We drove up (and down!) the Sani Pass while on holiday in the Drakensberg on Monday 3rd Dec. One can only drive it in a 4x4 vehicle - which we did in the Hundai Tucson that Ned bought just before we went to Mocambique on outreach in June/July this year. This picture is a view up the pass, between the South African and Lesotho border posts. If you judge the road to be what it looks like in the foreground, you'll be in for a surprise. As you look at the winding road up ahead, you can see that it will be a bit of a challenge, but you don't really know what you are up against until you actually drive it and experience it. This is pretty much how I have experienced life - knowing the direction in which I am travelling but not really knowing what I will encounter on the way.
Oftentimes I have wondered what the purpose of the journey is, and whether I have perhaps chosen a way that I should not be on - maybe because the going has been rough and the lessons learned difficult, or the degree of perseverance required a bit too overwhelming to reflect on. But then I look back, and, as with this picture taken a few hundred metres from the Lesotho border post, I see where I have come from - the terrain that I have mastered - as seen by the rocks and boulders that constitute the road in the foreground. I see more of the beauty that I missed on the upward journey, and the river snaking below the winding road - and I realize that constant refreshment has been at hand all the time - that I have been accompanied and shadowed by the Living God symbolized by the abundant, flowing waters of the river. And I see the steady rise in altitude that I have made - drawing ever closer to God through my journey.
At the top of the Pass, on the South African side of the border fence seen on the right, were two Lesotho gentleman preparing to journey down the Pass with their cargo of sheep. We were intrigued by how they were secured with a rope net. I suppose had they not been secured that way the temptation for the them to jump out and escape would have been too great as the bakkie slowly bounced over the rocky places down the pass road. I too have often wanted to bail out during seemingly treacherous times or times when I have been in the dark and wondered what on earth I was doing and where I was going. But there has always been something that restrained me, something that said 'hang in there/ keep going' - something like this protective net securing the sheep.
Driving into Lesotho for about 12Km, it was remarkable how cold it was - in the middle of summer in the middle of the day the temperature outside was 12C. No wonder the locals walk around with blankets wrapped around them! The vegetation was scrubby - like the karoo - with not much grass. Dry. So it must be in the rain-shadow as where we had come from was wet and green. Its surprising how one encounters areas of aridity and drought in the midst of lush, green regions. We were left wondering how the people make a living as there hardly seemed enough vegetation for the sheep and goats to graze and browse on. A reminder to me of how God sustains me during times of paucity and famine.
Looking back along the road we had driven into Lesotho - back towards the Border Post - the road was not as dramatically steep or rocky - more of a gentle rise through the plains at the top of the berg.
During the past while I have been wrestling with the Lord about future direction, having got to a place and achieved a goal that He set before me. I suppose that I have felt a bit like Elijah after his triumph over the prophets of Baal at Mt Carmel - in need of rest and a fresh vision for ministry. God's words to Elijah - 'go back the way you came' - now make sense to me. As I look back over the Sani Pass from where we traveled and l see where we came from; and as we traveled the downward route to the bottom of the Pass again, revisiting what we had already passed through and over but with a different perspective and new appreciation of the journey and all that it had entailed, I now have a fresh perspective and elements to reflect on in my own journey in life, which I expect to contribute to a fresh vision and direction.
Oftentimes I have wondered what the purpose of the journey is, and whether I have perhaps chosen a way that I should not be on - maybe because the going has been rough and the lessons learned difficult, or the degree of perseverance required a bit too overwhelming to reflect on. But then I look back, and, as with this picture taken a few hundred metres from the Lesotho border post, I see where I have come from - the terrain that I have mastered - as seen by the rocks and boulders that constitute the road in the foreground. I see more of the beauty that I missed on the upward journey, and the river snaking below the winding road - and I realize that constant refreshment has been at hand all the time - that I have been accompanied and shadowed by the Living God symbolized by the abundant, flowing waters of the river. And I see the steady rise in altitude that I have made - drawing ever closer to God through my journey.
At the top of the Pass, on the South African side of the border fence seen on the right, were two Lesotho gentleman preparing to journey down the Pass with their cargo of sheep. We were intrigued by how they were secured with a rope net. I suppose had they not been secured that way the temptation for the them to jump out and escape would have been too great as the bakkie slowly bounced over the rocky places down the pass road. I too have often wanted to bail out during seemingly treacherous times or times when I have been in the dark and wondered what on earth I was doing and where I was going. But there has always been something that restrained me, something that said 'hang in there/ keep going' - something like this protective net securing the sheep.
Driving into Lesotho for about 12Km, it was remarkable how cold it was - in the middle of summer in the middle of the day the temperature outside was 12C. No wonder the locals walk around with blankets wrapped around them! The vegetation was scrubby - like the karoo - with not much grass. Dry. So it must be in the rain-shadow as where we had come from was wet and green. Its surprising how one encounters areas of aridity and drought in the midst of lush, green regions. We were left wondering how the people make a living as there hardly seemed enough vegetation for the sheep and goats to graze and browse on. A reminder to me of how God sustains me during times of paucity and famine.
Looking back along the road we had driven into Lesotho - back towards the Border Post - the road was not as dramatically steep or rocky - more of a gentle rise through the plains at the top of the berg.
During the past while I have been wrestling with the Lord about future direction, having got to a place and achieved a goal that He set before me. I suppose that I have felt a bit like Elijah after his triumph over the prophets of Baal at Mt Carmel - in need of rest and a fresh vision for ministry. God's words to Elijah - 'go back the way you came' - now make sense to me. As I look back over the Sani Pass from where we traveled and l see where we came from; and as we traveled the downward route to the bottom of the Pass again, revisiting what we had already passed through and over but with a different perspective and new appreciation of the journey and all that it had entailed, I now have a fresh perspective and elements to reflect on in my own journey in life, which I expect to contribute to a fresh vision and direction.
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