6:30 AM. I had already been awake for at least an hour in anticipation of the upcoming trip. My dear friend Paul Balela and his family were moving back to Tanzania. They had been working in Burundi for several years as missionaries. At the time there was no direct route between Bujumbura and the part of Tanzania where they lived. They would normally have to take a bus two days to Nairobi and then another day to their home area of Arusha. With a family of four this was more than a tedious process.
So, they developed plan B. What was Plan B? Me. I would drive them 5 hours to the Tanzanian border, help them carry all their luggage across the border check-point, and then drive back to Bujumbura. The next step for them? Catch a bus to Arusha via Singida. This route would save them at least 24 hours and hundreds of dollars in expenses.
They had all the luggage ready as the Burundian sunrise appeared over Lake Tanganyika. We secured the suitcases and boxes with some fine cord, piled 7 people into my 5 seater pick-up truck and took off. Everything was going great. We were about an hour into the drive making great time as we ascended the escarpment. Most of Burundi is situated high in the hills; Bujumbura is the exception nestled down in the valley below. To reach the high plateau is no small task. The road climbs almost straight upwards following a very sharp ascent amongst banana tree plantations for some 45 minutes. The beauty is absolutely breathtaking.
As usual, I was mesmerized by the beauty as I whipped around the corners counting down the kilometers that still lay in front of us before we reached Tanzania.
Suddenly, I heard a voice behind me.
"Ah...Mr. Steve....." one of the girls was speaking.
"Yes?"
"Gideon isn't feeling so well."
"Sorry."
"Ah...Mr. Steve...." a different child was speaking.
"Yes?"
"Grace really isn't feeling well either."
"Umm...should I pull over?" I asked Balela, the dad.
"We...need...to.....keep...going..." his voice was shaky.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"I'm not..... feeling.... so well."
Bluuuuuuaaaaaahhhhh. Gideon couldn't hold it any longer.
"Should I pull over?" Now I felt really bad.
"No...keep....going..." Balela sounded very weak now.
Bluuuaaaaaahhhh. Grace's turn.
Bluuuuaaaaahhhh.. Gideon went for round two. Bluuuaaaahhhh. And round three.
Christine, the mom, sat in the back seat in between the tag team hurlers as pale as though she had just seen Gustav, the legendary crocodile. (See earlier blog about this from this month).
By the time we reached the border several hours later the whole family was ill. All 6 of them. Graciously, Balela thanked me for driving the 5 straight hours to help them catch the bus on the Tanzania side as he nearly collapsed on the ground from the motion sickness.
Mission accomplished. I think. I had achieved the goal, and in record time, but left everyone reeling in the process. I learned a valuable leadership lesson. It doesn't matter if you make it to the top of the summit if you're all alone. No one will be there to share the victory with you.
Sadly, I think it is all too easy to create a similar spiritual motion sickness. We build our personal dreams and agendas at any cost forgetting one all important ingredient- people. I will never forget my mentor Mr. R.K. telling me several years after this incident, "build people not projects or programs and you will change the world." Yes, we must build the people around us. Invest in their lives. Always keep in mind that we are called to build HIS KINGDOM not ours. And His Kingdom is made of people.
We do this by making Jesus and a deepening relationship with Him the goal.
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