Africa-Part One: Musings From the Couch

Recently I found myself looking up sleeping sickness symptoms. I had been home from Africa for three days and still had stuff lying all over the house. Everywhere except on the couch. That seems to have become my new home.

In addition to extreme fatigue, the CDC says to look for a possible fever, severe headaches, irritability, skin rash, progressive confusion . . . .  I guess I’m OK. Fatigue is the only symptom I identify with. Except maybe progressive confusion, but I didn’t have to travel to get that.

The CDC has records of only 40 cases of sleeping sickness from East Africa since 1967. Very few tsetse flies carry the infection. And though I did possibly get bit by one or two on a safari, the odds are pretty slim I’ve contracted trypanosomiasis. Good thing, because death in a few months is certain if left untreated.

Last month I headed east to Tanzania on a mission trip. They say jet lag is worse traveling across time zones in that direction. I guess God’s grace, my focus on the mission, awesome teammates and hosts, and a lot of adrenaline helped me overcome most of those ill effects during the 17-day mission. For the most part I kept up fairly well.

But travel homeward has benched me. When Bonnie asks me if I’m feeling better, I say, “I’ll tell you after one more nap.” 

A week after returning, I mustered up enough energy to go over to my church to do some fall cleanup on the landscape. As soon as I bent over to pull weeds, my back went out. I lay on the ground for 15 minutes before I managed to crawl to my nearby car and grab some ibuprofen. After it kicked in I drove home, hobbled up the front steps, and returned to—yes, you guessed it—the couch.

It seems I was far more successful at “planting seeds” in Africa then pulling weeds in Fort Thomas. Under the blazing equatorial sun, I dug post holes and climbed up and down ladders carrying roofing materials for a church we built. I preached, evangelized, and played running games with energetic kids. Three weeds in the shade at home, though, and I’m done.

After a week at home, I still felt weak and wobbly from jet lag and travel fatigue, and now I was shuffling around the house with a sore back. There are many things I wanted to do before the cold hits, but they’re not happening. My to-do list has been temporarily shelved and the chores are piling up.

The truth is, though, I wouldn’t change a thing. This was possibly a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. One I’m glad I didn’t miss.

The whole mission trip idea started for me three years ago when my friend Brian (he’s been mentioned a lot in my blogs lately, and might start billing me) went on a mission trip to Africa with the Bridge Church in Alexandria. I half-seriously said maybe the team would take me on the next one. The “next one” came a year later, and I got an invite.

I don’t remember my excuse, but I declined. However, I did become a part of the mission trip by working a couple of jobs beforehand with Brian to help him raise money for his expenses. And I promised to pray for the team. I guess that helped because they managed to get back one day before the COVID lockdown.

Yes, God can use me right here in Fort Thomas. With my wife, home, and couch, I convinced myself I was OK about not going along. Kind of like convincing myself that Reese’s Cups are a health food or exercise can be dangerous.

Last spring Brian asked me if I wanted to go with the team to Tanzania. I said thanks for asking but I was happy with my local ministry. My mission field was East Fork State Park with Campers for Christ. Anyway, if God wanted me to go I would hear his voice audibly.

During the summer, Brian mentioned the trip would be in October. Now I was really off the hook. It coincided with my wife’s 50th high school reunion. I couldn’t desert her in her time of need. Besides, I love large social gatherings full of people I don’t know.

Two months before departure, the dates were changed due to a scheduling conflict with pastors on the Tanzanian side of the trip. I had no excuse left. Or did I?

I am not a world traveler. What could I contribute at my age, anyway? I had an apple cart that I didn’t want to upset; I wasn’t sure what I’d find under the apples.

Brian didn’t pressure me—he hadn’t before—but he mentioned some aspects of the trip he knew I would like. Building a church, working with excited kids who really wanted to be there, and going on a safari, to name a few.

There was another reason to go, however. The trip now fell at a time when I was totally free from any other responsibilities. Though it took Bonnie some time to warm up to the idea, she’s always supportive when God calls me to do something. No voice from above, but now all signs pointed east to the other side of the globe.

I said yes, and the rest is history.

That history is the trip itself. Details to follow. I need a nap.