Camoflauge

One of the “must do’s” of living in South Africa is visiting African animals in their “natural habitats”. This generally means going through the many game reserves with your eyes peeled for animals so large you would never suspect them hard to see. South Africans do this often, spending lots of weekends in places like Pilansburg, Kruger National park or any of the many private game parks to get a good look at what hunters and safarians call “the big 5”. These 5; the lion, the water buffalo, the elephant, the cheetah and the rhino are hardest for hunters to capture and kill, so they are the animals one is looking for on these weekend drives through the bush.

Now, I have spent time in many many zoos. I’ve seen all these animals (save the African water buffalo) up close behind the glass. They are large and amazing creatures to behold in any setting. My expectations for seeing these animals out in the wild was really very low. Once you’ve seen them, you’ve seen them; right? I had no understanding of the excitement in the eyes of those telling stories about animals coming “so close you could touch them…” nope, I totally did not get it.

And then we took an overnight trip to Pilansburg. With John sick in the back seat, the kids rumbling around in their pajamas (early mornings are best for animal watching; so we left our little animals in their pjs and loaded them into the car) I had absolutely no anticipation whatsoever. Figured the kids would last about 45 minutes before they were ready for breakfast and their clothes changed; figured John wouldn’t quite last that long with a fever and kids who wanted to jump on and around him while he attempted to remain conscious, poor man.

Upon seeing our first rhino I started to get it. Catching a glimpse of the zebras in the bush helped me get it a little more. And by the time we saw our first elephant I got it for sure. This was amazing. This was thrilling. This was telling; and worth telling someone about.

You know, it isn’t really the majesty of the animals. They are majestic, and impressive and all of that. But it isn’t the animals themselves. It is the way the animals become part of their surroundings. It is the down right incredible lesson that God made them perfectly for the place where they live. He did it to help them, and in doing it the way he did He shows us more about some of the ways He helps us.

When you drive around the bush, high golden grasses all over, rolling hills and stubby trees to boot, It looks vast and pretty desolate. This time of year, as the grasses haven’t turned green and growing the scene is kind of bleak. Things look dead and well, empty out there. So, where are all those giant animals? Why in all the emptiness of those plains can the eye not see a ginormous giraffe or an enormous elephant walking about, doing its thing? Nowhere I tell you, they are no where to be seen; but then wait…

It is a little off in the distance, but there, on the hill, is a huge grey boulder; or not. Holy cow, that is an elephant! And what just moved in the field over there? Not a deer or a cat, but a black and white zebra; I swear he wasn’t there just a minute ago. Oh my gosh, he’s not alone, there are a dozen zebras in that field; right in front of my face. How did I not see them standing there, playing with their babies, eating the tall yellow grass? They are black and white for heaven sakes, and nothing black and white is in this vast and desolate landscape; how on earth did I miss them?

It is amazing to see that these animals, all of whom I have seen out of context behind the glass of a zoo cage, become more than majestic in their natural setting. They become miracles of creation. A lesson to us all the God did not make his creatures without giving them every advantage to have joy in their existence; camoflauge, the ability to live, to have a family, to exist under difficult conditions. He did it perfectly well, and because I’ve seen it I appreciate Him all the more (oh, and I appreciate those elephants and zebras more too).

I wonder what the miracles of my own little life have been; I mean it isn’t as if I’ve not noticed many of them. But I wonder if some other worldly spectator were given the chance to observe this creation in her natural habitat, what other miracles would they see? What are my stripes, the things that keep me from my enemies, the distinct gifts of nature that make my existence majestic and magnificent when seen by the observing eye?

I hope I become as keen to the creators gifts to me and mine as I felt I was that day in Pilansburg. I’m sure, for all the love He has for his animals in that park, He has no less love for each of us. Perhaps someday, if I look at it with more careful eyes and a desire to see these gifts given me in my own natural habitat, I’ll feel that same sense of wonder and awe I witnessed the day in the game park. I hope anyway, ,I really do hope.