and cuddled up.
We were greeted on the road, by two of the pastors who would show us the way. As the road narrowed to a path, we found ourselves at a catholic school. One of the pastors is a teacher at the school, and we were to stay at his home. “You are most welcome” are the words I heard as Ruthie enveloped me in a hug. She is expecting this month, and was such a gracious and loving host, serving us meals, and preparing water for washing. In this home, I saw something very unusual for Malawi, a father holding his toddler, even when she cried. He stood at the front of the church with her, and carried her as we walked. Later I watched him welcome another child, not his own, whose own father was there but not able to offer the same love. In a land full of orphans, the love of a father is a rare and beautiful gift. I sat beside him on the truck, and blessed him for this great gift.
The backdrop for the service was the massive Mulanje Mountain. As the sun went down, and the stars took over, we worshipped and prayed. I spoke on Ps.121: ‘Where does your help come from?’ With such great needs, it was good to be reminded that God who made the heavens and the earth and the mountains is our source, One who neither slumbers nor sleeps.
We returned to the pastor’s home for supper. It is always interesting to eat in the dark, without cutlery and without full knowledge of what is being served! We enjoyed goat, fish and nsema, and quickly learned the art of cupping your fingers so as to make a spoon. We slept that night on a bamboo mat, just like most Malawians. I realized that my body has been softened by years of nice, comfortable mattresses. It was a short night, and we were woken at 3 a.m. as breakfast preparations began outside our window.
At 7 a.m. we were on the road again to another village, which nestled in the shadow of that great mountain. The pastor led us to a shelter made with bamboo poles loosely fitted together at crazy angles. We worshipped, and prayed, and listened to Lauren preach on God’s great love, that he would leave the ninety-nine sheep to find the one. We felt the presence of God as Lauren and Fran (another IRIS missionary) talked about the love of the Father for each one of us. After lunch we began the trek home. Most of the team were very cold by the time we descended into the warmth of the Shire Valley. They had brought all the clothes they had, but for some that does not include a sweater, or even a long sleeved shirt. The sunset on the way down the mountain was incredible. What an awesome God we serve!
