Jess Young in Kenya

The Great Suggestion

2009-11-25T09:42:00.000-08:00

Three years ago, in an article entitled “Abandoned Babies Die in Jeddah Streets,” Arab News reported nearly twenty babies—the majority, younger than ten months—deserted within a two month span in this Saudi Arabian city. Several were found dead, and many were rushed to local hospitals where they died soon after.

When an atrocity of this nature comes to public attention, no one would begin to deny the cruelty—even brutality—of such a crime. Certainly this kind of negligence moves beyond selfishness to either insanity or wickedness. There is no person of sound mind that would expect an infant to have the ability to care for himself. For an infant, the result of desertion is death.

It is common knowledge that caring for a child is both exacting and essential; indeed, it takes a great amount of time an effort to prepare an individual—from infancy—for adulthood. However, it seems that this concept somehow does not translate into the spiritual mindset.

The Church seems very eager to create converts, yet quite deficient when it comes to bringing up young believers in the faith. When a person accepts Christ as Savior and Lord—becomes born again—spiritually, that person is an infant, a newborn. The spiritual concept is no different from the physical. Helping a young believer grow will take a great amount of resources, time, and effort. That believer will fall, that believer will frustrate; but without discipleship, that believer will fail.

When the Church chooses to evangelize and fails to disciple, the newborns, which the Church itself chose to aid in birth, are abandoned to “fend for themselves.” In other words, they are left to die. Christians are called to “go and make disciples . . . teaching them to obey” everything Jesus commanded (Matthew 28:19). It is no coincidence that this has come to be called “The Great Commission”; yet, somewhere along the way, believers have diluted it to nothing more than a suggestion.

According to the American Heritage Dictionary, a disciple is one who “embraces and assists in spreading the teachings of another” or “an active adherent, as of a movement or philosophy.” While such a definition may first cause a Christian to evaluate himself, it should also open eyes to the intensity of the calling of Christ—a calling that is directed not only to the pastors and church leaders, but to everyone.

How many times has one heard, sang, taught, preached that there is “no greater calling” than to be a disciple of Christ? Conversely, how many “followers” choose the concepts and responsibilities to which they will adhere? Instead, let us live lives “worthy of the calling [we] have received” (Ephesians 4:1), allowing “the God of peace . . . [to] equip [us] with everything good for doing his will . . . [and] work in us what is pleasing to him” (Hebrews 13:20-21), as we take the Lord at his word, individually agree with everything he has said, and stop leaving the children we have birthed to raise themselves.

"Yes, Lord."

2009-09-19T16:04:00.000-07:00

So, I’ve been in Mombasa, Kenya for eight months now, and I decided to follow Christ wholeheartedly . . . two, three months ago? For a while I was trying to figure out the day exactly—the day I decided it was “all or nothing,” the day I finally said “yes” to God.

Not long ago, I was reviewing some journal entries from my study through Experiencing God. At some point I had stopped—several months back—and I couldn’t remember the reason, so I turned to the last entry: “I cannot say ‘yes.’”

I remember now, the fear that the idea of an emphatic “yes” had carried: “yes” had brought me to Africa—alone; “yes” had separated me from my family and friends—for a year; “yes” was uncomfortable and lonely; “yes” was out of the question.

But as I read that entry, a broad, goofy smile spread across my face. Somewhere within the past few months, Christ changed my heart. He romanced my soul, and I had said “yes.”

There is a deep theological concept here concerning a progression that must occur to transform a person from being a “conditional follower” to one that can pronounce an emphatic “yes” to Christ.

Several weeks ago, I read about an interview with the Nobel Prize-winning author Toni Morrison. When posed the question as to the basis and method of her success, she merely replied, “I am a great writer because when I was a little girl and walked into a room where my father was sitting, his eyes would light up. That is why. . . . There is no other reason.”
Consider the disciples, knowing without a doubt that the God of all creation loved each one of them personally, regardless of anything they were or did. He loved them. When one is truly loved unconditionally, when one has grown in the deepest, most fulfilling, most romantic relationship, there is nothing a person wouldn’t do for the sake of that lover. This is what fueled the disciples through their ministries, what—as tradition testifies—compelled most to their deaths: love. Love for Christ, and why? Because of His great love.

I think, as evangelical Christians, we often become inoculated to the Gospel of Christ, and even to the gospels themselves—reading through the pages, getting caught up in our own agendas concerning politics, theology, or next week’s sermon—and somehow begin to neglect the beauty and truth that lies in the person of Christ Jesus. It is for this reason that we find such difficulty in saying “yes” to Him. It is not that we lack the desire to be like Christ or that we lack the desire to please him. Instead, it is simply our failure to know Him, because to know Him is to love Him. And as Paul reminds the Church in Corinth, “Christ's love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died. And He died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for Him who died for them and was raised again” (II Corinthians 5:14-15). Therefore, to love Him is to say “yes.”

Indeed, “yes” still leaves me here in Africa—alone. “Yes” still leaves me separated from my family and friends—for a year. “Yes” remains uncomfortable and lonely. But the Creator of the universe loves me, and so I am (finally) “compel[led] . . . [to] . . . live for . . . Him who died for [me] and was raised again.” And “the world has yet to see what God can do with and for and through and in a [wo/]man who is fully consecrated to Him” (Henry Varley).

And so the journey began . . . .

You Cannot Stay Where You Are and Go With God

2009-06-14T08:15:00.000-07:00

so, in the study i'm doing, it's starting to talk about surrender to God, and i have honestly not been in the mood to read it. basically, i'm like, "pssh, i'm in africa, how much more surrendered can i be?" so i kept putting off reading it b/c i've already got that area covered. (and also partly b/c i was afraid i'd figure out there was something else God had for me, and i didn't want to know, being already worn out enough just from my physical placement.) so today, i finally decided i need to get on w/ this study after putting it off for a few days, and i didn't really have much else to do b/c i was having (if you ask me) a God-intervened lack of internet connection. halfway through the study, i read this:

"I want Thy plan, O God, for my life. May I be happy and contented whether in the homeland or on the foreign field; whether married or alone, in happiness or sorrow, health or sickness, prosperity or adversity--I want Thy plan, O God, for my life. I want it; oh, I want it!"
-Oswald J. Smith (missionary statesman of Canada)

you could say that i've been feeling pretty burned out lately, being only halfway done and really being ready to come home. i read this and i just wept. i want this to be my prayer. this is not where i am, i'm definitely no david livingstone. reading this was so humbling and helped to remind me of my job here, and how that is first to remain in close relationship to the Lord. nothing can happen if i'm not in close relationship w/ him, "whether in the homeland or on the foreign field." so God reminded me, i can't just wait out this time and expect him to move, i can't just stay here and go with him. it's impossible. so today when i left the house to go visit my friend jemimah at the school, i had this in mind, and the willingness to be serving him again.

it turned out that jemimah is sick, she has ulcers and malaria (please pray for her), and so i had to just return home after sorting a few things for her. i figured i'd have a nice relaxed afternoon and watch a movie or read a book. as i sat down to pride and prejudice, i heard someone knock, and it was a little muslim girl who lives near me. i've tried several times, in vain, to invite her sisters over, but they cannot come, so it was a surprise to see her here. she came in and we had a really nice afternoon, playing uno, listening to shakira, and coloring disney princesses (beauty and the beast transcends all cultures, haha).

after she left, i really thanked God, remembering the need for flexibility and that "in his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps," (proverbs 16:9), which has really been the theme of this last week. when i finally allowed Christ to get my attention, he even brought the opportunity to serve to me.

so my question today is, are you going with God?

A Change of Pace

2009-05-08T01:34:00.000-07:00

Did God "call" me to Kenya? Did God "call" me to work at a high school? Did God "call" me to work with Muslims and nominal Christians? Yes, he did, and you know what's crazy? Are these my passions? Did he send me here to work in my country of choice, working in my job of choice, doing what I'm good at, working with people groups that I have a special passion for? No. He didn't.

Serving God is not about doing for God what we're good at or what we're "passionate" about. It's about serving God. It's about what he wants done. He is working all around us, and he wants us to join, but too often we're to focused on finding our "passion" or our "calling" to see the need in front of us. It is not our job to dream up the amazing things we will do for God. It's our job to listen and go. This has become very evident to me in my ministry here.

I think as Christians, we get really hung up with our jargon. A "calling" sounds so big and amazing. (And saying, "I'm not 'called,'" is the easiest way to get out of something.) But, how "called" did Jesus feel when he was rushed by crowds day after day who were mostly just there for the novelty and the free stuff (boy, can I empathize)? As well, our idea of a "passion" seems just . . . unbiblical. Can I say that? I've been told that when that word is used in the bible it is used only in a negative sense. (Hos 7:6-7, "Their passion smolders all night; in the morning it blazes like a flaming fire. All of them are hot as an oven; they devour their rulers."
1 Cor 7:9 "But if they cannot control themselves, they should marry, for it is better to marry than to burn with passion ." NIV) Where are we getting this idea of "passion," anyway?

So look around. How often do we assume we're not "called," simply because we don't feel "passionate" about something? So we do nothing.

John 9:4:
"As long as it is day, we must do the work of him who sent me. Night is coming, when no one can work."

So, let's get to work!

i'm an emotional psycho and God is good.

2009-03-26T14:14:00.000-07:00

so i'm done with capitalization, just so you know.

after we won district, we trained very hard (2-a-days) for the next two weeks for the provincial tournament. last tuesday we left for matuga (about an hour away from mombasa) on our way to stay at a girl's boarding school there. it was a bit of an...experience. bathing out of buckets, sleeping without mosquito nets, and eating (apparently, though i didn't notice) not the greatest food. on our second night, i was incredibly worn out, having only gotten, at most, 2 hours of sleep the night before (we woke at 4:30 to train). then, through a series of events involving a stolen bucket and a borrowed cell phone i ended up in a dark corner bawling my eyes out and telling God that his sticking me here in africa wasn't a very nice thing to do and that i was really at the breaking point. just a few minutes later a teacher from another school walked by and saw that i was a blubbering mess. she was nearly frantic to make me feel better/stop crying. one thing led to another, and next thing i know i'm talking to some canadian girl on the phone and making plans to meet her on the following saturday. since that night, things have been so much better--not that there won't be hard times. but i've been able to get the focus off myself, which was good because the following day was difficult, we had to send one of the players, mercy, home because her sister, to whom she was very close, had passed away (pray for her). it was so hard on the team. there was a positive aspect that came out of it, however. everyone seemed to realize they were being selfish and unnecessarily negative, and they played their last game truly as a team and with the best attitude i've seen yet.

so, the matuga trip was apparently a turning point for me as well as a sort of "coming out party." previously, i'd been so busy and lazy that i hadn't bothered really getting out of tudor (the area of town where i live). taking matatus (essentially 15 passenger volkswagon vans) just seemed like more trouble than it was worth, and besides, going to town alone is just lame and boring. but friday morning sandra gave me a call (she and ralph are american missionaries here, they are in their early thirties and have 3 kids, ryan, alyssa, and alana. we go to the same church and they house our "life group," but i hadn't had a chance to hang out with them much, yet.) anyhow, they invited me to come to "old town" with them and go to this awesome coffee shop and prayer walk. "Old town" is--surprisingly--the oldest part of mombasa and also the part with the most muslim influence. it's like a movie set with stone/brick streets that are barely wide enough for a single car, and on both sides are tall 3-5 story buildings with out-hanging balconies. after old town i ended up spending the whole day w/ the thompsons, we ate lunch and then sandra and i talked for hours until it got close to supper and she said i should stay and we'd play games after we ate. much like me, she's not the biggest fan of cooking and, apparently, not most talented either. haha...we made pizzas and it took us probably over two hours. it was so much fun--and they didn't turn out badly. we really hit it off, she and i have so much in common and she is so much fun. this is the biggest answer to prayer. i so needed a friend.

then, on saturday, i met the canadian girl, kelly. (this was my first solo matatu mission in mombasa.) i took her to the awesome coffee shop and we went to fort jesus. she has only been in kenya for about two weeks now, so she was meeting her team that afternoon. i ended up hanging out with the team--about 15 various people (british, irish, canadian, and american)working for various ngo's in mombasa and the surrounding areas--all day (geez, they spend a lot of their time in pubs...). and it was so nice to be around other people who want to "save the world." (although a bit wierd because i'd say probably none of them are christians--another part of my mission field? i think so.)

finally, just the other day i was walking to the store and i happened to meet a few muslim ladies who live across the street from me. i said, "hello," and next thing i know i've been hanging out with them for over two hours and it's already dark! they are a very sweet family, and i think i will become very close to two of the daughters, hanan (21) and ahlaam (16). hanan is to come teach sandra and i how to cook indian food sometime soon, and since i live just across the street, i'm thinking they will feel very comfortable coming over, not having to "go out" really.

the Lord is working. i'm so thankful.

So this is home.

2009-03-14T08:08:00.000-07:00

Not gonna lie. I'm finding it difficult to see this place as "home," and I feel like that is imperitive to being "emotionally present." But things are falling into place. My flat is finally settled (it's the second from the top), everything but curtains.

As you may know, I'm helping coach the basketball girls. I love it. They've got me running again most days (and icing my knees most nights). This morning we just did conditioning, so we played football (soccer) and rugby--which I LOVE, pretty sure any game where you get to tackle people is a good game. We've been training really hard (they more than I) and even though they had never even touched a basketball before January, they won district last week! I'm so proud of them, they're just flying through the drills now, and are not nearly as "pansy" as they were when they started out. Not only did they have to get used to basketball, they had to get used to excercise too. Pretty much none of them had run more than several yards before January either. So, tomorrow we're going to the beach to do last minute conditioning before provincials on Tuesday.

As for teaching, I'm sure most of you know, I am not. My work permit has not come through yet, so if you're praying, that would be an excellent thing to pray for. But even when teaching, I've only been given three classes (all freshman); so, obviously I have a lot of free time. I've been spending this week to really pray about what else God wants me to be doing here, and I think I'm going to start volunteering at a library that reaches out to Muslim/Hindu youth and children. (There is a baby monkey outside my window right now.)

If you've talked to me much about my plans to work in Africa, I always planned on living in a hut. That's what I wanted. Instead, the cheapest option I was given to live in has two bedrooms, and I find myself asking God, "What's going on here?!" I feel so comfortable (and drawn to) the "romantic" idea of missions. Working in the slums or just with the very poor. Instead, I'm teaching private school students. As I spent this week trying to figure out where else God can use me, I had a very . . . I'd say providential experience today. I was walking home from the school after practice and I felt compelled to walk down this road--alley, rather. I knew it led to a slightly shady and definitely poor part of the area. (Keeping in mind, this is only blocks away from where I live.) As I was walking, I was asking God how did this area escape me before. I mean, I've been telling God, "I really would like to work in the slums . . ." and they're right there. I'm a missionary for heaven's sake, I'm supposed to notice this business! It is a very small area, surrounded by the fairly well-do-to, or at least comfortable. As I walked through, I talked to some kids for a while, and then passed by a house where a small group of people were taking tea. "Karibu, chai." (Welcome...) and so I was like, why not? I had a seat on a rock and spent about five minutes trying to communicate. Nothing exceptional happened, but I realized that God can use me right here in my neighborhood. If I keep walking through that area (and learning Kiswahili), eventually I'll make friends, and be able to help people and share Christ. So today's lesson, I guess, is don't overlook the needs in your own neighborhood. Apparently, even missionaries do that . . . .

2009-02-19T02:22:00.000-08:00

"
So obviously I’ve been busy and the internet is sketchy right now but I want to let you in on what’s going on here. I’ve fully moved into my flat, all I need is curtains, and God really stretched the money I have so I’m not having to cook over a campfire or sleep on the ground. I’m very comfortable and I thank the Lord that he has really made my flat a refuge for me. At first coming home here felt like I was stepping into some sort of prison, the walls closing in on me here all by myself . . . . So that is an answer to prayer.

Carol, the mzungu missionary that has been working here for 20 years, lives just two floors below me and she has been an immense blessing. A couple weeks ago I came up to my flat (back when it was a prison) and sat down to answer emails. I was reading one from Curtis—which is always a treat—and this overwhelming feeling of loneliness just came over me. I couldn’t even read the email through the tears. I was outright bawling like a dang baby, and I prayed, “Lord please let Carol come up here.” (She had never come up here before, and hasn’t since because I always end up going in her flat since it’s by the stairs and on my way up.) I was at the point where I was considering the repercussions of leaving (dang open ended ticket . . .), really at the point of breaking, snapping, whatever you want to call it. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so terrible. Not two minutes later I heard my doorbell (which I didn’t even know I had), and I got up from the table with my tear-streaked, red-eyed face and answered the door. It was Carol. “Are you ok?” “No-ot rre-al-ly.” (Kinda hard to play “I’ve got it all together” when your eyes are swollen to half-mast and your nose is running like the dang Amazon river.) “What’s the matter?” So long story short I made myself as presentable as possible and we went to eat Chinese and got ice cream and she drove me around, helping me get my bearings of the city, and told me about her big break down moments when she was first here as a short-term missionary. So, another answered prayer.

I am currently teaching CRE (Christian Religious Education), the Old Testament, Computers, and Literature to one student (we’re gonna read Pride and Prejudice and The Importance of Being Earnest, bless his heart, I got to pick). Teaching is not my love, but I’m pressing on. I’m still helping coach the basketball girls and loving it. We have a tournament this Saturday and I really hope they win at least one. Motivation is a difficult trait to instill, but Kimani (the coach) had all but decided that we weren’t going to play on Saturday. The team called a meeting on their own, decided (apparently after many words) that they were gonna suck it up and show some effort. So we’re gonna play. If you’re looking for ways to pray, unity is something you pray for our team. I love working with the girls, it’s my favorite. They have me running up to two and a half miles now, and I think I’m gonna have to start icing my joints. But I love it. Running is one of my favorite outlets and now I have people pushing me to do it. One of the players, Jehmimah—I have no idea how to spell that, you know, as in, “Aunt . . .”—is a real sweet girl. She even came over and helped me clean one afternoon. We end up talking a lot about just whatever. I’m only teaching Form 1 (freshman), and we have to freshman on the team. This has actually turned out to be a good thing, because I’m not actually teaching them, it’s easier to get close to them.
Another BIG reason for prayer: I’m tutoring 2 Muslim students.

I still haven’t found a church, but I went with Carol to her life group last Sunday and loved it. It was so good to be around other strong and seeking believers, even if they are a bunch of Calvinists…haha. Of course, it’s no Equate Death Team, but it is really nice. One of the girls who goes there, Jackie, is a native Kenyan who works with Muslim and Hindu youth and children. I think (since I’m only teaching Form 1’s and I have a lot of extra time during the day at school) I’m gonna start helping her for the rest of the year.

Also, I still need a friend. Not only does living along stink, but not having anyone to really talk to stinks even worse. I love Carol and thank God for her like every day, but she’s probably more of a mother-type figure. She’s a lot of fun and great to go to for advice, but I’d love to have a friend my age. (I miss Melanie! . . . I don’t remotely expect to find someone as awesome as Mel, I don’t think they’re putting out very many models at that level of awesomeness, but I would love a good friend.)

Yet again, thank you for your prayers and emails. I couldn’t be here doing this without you.

Hopefullly getting settled.

2009-02-01T08:48:00.000-08:00

So I’m nearing week four and the beginning of my official work here in Mombasa. I arrived in Mombasa on Saturday evening, January 7th. Since, I have been staying with the principal of the school at which I will be working, Mombasa Baptist High School. This is because the flat whereI will live needed repairs. Also, I have to furnish it myself, and I have yet to be able to do that. Still, I love it; it’s really pretty, located on the third floor, with the trees all around. It is supposed to be very safe too, as we will be paying a bit in addition to our rent every month especially for security, and it has a security switch in each flat, as well. Also, we have problems with monkeys, which is awesome (I saw 2 baby monkeys the other day)! An answer to prayer (no, not the monkeys…): I am not the only mzungu, in the complex. Carol, also a Baptist missionary is about 50 years old and has been living in Mombasa for 20 years. I am SO very ready to move in!

I start teaching on Tuesday, but I am also helping with the girls basketball team. C-razy….I haven’t played in years . . . years, I tell you! But I got to work out with them on Friday and it was a lot of fun. We played 4 on 5 for part of it and I was on the 4. After we were done with practice, the coach was all, “We always run after practice.” Excellent. Pretty sure I still ache, no wait…I’m positive. But I’m really pumped about getting to hang out with those girls, and have a chance to work out. I’ve already been able to kind of get to know one of the girls, Faith, who is very sweet and apparently plays tennis . . . eh?

There have been two tragedies within the last week here in Kenya. A few days ago one of the Nakuumats (could be spelling that wrong, but it’s like Wal-Mart) caught on fire, and because the exits were not well maintained and possibly because doors were purposely closed to save merchandise, some 20-30 people were killed. Then today, a petrol truck tipped over and it’s looking like over 100 were killed in the fire that resulted. The Kenyans are, naturally, very disturbed by these resent events. We would appreciate your prayers for the families and the injured victims.

As for me, pray that I will learn this language! I want to learn, but it’s so easy to be lazy (especially now that I am not in the slums) because everyone speaks English, even pretty much all the T.V. is in English. Also, please pray that I will just be aware of whatever God has for me to do, that I will be humble and available. –and obviously I am missing home A LOT. Thank you for your prayer in advance!

Much is happening

2009-01-22T10:23:00.000-08:00

Today, I feel like a missionary. So many things to do, and this time I have been able to jump right in and I really feel like I can help people. I don’t feel the least bit out of place, just kinda like I’ve come back home. I feel so exhausted at the end of the day, and I still have a million things on my mind about what I need to do next. But it’s not like, “Ugh, I have that paper, and a test, and that one pointless meeting, and that class—you know the one.” It’s like, “K, gotta get Eunice a blanket, talk to Linus and Stephen about some stuff, figure out a place for Jane to live, and get out of this skirt b/c I bought it at goodwill for $2 and it doesn’t fit very well and it feels like it’s around my armpits.” Good times. . . But seriously, it’s (mostly) things that matter. People are my vocation. Awesome. I know it won’t be quite so much that way when I’m teaching, but still essentially. I feel so blessed to be in this situation. I really love it here working in Misiri; it’ll be so difficult to leave. It’s awesome because they’ve really begun to consider me one of their own.

I want to tell you a story about an amazing woman. Her name is Esther, a very common name in the area. Esther was the first client of the Shade ministry I was able to meet last time I came here, and she really started out my trip right. Her joy and acceptance made me see the HIV positive and the poor in a new light. She has a very special place in my heart. We saw her the other day, coming back from another client’s house. She has started a business selling food and coal since I was here last time, and she is doing extremely well. I haven’t seen such a well run and prosperous business among any of the clients in Misiri or Karanjee. She invited us in (and she remembered me, which I guess isn’t that difficult to do considering the amount of white people in the area) and told me how happy she was to see me and how well she was doing, smiling the whole time. Her joy in Christ just beaming out of her—nearly literally. She talked to us for a while (of which I understood about half!). When we left, Rosemary (the head of the medical portion of the Shade ministry serving people with HIV) told me she used to be a drunk and has only been saved for about 7-8 months, “She has really turned her life around,” she said. And it’s true. Wow! –I really can’t say anything more.

CRAZY story: Ha! Guess what happened to me today? . . . . . . . ok, you’re wrong, I was not attacked by a rabid monkey, nor was I ran over by a donkey. Good guesses though. Close. I was sitting in the car talking to Humphrey (he works for Imani Shade ministry) and my backpack was in my seat. I had unzipped the front pocket of my backpack because I was getting money out to pay for parking. One of the local beggars came to the window, “Mzungu, one shilling.” I shook my head, he’s a regular, and you get used to them. It’s sad, but you can only give to so many people. And I’m not saying that like an American in the States to justify not helping someone out. No, I am literally, yes, literally, better off that pretty much everyone I come in contact with (all the while being on a fixed income for a year), and I am able to help a lot of people. Anyhow, as my head was turned just slightly away from the beggar guy, he snatched some money out of my bag and ran off. I was all, “Hey!” and turned my head out the window. Humphrey, “What happened?” “He took my money.” And off he runs after the guy. I was just gonna count it as lost. Hey, I was stupid to leave my bag open like that, anyway. Have at it guy. People all around me are asking what happened and I’m telling them—hating the attention in a ridiculous, Bella sort of way. I roll up the windows and turn off the car, and now there is a huge crowd that is growing around the guy (who Humphrey apparently caught) and he is busy giving him “some slaps”—according to Humphrey. Everyone’s yelling, and Humphrey’s trying to ask me how much the guy took—I don’t know. I’m trying to tell Humphrey to just have him return the money and let the guy go. I felt awful, that guy getting “some slaps” for me. So, all of a sudden—due to nothing I said, cause they do have a tendency to ignore the mzungu—they stop and humphrey’s coming back to the car, handing me a wet, muddy, wadded up 100 shillings, and sticks it on the dash to dry. His adrenaline is just pumping. And, looking back, he’s redikulously fast, considering the delay before I and then he knew what happened. Everyone was very upset that someone would steal from me, I mean everybody. We’re looking at like 50 minimum that were around at the time. Crazy morning—and yes, this was first thing, by the way. Crazy, huh? Well, yet another cultural experience I’ve never come in contact growing up in Quanah and then moving to the big city of Brownwood and then Plainview.

God's continued work

2009-01-18T10:59:00.000-08:00

I want to let you all share in our joy here in Kenya. There are two ladies, Sarah and Pamela, who we met last time we were here. Sarah was so ill and had such problems with her back, she could barely get out of her bed to wave goodbye to us. A few days ago, I was at Imani church. I walked in and saw Sarah. She is, apparently, fully healed and walking everywhere. I am fairly certain that I remember hearing about her needing major surgery (*major surgery*) when I was here in July. I do not believe that she has had said surgery, and she is doing incredibly well now and not feeling any pain! As for Pamela, when we met her she had just been diagnosed with cancer. She was at the end of her rope, pretty much having given up on all chances of living. (She told us that she did not think she would see January.) When we visited her on (I believe) Thursday, we were cooking (they are teaching me!) and eating lunch at her home, we could all see that the sparkle in her eye is back. She has found hope again and is praising God, and her health is greatly improving. Praise the Lord, he is doing amazing things here.

So, I'm back.

2009-01-14T09:12:00.000-08:00

so--like i said--i'm back in kenya, and it is good to be back. but my "mission work" was able to begin even before i got to london. when i got on the plane i was having a really, really hard time holding myself together. i'm sure i was making everyone around me uncomfortable with all the random sobbing. (in fact, a very nice man handed me a pack of tissues in the airport, "you need this more than i.") anyway, i was sitting by an indian guy and planning on minding my own business and sulking. about halfway through the flight i pulled out my bible--the sulking wasn't really getting me where i was wanting to go. he asked me what i was reading, and i told him. "oh," was pretty much his response. and so it began, that gnawing internal feeling where you're telling God, "not right now," and he's saying, "no, right now." so, i struggled with that for about two minutes and finally gave in. i supposed to be a missionary for heaven's sake--this is my job! so i asked him if he'd ever read it, he said no. i asked him what religion he was: hindu. so i asked him about hinduism. he wasn't very religious, but told me a bit. i asked if he knew anything about christianity, he said no, but he'd listen. so, long story short--or perhaps not so short, i was able to tell him about Jesus! it was amazing. his name is cherith, please be praying for him. afterward we talked about this and that and another important fact came up. he likes the t.v. show how i met your mother. --yes, jaclyn, he lives in india, and knows how i met your mother. sad day for small texas towns. . . .

since, i my clothes have become incredibly soiled, my luggage has been lost, i've been (nearly literally) freezed out of the shower and forced to shave in the sink. not to mention this blog site is always forcing me to rewrite things, most the time entire blogs. but despite all this my disposition is rather positive. praise the lord!

please pray that i will be not only present here physically, but emotionally as well. i am not right now and i so want to be. thank you so much for all your prayers already. until next time. . . .

"How are you?"

2008-07-23T09:43:00.000-07:00

"How are you?"; "What are you?"; "Why are you?"; "Who are you?"; "Where are you?" . . . these are the phrases that we hear daily from the local children (they get their question words mixed up). These are accompanied by pointing, waving, and intermitent shouts of "Mzungu, mzungu!" (the Swahili word used for white people, which essentially means "one who goes around in circles").

Being in Gachie, we have many, many children as compared to Misiri. They are not nearly as well behaved, and we've been able to utilize many new Swahili words such as "be nice," "don't touch each other," "be quiet," "sit," "stay,"--ooh, this is starting to sound like canine behavior school. Anyhow, this week has been much more of a challenge. We're exhausted, and many of us have been, are, or (hopefully not) soon could be, sick. (Not badly, just enough to wear you down.) We've just been going non-stop. We really need prayer for stamina: emotional, physical, spiritual, grammatical. . . .

On a lighter note. Micah, Kelsey, and I have really become accustomed to the Kenyan way of life: Kenyan time (meaning, time doesn't matter), Tea time (twice a day, strictly at 10 and 4--all other things stop), and just going with the flow--nothing really bothers us anymore: it'll work out. I really this about Kenya.

I'll leave you with one story. This is from our first day in the airport. We show up and Micah gets his visa first. Dr. Shaw tells him to go down and find Linus, "A big, very black many with a belly." So he does, introduces himself, and gets his luggage. I come down, Micah points, "There's Linus." I introduce myself. Same thing with Kelsey. Dr. Shaw comes down, Micah points, "There's Linus." "That's not Linus." Awesome. And faux Linus never corrected us (although he didn't look very happy to see us or to hear that Dr. Shaw was just upstairs). Good times. . . .

Well, I'm off to a party. Thank you again for all your prayers!

Kwa heri!

Back again.

2008-07-22T06:31:00.000-07:00

Wow! It's been forever since I've blogged. (I have only once or twice had a chance to be on the computer long enough to read a few of my emails this week.) I'm so sorry. Plus, I just realized that it's not so much the program, but the computer that isn't allowing me to blog. So--as would be my luck--only the computers you pay to use allow this site. Oh well.

So, it seems the last post was after the funeral. Hmm. . .what has happened in the last week? Well, to start, the sun came out (quite exciting!). We've done quite a few house visits to the clients. I was able to help a woman start a business selling coal, she has already been selling for a few days. I did find out some very, very disturbing news. There are 2 children at Miracle House that I have come to love very much. Last week Dr. Shaw informed me that they are most probably HIV positive, but they have yet to be tested. This was the first time I cried here. Please pray that they are not, and that they will be able to be tested very soon (they need to get on ARV's if they are positive). But there is much difficulty when dealing with HIV in Africa, it has such a negative stigma. So, one must be very careful as not to divulge the status to the public, or they will be permanently "marked." Please, please pray for these children.

On a lighter note. On Friday I was able to spend half the day with the kids at Miracle. I really love those children. I got there fairly early and they were still working on their math. I sat down with a few of the kids to check their work (as the teacher advised) and realized they had every single one wrong--and the former day's work as well. So, I spent about 30 minutes teaching (it's quite difficult teaching math without knowing hardly any Swahili) Dennis and George how to subtract. I was afraid they would soon lose interest, but they stayed with me--even after all the others had taken their porridge. And finally, they both got it. You could just see their eyes shining! It was probably the most validating thing I've done this whole time. So encouraging.

Our Amazing "Mungu" (God)

2008-07-15T23:09:00.000-07:00

-Somehow this didn't get posted, and I didn't realize it until now-

So, yesterday (Tuesday) we went a funeral. It was quite an experience. Dr. Shaw preached a short sermon, but the funeral all-in-all was quite a process. It was all outside and it was misty raining (we haven't seen the sun since. . .Thursday, I think). After the first part of funeral we all sort of paraded (as many sang in Kikuyu--the main tribe in this area) over to the actual burying. (There were four funerals/burials yesterday, so Kevin made a joke: "first come first buried," maybe not tasteful, but funny.) Anyhow, when they were doing the actual burying (Micah, Kevin, and Humphrey all got to take part in that) the widow was standing right in front of Dr. Shaw and I. Dr. Shaw, "Have you consoled the widow?"
"Uh. . .no?"
*insistent Dr. Shaw stare*
"I really don't have anything to say."
*insistent Dr. Shaw stare*
"What would I say?"
*insistent Dr. Shaw stare*
"Ok, then."
*off to "console the widow"*
(Kevin will translate.)
I went to her, and the words just flowed. I didn't say much, just talked for a bit (it helps when things are translated, gives you time to think). (I don't know her at all, we've never met.) But God really provided the words--this is a RARE occasion, I never feel I have the words to say, no matter how I beg God to give them to me. I was (and still am) SO excited! It was probably my biggest fear, being asked to "counsel" and not knowing much more to do than smile. God is so good.

So it's been a while . . .

2008-07-14T22:48:00.000-07:00

I've been having a bit (quite a bit) of difficulty trying to get a blog in. Some new system on the site or something.

Anyhow, I've been walking from Kiambethu Farm (where Kelsey, Dr. Mosteller, and I are staying) to Brackenhurst in the mornings to get a bit more time on the computer. The last 4 days--I believe--have been rainy/misty/foggy. So the road is quite wet. I walk through the chai tea fields and everything is extremely green, and with the fog hanging so low and close, it's like i'm walking though the moors in Scotland or somewhere. It's really beautiful--and don't worry, I've taken pictures (but it's the kind of thing that doesn't really fit in a camera lense, if you know what I mean).

As far as the missions experience, yesterday was the first day that I was really tired. "I just want to go sit in front of the fire and not really be here" tired. I was absolutely FREEZING yesterday, and with all the mud and mist, I'm not gonna lie, quite miserable. But I've worn three shirts today so all should be well.

On Saturday we had many, many kids come to Imani and we broke them up into 5 groups (originally supposed to be three) and I taught my group about Esther (and actually had an Esther in my group--it's a very popular name). They had never before heard the story. I don't really know how successful the teaching was--all five groups were in the same room, learning, and I had very young ones. But when we were done, we made crowns, and they seemed to really enjoy that. (By the way, if any of you have any ideas concerning crafts that go with Bible stories, please let me know. We have a decent amount of supplies, but we're running out of ideas--basically I need Cindy Trammell.)--Our greatest craft triumph was the puppets, too bad we can't do that again. . . .

We were able to worship with Imani Baptist on Sunday. It was an absolutely awesome experience. The special music was . . . dancing! That's right, dancing Baptists. Not to mention all the other dancing and wooping going on. It was just great. Micah and I were talking and he's decided we should just pick up that whole congregation and take them with us to the states so they can show us how its done.

I also got to learn how to cook a bit. Mareen, Millie, and Robinson (people from Imani and Miracle House) taught me how to cook ugali (corn meal and water, a bit like firmer grits) and chapati (basically a tortilla, except they use oil and it's a bit cruchy on the outside). We've also got to eat Ndazi (basically a firmer sopapilla) and samosa (a pastry with meat or vegitable inside). Mainly we eat rice and lentils or beans, though.

Today we have a funeral to go to; Dr. Shaw is doing the preaching. Hopefully we'll get to go to Miracle House for a bit; we haven't seen the kids much since Thursday. Well, now that the blog is working again, hopefully I'll be able to be more consistent. Until later. . . .

Sorry. . .

2008-07-13T23:13:00.000-07:00

Hey guys, so I've been having practically no time to blog. I'm so sorry. Hopefully I'll be able to sometime soon (maybe today). Talk you to soon (hopefully).

God is good.

2008-07-10T08:06:00.000-07:00

Please be praying for our team. The guys have been evangelizing every day--three people came to the Lord just today!! Linus says that the African people are more likely to listen to Americans than to their own kind, interestingly enough. So, when American's evangelize, more come to Christ. I think that has been the case--even though everyone thinks Micah is African (specifically from the Kikuyu tribe).

Today was a great day--exhausting, but great. We spent all morning with the children and drew pictures for about an hour and a half (I know, rediculous attention spans, it's awesome). I think I drew like a hundred giraffes.

But Micah talked to Dr. Shaw, and next thing I know we're (Kelsey and I) are getting to go do house visits (Imani has a ministry called "shade" that helps people who are HIV positive in any way they can). We went to four houses, and the women we met were such amazing people. They literally live in closets with dirt floors, many of them. But their spirits are so positive, you go away feeling they just visited you. One woman we visited spoke English, and so we got to have a really good conversation with her and get to know her. We also got to meet her 2 cows (which were named dawn and dusk, basically, in Swahili) and her one 6 day old calf (which was still unnamed, but by the time we left had sufficiently been named . . . Jessica--that's right).

I just want to thank you for all your prayers, I can really feel God working. I wouldn't be here without ya'll, and you are keeping me going. Thank you.

One more thing . . .

2008-07-09T23:14:00.000-07:00

This has been the most amazing thing yet:

I was really struggling with the idea of theodicy: (basically how God can be both loving and just, and why bad things happen to good people). I talked to Erik about it before I left and he said that maybe I'm more angry about these people plights than they are themselves. Maybe they're thankful where they are.

The orphan children sing this song, "Children of Miracle," about how thankful and blessed they are, and they really sing it: hands raised, eyes closed, it' amazing--always makes me cry. They are so thankful for what God has done in their lives, and they are poor orphan children with one pair of clothes. Wow, I have a lot to learn. Chew on that. . . .

It gets frustrating. . .

2008-07-09T22:42:00.000-07:00

So, we have been doing work for three days now, and I finally feel like I'm really here--mind and body, if that makes sense. We've been working with about 15 orphan children in the slum, and I am really getting attached. They're wonderful kids and SO well behaved. Yesterday, we taught them about the good Samaritan and made puppets to act it out. They loved it. We spent so much time on the craft we didn't even get to act it out.

We have been working with Imani (Faith) Baptist Church. The pastor's name is Linus (he lives in Brackenhurst, which is the Baptist Conference Center--kind of like a little compound, this is where Wayland is). Linus and his brother Humphrey have been amazing. They take us everywhere and let us "tag along" with them in all their ministries (which are many). We are really getting to know them well.

We went to the Village Market to exchange our money. It is basically a rediculously fancy shopping center next to the American Embassy. It was culture shock--after only 3 days of being here. We came out of the slum and went straight there (only like 10-15 miles). That was difficult. It's hard to see such opulence only miles away from such poverty.

Wednesday was a difficult day. I am realizing that as a female I will not be allowed to do nearly as much as the guys (both African and American). The mindset here concerning females is very frustrating. (I could really use prayer here.)

Well, (it's Thursday now) I'm about to get ready to go. I have no idea what we're doing today (probably going back to Imani with the children). Until later. . . .

Day 2 (and part of one)

2008-07-08T08:23:00.000-07:00

Jambo!

I've so acclimated to the time change, I'm normally up all night, so being nine hours ahead is perfect. Not to mention the last few days before I left I didn't sleep much, so I have had no difficulty sleeping at night. (Everyone else is really struggling, though--hopefully they'll get on schedule in the next few days.)

So, we went to Imani Baptist Church and helped counsel people with HIV. I actually only counseled one woman because most of them only spoke Swahili (of which I have learned some). I thought it would be really emotionally difficult, but I found that it really didn't bother me at all. They're just people, too.

Today we went back to the church and played with the orphan children from the slum area. They are so sweet and had entirely too much energy. By the end of the day we were all asleep on the ground and they were still jumping on top of us. We showed up (supposedly going to do house visits), and instead Kelsey and I were to teach the children. (Of course, we were not prepared.) So, because there was a boy named Gideon, we told that story. I was a hit, not really, but it all worked out really well. Praise God. So, now I'm going to prepare a lesson for tomorrow. . .just in case.

I love you all, and appreciate all your prayers (so much).

1st day(s)

2008-07-07T01:18:00.000-07:00

So after multiple flights (3), and many, many hours (approx. 26?) in the air and in airports, we are here, in Kenya. The flights weren't bad, fairly uneventful. (I did get to see a woman try and eat a wet wipe, and I'm sad to say I didn't try to stop her.)

I think I'm adjusting to the time difference well, I'm normally up all night anyway. So, this'll be good for that whole insomnia thing. . . .

We (Kelsey, Dr. Mosteller, and I) are staying in a quaint (yet quite large) English-type cottage. I is situated on a chai tea plantation that is 4-5 generations old. The woman who owns it is a older British woman named Fiona. The gardens are amazing! EVERYTHING grows like crazy.

Well, that's about it for now. We're about to go exchange money, eat, and head over to start counseling the people with AIDS. Hitting the ground running!