I walked through this weekend, having relinquished two beloved family members to the vagaries of Mozambican travel. Luke flew to Maputo (the capitol) to take his SAT test. Return flights were booked for days, so he returned on the infamous "chapa." Phil drove to Morrumbala on roads that must be seen to be believed.
Isabel and I had some great "girl time" safe at home.
Dante's words reminded me that whatever the outcome of the weekend, God was reliable.
"In His will is our peace." Six one-syllable words. But they say it all.
His will is completely secure. Not necessarily safe, by our definition of safety. But in His Hands, we are secure. I lighted on those words, briefly at first, then kept coming back.
If I am not a peace, where am I regarding His will? And if I am in His will, why should I not be at peace? God's will doesn't come with the type of guarantee I would draw up. But it does promise His presence always. That is all I truly need.
Well, the guys are back, safe and whole. But if the scenario had played out differently, God would still be in control, and my peace would still depend upon His will in my life.
Here are some photos of the ferry over the Zambezi River. If you strain your eyes, you might recognize Luke and Bell waiting for the pedestrian embarkation time.
You can also see the type of transport Luke took on his "cross country" trip.