Last month after preaching throughout southern Africa for four weeks, I discussed with those on our team about the possibility of taking a couple of days prior to returning to the US and going to see the mission that Robert Moffat had established in Kuruman, South Africa, between 1818-70. We all agreed to make the journey, and after 14 hours on the road, we arrived at the mission on a Saturday. We were able to secure housing there on the property in a nice comfortable room. We then spent all day Saturday, meeting some of the staff and local pastors, as well as visiting the sites on campus that had historical value.
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As I spent time reminiscing over all the events that took place over 150 years ago on this hallowed ground, I couldn't help but think of all the hurt that had been felt by those giants of this missionary land. The many heartbreaks that were endured to see the Word of God established in this darkened land were nearly unimaginable. The seeds of the gospel had been watered by the tears of these saints. Then I thought of a wounded Livingstone that had come to this mission to find rest and healing, and had instead found love. He had no doubt over months of recovering found a balm for his body and soul through the tenderness and care of Mary Moffat. He also, found a life-long companion and friend that would complete him and help him to penetrate the interior of Africa with the saving grace of Jesus Christ.
One of the most moving experiences of our stay was musing though the cemetery where men, women, and children who had left their countries behind for the gospel were laid to rest on this distant soil. The names of children will be forever etched in my memory, as I sat alone thinking of mothers who sobbed over the sacrifices they had made for the souls of Africans. I visited the house where the printing press that Moffat that used to print the first of all African Bibles into the Setswana language, a
project that to him more than 30 years. I had an opportunity to preach that Sunday in the old Stone Church that he had built in 1838. I toured a house called the "Livingstone House" where David had come to recuperate from his well-recorded "Lion Attack" in 1845. It was while spending time here in Kuruman recovering from that awful wound that he fell in love with the eldest daughter of Moffat, Mary. It was also, nearby under an almond tree in a lovely garden, that he proposed to Mary, and later that year be wed to her in the Stone Church.
.JPG)
As I spent time reminiscing over all the events that took place over 150 years ago on this hallowed ground, I couldn't help but think of all the hurt that had been felt by those giants of this missionary land. The many heartbreaks that were endured to see the Word of God established in this darkened land were nearly unimaginable. The seeds of the gospel had been watered by the tears of these saints. Then I thought of a wounded Livingstone that had come to this mission to find rest and healing, and had instead found love. He had no doubt over months of recovering found a balm for his body and soul through the tenderness and care of Mary Moffat. He also, found a life-long companion and friend that would complete him and help him to penetrate the interior of Africa with the saving grace of Jesus Christ.He might have come to Kuruman with a limp, but he left with a leap. He found strength and courage to continue the hard path that God had called him to trek. He had indeed found healing. He was mended by more than simply a doctors medicine, rather he was "mended by love".
