My Thoughts, Coming on the board of Hippo Valley Christian Mission

I wanted to set down on paper how much it means to me to be coming on the board of Hippo Valley Christian Mission to bless the kingdom work in Zimbabwe. I don't know where to begin except to describe to you the last time I was at Dine. We had discovered that there was a contract on my Dad's life and we had to get out with what we could pack and transport in one load. We literally left dishes in the cupboard and books on the shelves and clothes in the closets, but the Lord covered us with his protection and we moved temporarily into Fort Victoria.

The last time we flew into Dine was only to go in and out quickly. I wanted to get a camera case I had left in my closet. Mom and Dad had some things to cover with the staff. Dad left the airplane parked on the hanger pad, turned ready to take off in a hurry if we had to. But people kept coming... and coming... to say goodbye! We had not announced that we were coming, but people heard the airplane and came. Had the Komane also heard the airplane? But so many wanted to say goodbye. We couldn't get away. In the end, we gathered in a circle on the hanger pad (where the church meets today) and sang, "Ave nemwe tionanezve." God be with you till we meet again. The people were normally very stoic but we all broke down and were crying. Someone would manage to keep the chorus going while others dropped in and out as they could collect themselves. We climbed in the airplane, Dad revved the engine and we did a short take off from mid-field. I looked back and fell into sobs as I saw that classic view of the kopjes at the end of the field for the very last time.

The other day my mom said how very proud she and dad were of me for, as she put it, "caring about the people at Dine." That entails doing what is necessary to raise the funds to rebuild the clinic at Dine, of course, but it entails more than that.

My mom and Dad were able to go back to Dine in 1982, six years after that day we left in 1976. They said that they just put the word out that they were there and they wanted to visit with people. They just wanted to hear their stories and encourage them in their faith. As they listened, they were amazed at what the people had gone through, the persecution and how the church had to go underground for awhile, but how strong their faith, their joy and hope in the Lord continued through it all. It touched my parents deeply because they felt like they had left their children without a shepherd when we had to depart so suddenly, but their children had grown up and the gospel was strong.

Al, the executive director of Hippo Valley Christian Mission, said something to me the other day about all of the options for going back to visit the mission where I grew up, maybe a VBS, but you know what I want? I want to go and do like my parents did, to sit around the campfire in the evening and listen to people's stories and encourage them in their faith. To attend school room classes in session and love on the kids. To sit down with pregnant mothers to be and encourage them to raise their children in the Lord. Yes, rebuild the clinic, but most of all, care about the people at Dine. And I want to show my husband where I grew up.

So, that is what it means to me. It has been a long time for me to wait to come back home, but now is the right time as it always is in God's loving hands.

For more information or to contribute see: dine clinic

Blessings, Donna (Burris) Stroop