And Then Came A Lion (Lions and Lambs Book 1)

by Cecilia Marie Pulliam

  Phillip signaled for their attention. “Dr. Forrester hasn’t yet arrived from Triangle and dinner is delayed.” He held up his hands. “Don’t worry, the cooks are bringing out drinks and snacks.”

  An hour later, just after dark, the lights of a vehicle wove along the roadway toward the compound. Conversations stopped and the cook staff quickly finished the last details of the evening meal.

  Susannah liked Dr. Forrester. He was a good man, gentle in spirit, intelligent and quick to smile, which radiated regardless of his mood or circumstances. Like the natives, he had some secret that Susannah wished he would share.

  The meal was another amazing five course, English style dinner, from which Susannah swore she’d never recover. Afterward, all staff and volunteers gathered around the fire. Susannah remained a respectful distance, setting her chair a little further back than the rest. There was, after all, a huge difference between a spiritual fire and a real one.

  Dr. Forrester joined them and the conversation naturally turned to religion. Dr. Forrester answered a question from Carol.

  “None of the saints expected to live world-changing lives. Remember, it is through those the world considers broken, weak, or ignorant, that God reveals profound truths.

  “There is one truth no one wants to believe, or few do. I know, you all believe our home is heaven, it is our true reward, and yet, what is the first thing we pray for when faced with danger? We beg for our lives to be saved in order to continue our existence, here, in this world.

  “St. Paul said heaven is beyond human description, a place, or existence, so overwhelmingly beautiful, he spent the rest of his life running toward it. Yes, running toward his death. I repeat. St. Paul ran toward his death.

  “Now I am not saying he was suicidal. There’s a difference between wanting to be with God and taking your own life. Paul did not choose when or how he was to die, but Paul was not afraid of death. He knew what was waiting for him when he finished his race, as he called his life, an apt description, by the way. Life is a race, when lived correctly. We all should be racing with joy toward God and our death ― in God’s timing, not ours, of course.

  “There are horrible tragedies in this world, unspeakable cruelties, and we should work diligently to eradicate those and ease suffering. No one wants to face a horrible death. Scripture is filled with instances where God saved His children from terrible suffering, but if we truly believed in a glorious life after death, we wouldn’t be going to extremes to keep this life, would we?”

  He raised his hands. “I can see from your faces you still haven’t grasped what I am saying. The manner of our deaths, and of others, is a concern, and we should strive, as I said, to alleviate suffering wherever and however we can. Yet, when someone passes from this world into the next, we not only mourn our loss of their company, we mourn their loss of this world.

  “Now, stop a moment and think about that. If we believe heaven is beyond anything we can imagine, why do we think staying here, in this flawed world filled with misery, is better than being with God? Meditate on that during your prayer time.”

  He stood. “Now, it’s been a long day. Let’s all get to bed.”

  A lion roared somewhere out beyond the river. Native drums echoed from the next village, answered by another and then another. Lions, African drums, and a canopy of stars did seem like a scene right out of the movies. Would this movie have a happy or sad ending? Better yet, was it going to be a horror movie or an adventure?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Again, a staff member knocked on the women’s chalet door long before daylight. “Susannah and Barbara, you’re traveling north with Dr. Forrester this morning. You have a half hour to pack before breakfast.”

  Susannah felt as though she had just gotten into bed. How in the world did these people keep up this grueling schedule? The biting cold added to her reluctance.

  With a groan, she slid from the warm bed, shivered into her clothes, and hurried toward the dining hut. Coffee was a necessity as much for the warmth as the caffeine.

  The horizon showed only faint light as they pulled out, and Susannah couldn’t yet tell if the day would be sunny or cloudy. Surely, at some point the temperatures would even out and stay moderate, right? Sounded like life, never staying in one mode or the other. Either it was crazy, scary or boring, rarely in between.

  Dr. Forrester and Barbara sat up front in the old Land Rover. Susannah sat in the back with the guide. The mission van followed, loaded with supplies and other volunteers.

  The vehicles, like the chalets, rarely had heaters, and the staff used blankets to keep warm. Dr. Forrester preferred not to use his blanket and gave it to Susannah. Between her coat and the double blankets, she managed to stop shivering, barely. Ironically, by noon she would be shedding her coat and wishing she could change into a light blouse and shorts.

  Regardless of the discomfort of the predawn travel, Susannah loved seeing the animals. Giraffe walked among the Acacia and zebra grazed in the open grasslands with herds of wildebeests. The delicate Impala, with soft, doe-like eyes, seemed to be everywhere, and then, the funny little pigs, the warthogs. The animated little animals were fun to watch.

  Occasionally, in some of the more remote areas, she was lucky enough to catch sight of a stalking leopard or cheetah, and then there were the elephants. How did such enormous animals hide in so little cover? They literally disappeared until an experienced guide pointed them out.

  After the sun gained altitude, the animals disappeared into the shadows beneath trees and into thick brush to escape the heat. Only after sunset did the activity increase to predawn levels. Susannah toyed with the idea of a nocturnal walk, until she heard a lion roaring and rethought the idea.

  They turned off the paved road onto yet another dirt track. Immediately a thick layer of fine, almost silt-like dust formed billowing clouds around and behind the vehicles. The temperature rose, and with no breeze, the air became stifling hot, certainly not the glamorous missionary life the movies portrayed. Then, she had another purpose for being there, didn’t she, or did she? So far, there wasn’t anything but miles and miles of rough roads, endless hours spent at sorting and distribution tables, along with some lessons in spirituality from Dr. Forrester. Was that why she’d come, to increase her spiritual knowledge and strengthen her faith? Was that her challenge? He had mentioned saving children. Was that through the distribution of food and clothing, or something else? Whatever the case, she’d had enough choking dust, heat, jarring potholes, and ruts.

  Either it was too hot or too cold. Why couldn’t there be middle ground? In fact, why couldn’t she have middle ground with everything in her life? Why did it have to be either sorrow or joy? Couldn’t there be a little of both?

  That wasn’t really what she wanted. She wanted the impossible. She wanted God to take away all the sorrow and leave only the joy.

  ***

  Susannah crawled out of the Range Rover. The drive was long, but what greeted her lifted her tired spirit. The mission, an oasis of manicured lawns, trees, and stone Chalets, sat beside a shimmering lake. Hippos and crocodiles crowded the sunlit shores and shallows. Geese bobbed along in deeper water, well away from the crocs. Impala and kudu stood along the perimeter. Birds twittered from trees and flew their intricate patterns over the water. Monkeys chattered and hopped from branch to branch.

  And, it got even better. The chalets were a marked improvement over the last. The rooms were spacious, the beds had far fewer valleys, and each room had a large window facing toward the lake.

  The group gathered around Dr. Forrester.

  “You can go anywhere, except near the water. Do not get closer than twenty feet to the lake’s edge. Large crocs lay in the shallows, just under the surface, and they will charge if you get too close. Be alert, aware, and keep a respectable distance.” He waved his hand. “Dismissed.”

  Susannah followed Barbara over to large tables piled high with clothing and books.

  The woman ove
rseeing the sorting gestured at the piles. “Clothing is sorted by gender, then size. As you can see, the largest piles are for children. The books are divided by subject and then distributed according to interest.”

  Susannah picked up the first small shirt. It was hard to imagine anything but a doll wearing it. Then, Molly and Billy were tiny when they were first born. It had been a thrill to hold them, how much more to hold her own child? The child would not be biological, but adopted. Would that be almost the same? Did God intend for her to have even that? Then, she’d need a husband and God had seen fit to take hers.

  She folded the tiny garment and set it aside. If following God’s will was always best, why did it sometimes hurt so much?

  ***

  At sunset, Dr. Forrester and his entourage returned and all the staff and volunteers gathered by the fire. Susannah half listened to the conversations, lulled into a semi-conscious state by fatigue and the fire’s warmth.

  She glanced at the sky. It had gone from light to dark within seconds and millions upon millions of stars appeared. Amazing how fast night came in the bush. Twilight was almost non-existent.

  Hippos grunted out in the lake and a croc glided by the shoreline, its eyes illuminated red orbs in the firelight. Moments like this made Africa not such a bad idea, but then, it was these moments that caused her heart to ache for a companion to share it with, someone she loved with all her heart, like Mark.

  The cook called them to dinner, another five-course feast. If it wasn’t for all the hard work and travel, she’d be waddling to her bed at least ten pounds heavier after each meal. Turning down the offer of more coffee, Susannah hurried off to her chalet. Her bones ached, in fact, even her hair hurt.

  ***

  The next morning heavy winds pushed large waves over the shoreline and pelted rain with intense fury against the chalet’s windowpanes. Susannah peered out at the dark clouds scudding across the horizon.

  “Are you sure Dr. Forrester is expecting us to go out this weather? Wouldn’t it be more prudent to wait until the storm passes?”

  Barbara laughed. “Except, if you want any breakfast you have to walk over to the dining area, and if you can go out for physical food, you go out for the spiritual.”

  “Can I opt for room service?”

  Barbara grabbed her coat from the hook and handed it to her.

  “Guess not.”

  Susannah pulled her coat tight and plunged out the door behind Barbara.

  Most of the other volunteers were half running, half walking toward the little chalet dedicated as a chapel. A few walked slowly apparently unaware, or unconcerned about the lashing rain. Susannah decided they were just too proud to show how miserable they were. She, on the other hand, was not proud, and tried to sandwich in between a large group, half hoping she would get some relief from the wind and rain amongst other bodies. It didn’t work. She still shivered when she slipped through the door and settled into a shockingly cold seat. The chapel didn’t have any heat either. She stifled a groan and pulled her coat tighter.

  After several hymns, Dr. Forrester gave a short homily. “Love is a sacrifice. A sacrifice of our wills, our pleasures, our egos, and sometimes our lives to God’s will. Through our faith and trust in Him, God will strengthen us through every trial. He will give us everything we need to accomplish our tasks, to fulfill His will.

  “We first need to remember, all things created by God are good, for He loves even those who perpetrate evil. Every day, we see the ravages of poor choices, sin, for those of you with a more traditional view, and the chaos it creates, and yet, He commands us to love our neighbor ― and our enemies ― as ourselves.

  “We must judge only the act, not the one responsible. Remember the Good Thief at the Crucifixion. I call you to commit yourselves to Him ― in all things. Amen.”

  The group answered with a hearty amen, drawing a laugh from the doctor. “Which are you saying such a hale amen to, the end to my sermon or the message?”

  The group exited the building among non-committal chortles.

  Barbara huddled close. “Are you okay?”

  Susannah shrugged. “How do you obtain peace with monsters that hurt others, especially children? How can anyone separate that act from the man?”

  “It’s hard, and it is the very reason Jesus said the road to heaven is rough and narrow, while the road to perdition is wide and easy.”

  “I’ve tried to come to terms with some horrible things, and I say the words, but they are hollow and empty. I don’t know how to mean it.”

  “Make an appointment with Dr. Forrester for a counseling session. He has a degree in psychology, as well as theology, and many of us go to him for help over personal issues.”

  “Really? He’s a counselor too?"

  “Not really a counselor, more of a spiritual advisor. I know he could help you, Susannah. He really does have a gift.”

  They followed the others to the dining area. Several members of the group were already in the midst of a heated discussion.

  Susannah stopped in the doorway. “Wow, I don’t want to get into the middle of that.”

  Barbara shook her head. “Me either.”

  The two women collected their food and wove their way back to the entrance where it was relatively isolated.

  Susannah shivered. “No wonder these seats are open. It’s freezing over here.”

  “Yeah, amazing how even a portion of a wall seems to hold in the heat. But, I’d rather shiver than get in the middle of that.” Barbara gestured at the highly animated participants of the escalating conversation.

  Carol’s voice raised an octave. “I say a barrage of correspondence to our elected officials will help.”

  Rodger shook his head, “Only during elections. Otherwise, it is business as usual. Whatever butters their bread. I think we should have more evangelistic speaking engagements. Bring back the old fire and brimstone preaching.”

  Janet broke in. “I think action is far more effective. We should continue the directive of the missions, spread humanitarian acts, and by example share the Gospel.”

  Barbara leaned close. “What are your thoughts, Susannah?”

  “Something silly.”

  “Try me.”

  “Starfish.”

  “Ah yes, the story of the boy and the starfish. That’s a good point. Helping each individual where and however we can is all that really matters. Care to point that out to the group?”

  “Absolutely not!”

  “Coward.”

  “Of the highest degree.”

  Barbara studied her for a moment. “I think not.”

  Susannah drew her coat closer and changed the subject. “I hate these extremes. One moment we’re freezing our bottoms off, the next we’re losing five pounds in sweat. I don’t know how the natives cope.”

  “No choice.”

  “Well true, yet they seem so happy? What’s their secret?”

  “Do you really want to know?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “They don’t look beyond today, in every sense. On the one hand, it’s good for their overall attitude, not so good when it extends to vehicle maintenance, building maintenance, and other things.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “Wish I were. Did you notice all the buildings in disrepair? The stories you’ve heard are true, unless educated in Western cultures, the natives do not correlate maintenance with operation. They run it until it quits and then abandon it. Those with European educations know different, but it is slow process.”

  “Interesting. Well, in keeping with that philosophy, my current circumstance says I need more coffee. What about you?”

  “Yeah, I’m ready.” Barbara stood up and followed Susannah over to the beverage bar. “Sunrise certainly didn’t bring any warmth this morning. Wonder if the rain is going to last all day.”

  Dr. Forrester joined them. “Coffee is certainly a necessity this morning. How are you ladies today, other than cold?”


  Barbara nodded toward the larger group. “Keeping away from the current argument, I mean, discussion.”

  The Doctor dumped several spoons of coffee crystals into his cup, poured in hot water, stirred, and added in both milk and sugar. Susannah had expected he’d drink it black.

  He gestured toward the table. “Let’s sit a moment.”

  They moved back to their semi-isolated seats.

  “I do not intend to make you uncomfortable, Susannah, but intuition tells me the spiritual world is far closer to you than to most of us.”

  Susannah stared into her coffee. “Why would you say that?”

  “We all feel it, Susannah. There is something different about you and I think you are dealing with a host of things none of us can comprehend. I might be able to help, if you’ll allow me.”

  She shrugged.

  Standing, he picked up his coffee. “Just think about it. Well, good day ladies, I best attend to some earthly matters.”

  ***

  Susannah spent the rest of the morning helping the women sort a new shipment of supplies. At least the day remained cool and heat did not add to the misery of tired, aching feet, and shoulders.

  At noon, Carol called a halt for lunch.

  After the blessing, a cacophony of conversations erupted along the long table, a continuation of the earlier discussion. As with breakfast, the participants reached no consensus, agreeing only to continue searching for ways to convert the world.

  As a semi-outsider, Susannah could tell them they were changing the world, one person, and one family at a time. The missions were doing wonderful humanitarian work, and were living examples of faith in action, but she held her tongue.

  With a deep sigh, she stood, carried her plate to the sideboard, and laid it among the other dirty dishes. She poured another cup of coffee and ambled over toward the lake, staying well back from the shore as instructed.

  The heavy cloud cover lifted and bits of blue sky appeared, accompanied by shafts of sunlight. Hippos and crocs crowded into the sunlight, and the white geese returned. Monkeys chattered in the thick foliage. Birds Susannah couldn’t identify darted back and forth. A cloud of circling buzzards marked a death site.