The Mamba and the Pumphouse

We all had special assignments beyond the classroom at our school in Uganda.  Mine was to daily check on and maintain the water pump that supplied our school with the best water imaginable.  Away from the campus and down into a jungleish valley was a path I could navigate with my small motorcycle.  It was a place I always approached with care.  The small shed over the pump was vine covered and often displayed some of the most amazing orchids.  My apprehension was caused by not wanting to have an “Eve at the tree” experience.  My feelings were well founded because late one afternoon as I pushed open the door I came face to face with an African Black Mamba.

Eve’s heart could not have pounded faster or harder than mine.    This one did not need to talk to me.  I understand they are really fast but so was I.  The difference between my encounter and Eve’s was only my life was in jeopardy.  Billions, perhaps a trillion since then, have perished because of her experience.  Paul wrote, “By one man’s disobedience many were made sinners, so by the obedience of one shall many be made righteous.” When the catastrophe occurred our Creator God immediately initiated a previously well conceived plan.  This was not a head scratching “what will do” moment.  From a parent’s heart of deep love came the promise that all would someday be well. Jesus did not falter with a “should I or should I not.”  This was as definite as definite can be.  No matter the cost you and I will be saved.

Oh, and what about the mamba?  We seemed to come to an agreement that I would not bother it and it would not bother me for I saw it again and again.  Neither of us were harmed.

Written by Roger Bothwell on May 16, 2014

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