' Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life. ' Proverbs 13:12
Today I had scheduled myself to write about my climb up Mount Toubkal in Morocco. But yesterday everything changed. A moment in time that crept up unexpectantly. A change of guard that I should have seen coming considering I was very aware that this year is about ending well, finishing strong, fulfilling the long waited for promises and beginning new, fresh, better things.
Above is an image of the jacaranda trees blooming in Bulawayo, Zimbabwe. It is very poignant for me because I associate those trees with my childhood. Huge high cathedrals of lavish lilac blossom, carpets of thick velvety purple petals underfoot.
I spent the first years of my life in a country at war with itself and under sanctions by a huge proportion of the rest of the world. My family left around about the time the country gained Independence and a new leader was sworn in to power. That was nearly 40 years ago.
There followed 20 years of relatively peaceful prosperity for Zimbabwe, ( once a tribal uprising in the area around Bulawayo pictured above had been stamped out ! )
Then many years later came the farm invasions and war vets. The hyper inflation of the Zim dollar. I revisited the country and had to use a briefcase to carry around enough money to buy a loaf of bread. Prices in the shops were not set due to the fact the value of the produce changed on an hourly basis because inflation was going up by the minute. I remember cars parked in long queues outside garages, people waiting for days for the next delivery of fuel. The decline dragged on for what felt like a very long time. Then there was new hope, diamonds were found and it looked like Zimbabwe could finally pay her electricity bills. But the money was quickly spent and through one 'democratic election' after another nothing changed.
I however won't go on, I don't think I have the words or the authority to write about the past or the current political situation in Zimbabwe. I was after all part of the 'ruling white minority.' Others have already written essays, books and cleverly crafted articles. The news is changing by the hour and you can follow it all for yourself.
All I will say is that I am emotionally attached to my birthplace. I have invested hours in prayer for this nation. Mine is just a poetic expression of why yesterday's events drew me to tears. An expression of a woman who hasn't lived within the borders of this beautiful, complicated country for decades.
I woke up on Tuesday and turned on the radio in the kitchen as I made my first cup of tea of the day and poured myself a bowl of cereal. I had expected a quiet day filled with gentle routine. As I looked out of my kitchen window, contemplating the grey skies over the garden and the movements of the tractor down in the courtyard, the hourly news came on. I listened in disbelief to the headline news and remembered all the other days of disbelief. Diana's death. Brexit. Trump. I recalled a day in the hot dry desert of Namibia, crouching to sit down on a scorching hot pavement to listen in shock as the BBC World Service crackled from the radio in my hand, telling me the shocking news that the Berlin Wall had just fallen! It felt like a miracle had happened. I couldn't believe it.
And just like that, the impossible is suddenly possible, hope is no longer deferred, years of waiting are ended ...
This second photo is of a street in Harare, Zimbabwe, taken in 1975.
Who knows what will happen next in Zimbabwe? Who will take over the leadership of the country? What will unfold?
All I know is that a stronghold was broken yesterday and fresh water began to flow from what had become a stagnant dried up pool.
Psalm 37: 35, 36
I have seen a wicked man in great power and spreading himself like a green tree in its native soil. Yet he passed away, and behold he was not; yes, I sought and inquired for him, but he could not be found.