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Hippo Prayers - Seriously!


Fez

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Names have been changed to protect the guilty….

And there is a lesson, albeit a short one at the end, I promise.

Rod is a big guy. Probably 6’3” or so.

He is about 50 years old and has legs that bow so much I think he might have to walk through most doors sideways. He has worked the great outdoors all his life, and his boots look like extensions to his amazing bendy legs. For all that he has a rather effeminate voice. But don’t let that fool you. He has a turn of phrase that would make a sailor blush.

His boss Carl, is the opposite in appearance. He is about 5’5” with his boots on, and is built like a rain barrel. When I first saw them coming through the smoke of the fire the other day (more on that later), I thought, “Where on earth did Rod find a monkey out here?”

They are such an unlikely combination (but they know their stuff when it comes to fighting bush fires).

So Rod phones me late on Wednesday and say “Fez, we have a @#$%^ run away fire that has jumped the break and is in the Park”. This is serious stuff because I am responsible for these fires, controlled burns or otherwise. My first thought is “Infrastructure in the way?” My second thought is “Rustle , Rustle I can hear the $’s beginning to get restless”. Fighting fires is not cheap, especially if you have to call in Mad Max, our local water bomber pilot. He thinks every fire is a bombing run over a Taliban stronghold, and the lower, the more accurate.

Except not.

Many an occasion I have hid behind a tree while a ton of misaimed water bears down on me and Rod is standing defiantly in the open shaking his fist at the plane and screaming “you %$#@, can’t you see the #$%^ smoke!” Oh well he’s the one that gets wet every time…..

So I arrive at the fire site and am relieved to see I am not about to be attacked by smoke mad monkey, and Rod and Carl are already there.

The fire is on the opposite side of a large drainage line surrounded by thick bush. The bridge over the drainage line is down. We can’t drive to the site.

There is about 110 years of fire fighting experience between us. Which is a polite way of saying we are all, well, older. We don’t like to walk too far….. Rod starts swearing. It’s sort of like the fuel that keeps him going.

We take a fire team of 15 Zulu women with us, with beaters, knapsack sprays, etc. (Zulu women work much harder and are more reliable than the men folk – chalk one up for the ladies).

We get across the downed bridge Ok and turn the corner to face the fire. It is not that big but is roaring through the dry winter grass. The team starts tackling the blaze and we decide we need to back burn in front of the fire. This means we have to walk back to our vehicles, drive a few miles on the only track, loop back and set the back burn. Rod starts swearing.

We walk back to the drainage line and begin to cross the broken bridge. I notice movement to my right, where Carl is doing his balancing act on the broken bridge timbers. I think it is Carl because it is sort of short and round. But this is grey, not the red parka he was wearing. There is a lot of smoke.

Rod starts….nope…not this time. Squealing like a little girl. Strange sound from such a big object.

The hippo is about 60 ft away and coming with intent up the drainage line at us. Hippos do most things with intent. Horrible animals, bad tempered with piggy little eyes. I am not fond of hippos. Its mouth is stretched open in aggressive mode, and all I can see is teeth and tusks.

We dive off the embankment on the other side and start running. As best we could in a swamp…

Carl looks like a small bush pig snuffling through the water, I am dancing from plant to plant like a ballerina, and Rod is sort of well, it’s hard to explain… His bandy legs look like two giant springs as he sort of bounces along like a demented kangaroo with mud flying behind him as he goes….

All we needed was Mad Max to drop a ton of dirty river water on our heads from one of his misplaced attack runs to complete the scene. (Seriously, he listens to the soundtrack of Apocalypse Now on his headset. He never answers the radio. Wonder why?)

Rod has reverted to swearing mode. I start to laugh. (A good way to die, laughing).

The hippo is now on the top of the embankment looking for us. (Not such good eyesight, hippos)

I am laughing because I am nervous, and because Rod has run a gambit of swearing including the government, fires, hippo’s, the fact that he will be late picking his wife up from work, &*3^# swamps, the fact that his boots were full of mud, and that he does not get paid enough for this @#$%!.

The hippo is swiveling its head like a missile launcher looking for a target. It can hear us but can’t see us so well, except perhaps for Rod bouncing up and down in the swamp every now and again.

We moved like 16 year olds….

I decide now would be a good time to pray. I am laughing, scared, exhilarated, wondering if I am going to get eaten, hoping Mad Max is not lurking above on one of his bombing runs, trying to keep the hippo in sight while being entranced by the boot clad, swearing kangaroo in front of me, being chased by what looked like a bush pig in a red parka.

So I pray. “Jesus help us now”. That was all I had, seriously, no time for worship, thanks, petitions, supplications. No time to sit at the foot of the cross and talk. Just “Jesus help us now”.

You see, when you stay close to Jesus all the time, every second of every day, sometimes long prayers are not necessary in times of trouble.

A short “hippo’ prayer will suffice.

Because he knows your heart. As confused, scared, exhilarated, and multi directional as it may be.

The hippo turned back and went down the side of the embankment it had come from.

Rod never stopped swearing until I left to go home…

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Wow! is all I can say! And Praise Him for delivering you all from danger! He is always there for us.

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Wow! is all I can say! And Praise Him for delivering you all from danger! He is always there for us.

I can only agree. So happy that you guys are safe. God is AWESOME!

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Wonderful...just wonderful.... :)

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Thank you Jesus. Fez,my ramblings about grandbabies and zucchini bread must bore you to tears!!!! I seen a possum on my back porch, so I went out the front door. I was afraid it would get after me..A HIPPO !!!OH MY!!!!!

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So I pray. “Jesus help us now”. That was all I had, seriously, no time for worship, thanks, petitions, supplications. No time to sit at the foot of the cross and talk. Just “Jesus help us now”.

You see, when you stay close to Jesus all the time, every second of every day, sometimes long prayers are not necessary in times of trouble.

A short “hippo’ prayer will suffice.

Because he knows your heart. As confused, scared, exhilarated, and multi directional as it may be.

My day at work on Wednesday was boring :37: compared to yours. Actually I can probably pick any day at my work and it will stack boring against any of your ordinary days.

So glad you and your colleagues are safe and well. Thank you for sharing this amazing experience and for the nugget that when one is close to Jesus, hippo prayers will suffice. That was enormously helpful. God bless you, Fez.

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Glad to hear everyone is ok. :cool:

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If you build with a crooked cornerstone, how you gonna make it stand?

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I had a nasty experience today, too. WalMart was out of the brand of butter I use! And you, Fez, thought you had a harrowing day!

OK, seriously, Great story once again. I appreciate the colorful way you recount pieces of your life. Thank you!

(How's South doing?)

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:24: You ought to make a movie of your adventures!
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Wow what a story! I am so glad that you all are OK though! Stay away from the hippos! And from the fires at that!

Thanks for sharing Fez!

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