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Monday, July 28, 2014

Meeting Mary - Kenya Post #5

I have longed to visit the school in Ahero, Kenya from the very moment I heard about it over 5 years ago.  My husband and I had sponsored a little girl called Mary.  She was 4.  There was a drought at the time, and each night we prayed for rain.  When Kip lost his job we prayed for finances to be raised to build a well.  I knew Mary had siblings and I prayed for them too.  I kept up with what was happening in Kenya, and even began researching what it would take for me to be able to spend a summer there.

Just as I was about to begin raising support to join another team that coming Summer my plans were derailed.  Kip lost his job and our marriage began to crumble under the weight of his alcoholism and rage. Several pages of my life story caught on fire and burned and only ashes remained.  I needed to focus on healing and renewal rather than travel and ministry.  

Even through it all, I continued to pray for Mary, her siblings, and their grandmother who was trying to care for them.  When I was able, I sent in my support.  I wasn't always able.  There were the months that I lived out of my suitcases without a home of my own, and the costly months where I was starting over, trying to get my feet back on the ground.

Yet somehow I found myself, 5 years later, in the Charlotte Airport waiting to begin the trip of my dreams.  The sheer joy and anticipation of knowing that I'm *really* going to be able to meet Mary for the first time is almost overwhelming. With tears unexpectedly streaming down my face I manage to share with my team how this trip symbolizes a loving Father giving me 'beauty for ashes'.  He keeps His promises.

Each time our plane landed the excitement in my heart would peak and I'd get all choked up all over again. (It took 4 flights to get there) It seemed just *too much* to believe that this beautiful thing was really happening.  Abba loves these children SO INCREDIBLYMUCH, and I get to share that with them!!! (and especially with Mary.)

We arrived Saturday...or was it Friday? (Jet lag fun!) The children are all seated in the cafeteria.  We are escorted to seats in the front row.  I turn around and scan the beautiful faces half expecting to recognize her face among the hundreds.  Children come up on stage and do magnificent recitations, sing amazingly beautiful songs, and dance joyfully.  The sound of their singing brings tears to my eyes.  I've never heard a more vibrant sound.  It didn't take me long to fall in love with each and every one of them.  Still, I wondered "was one of those precious souls Mary?".

Granted, I didn't expect to get the chance to meet her in person.  My greatest hope was to have her pointed out to me in a crowd.  Bonus would have been to see her face to face and maybe even get a photo.  Her photograph was lost to me several years before during one of my many moves.  She'd be 9 years old, I mused. It's such an honor to finally be here. 

When we went back to the school the next day to meet with the teachers I ask one of them "Do you know Mary?"  It was worth the risk.  I don't know all the students at my school, and it's about the same size.   Mr. Bob recognized her last name and suggested that she might go by a different first name.

I wondered, was Mary still there?  How would I know if she was the little one for whom I prayed all these years?  Well, Pastor Benard didn't leave me much time to ponder anything.  He kept true to his promise - "When you come here, I work you like donkeys!"

Sunday came and went...and was incredibly full.  We worked like donkeys, and loved every amazing minute! Any free time on Sunday was used to plan our lessons for the coming week.

On Monday, I met and tried to teach something to Class 8 and Class 2 and played games during PE with Class 4.  

Was Mary in the 4th grade class that day?  I was so busy with all SIXTY SEVEN of them I didn't have a chance to wonder.  But I'd have a chance to ask later on that afternoon when we met with the teachers - or so I thought.

One of our youngest teammates had gotten sick that morning.  She was scared and far away from people she knew.  The decision was made that I would stay at Benard's home with her instead of going back to teach my afternoon classes.   

Tuesday morning was just like the day before.  We spent a little time teaching but then had the honor of cheering on Class7 at the music festival after lunch.  


There were too many sights to see and so much culture to drink up for me to have a chance to stop and think.  I was learning so much about the community, the children, the school, and was taking stock of how big the need is there.    

In my journal I wrote:  

"Not enough text books or school supplies.  Transportation! Not enough food - only 1/5 of the children in Ahero are sponsored!!  The teachers haven't been paid in 2 months.  How does Benard use that little bit of money and stretch it to meet the needs of SO many children??  What about the 8th graders who have no place to go when they finish?  What will happen to them?  We can do so much more!"

Wednesday.  I woke up worried.  I haven't met Mary yet!  Am I going to come all this way and not get to meet her?  Fear gripped my heart - what if there isn't a High School by the time she's in 8th grade??  What happens to little girls when they have no place to go?

Friends, something happened to me as I pondered and processed it all.  I liken it to that time when inevitably the Grinch became aware that his heart had grew three sizes.  In that moment, I realized that every single one of the children became collectively my "Mary".  I held their hands, looked into their eyes, laughed with them, learned from them, played games, sang songs and prayed prayers.  I listened to their hopes and dreams, I saw the needs, and just barely scratched the surface of their fears.  

They ALL needed my prayers.  They ALL need my support.  My money feeds so many more than just Mary.  Her name became just one of the more than 500 names at that school.  Her story became just one of the more than 500 stories.  Her needs represent the needs of only one child.  I fell in love with more than 500 children...and I haven't even met the children at the other school! 


Here is one of the banners we made with the children.  The other is identical and was left at the school so they would know that they belong and are a part of something Bigger, and that they matter.

When I finally got to the school that last morning, I knew it no longer mattered if I met her.  I'm sure we had already accidentally met at some point.  I hoped that one of the hands I shook had been hers or that I had been able to anonymously look her in the eyes and smile.  Mary would always have a place in my heart ...and so will the rest - Felix, John, Enid, Hope, Ruth, Shem, Violet, Beckam, Lennox, Tevin, Edwin, Yvonne, Maria, Blair, Stacy, Liz, Griffen, Reyes, Ricki, Kevin, Rose, Solomon, Frederick....and SO MANY MORE. 

As it turned out, I did get to meet her.  She put her fingerprint on the banner and wrote her name.  See it?  


I'll give you a hint.  She doesn't go by Mary.  :-) 

I asked sweet Vera about her family.  She's very shy and not very talkative...and she probably didn't understand my American accent.  I was able to tell her how I've been praying for her and her brothers and sisters for a very long time - ever since I first heard.  I told her that Pastor Benard came over to America 5 years ago and visited my church, and how he shared about this school telling us about her and the other children. I let her know that I'd continue to pray for her.  

Cassie grabbed a few pictures of us while we talked.  Isn't she beautiful? 


Later that week, at the school in Wachara I pick up that children have different names as one teacher explains to the students that they must only put one of their names on the leaf - the one that is their favorite.  
I can't be sure that Vera is the same child.  They seemed sure she was the one.  I could have been wrong about her name. Her photograph (with her information on the back) and the sweet picture she had drawn with a blue and a yellow crayon were still fixed to the refrigerator when I had to hastily move out three years ago.  But really, does it matter?  I can't get the past back, and beauty from ashes isn't copying what was before, it's creating something completely new. Mary is the seed that became that beautiful tree.

I wept a good bit that night in my room.  I wept for each child.  I wept for Mary (aka Vera).  I grieved a little over the events that kept me from coming 5 years ago - the ashes.  I cried tears of incompetence - I had been so tongue tied and felt incredibly awkward that afternoon when I finally was able to met her.  I also wept because I knew that there are SO MANY individual children who are in need, each with a tragic story.  And I wept tears of inadequacy because I can't meet Vera or Mary's, or any other child's needs on my own.  Remember that only 1/5 of the children in Ahero are sponsored?  What about the children at the school in Wachara?  None of them are sponsored. There are more than 300 at that school.   

With tears still streaming down my face, I tenderly touched the leaves on the banner and prayed for each child as I scanned their names, hoping they know:     

I have a maker
He formed my heart
Even before time began 
My life was in His hands.

He knows my name.
He knows my every thought
He sees each tear that falls
And hears me when I call. 

He hears me when I call.

I can't meet their needs.  God can.  

If you feel led to be the hands and feet of Jesus to one if these children, contact Hungry 4 Him to sponsor a child.    

You can also help with a one time gift here through the  You Caring site Jeff set up.  

Sunday, July 20, 2014

Kenya Post no.4 - Foreign Concepts

When we arrived in Kenya, there were the things we expected to be different such as:  

-bartering at the market and eating new foods - tilapia with vegetables, ugali (not pictured) and chapati (tortilla like bread),

 

-walking to destinations - though Pastor Benard only let us walk this one time in Ahero, but only because the headmaster, Mr. Philemon, escorted us.  I'm sure all of us wazungu were quite the sight.  (wazungu is Kiswahili for "white people" & plural of the term we heard most "mzungu")


- Here is a roadside market place.  The gentlemen waiting with the motorcycles are taxi drivers.  Their motorcycles have padded seats on the back.


But, some things we didn't expect:

-"So...you don't have witch doctors in America?"  (It took me a minute to let that question sink in before I could answer.)

-going through a metal detector and being searched TSA style - at the local Stuff Mart (Veggie Tales reference)


...for that matter, armed guards deciding who they will let into the local Stuff Mart compound. (this photo was taken after we got inside)


-paying to use a public toilet....and taking a folded bit of toilet paper out of a cardboard box.  ... or using an outhouse like the one pictured above from the school yard in Ahero.

-chickens in church,


-chickens (and cows) at school.

...and even chickens in the living room!


-being asked "What do you feed your cat?" by the children and realizing most service animals don't have names, let alone get fed a steady diet of specially made cat good that I purchase at the store every week or so.

-"Mzungu! Mzungu! HowahYou?" (How are you? said as one word - much like the KiSwahili word "Habari" which means the same.)  We were told that the children might rush up to us just to touch.  I still wasn't prepared for it, though I hope and pray they knew Jesus' love in each touch, smile, and hand shake offered.


-"You must be proud that your son (a soldier) sends you so much money." Shannon learned that Kenyan soldiers send all their pay home to their mothers to help care for the family.

-I'm sure watching me try to describe a poodle to Class 2 (2nd graders) because it was in a phonics song I was teaching them was fun.  It got a lot of giggles in class.  We only saw one breed of dog while we were there, and their sole purpose was to guard the house.  

-"Why would you name a cow? We use the cow for food!" ~Pastor Benard


-Killing black snakes is beneficial to all...but a lot more dangerous that the black snakes we find in North America (google Black Mamba if you don't believe me).

-Kids can play football (soccer) even without a ball. (I was amazed at the tightly wadded plastic grocery bags joined by a web of rubber bands that served very well as a soccer ball!)


-Doesn't everyone carry baby goats on the back of their motorcycle?


-See the cooking oil containers on back? (We had fried donuts many mornings called Mandazi - Thank you Pamela and Bertha!  They were YUMMY!) I'm going to try to make some this week - wish me luck!  Yay for YouTube cooking helps!

Some differences were refreshing:

-Sodas made with real sugar -  in glass bottles!  My favorite Kenyan sodas were  surprisingly made by Coca Cola:  Krest (tasted like carbonated lemonade) and Stoney Tangawazi (a yummy Ginger Beer - sweet with a tiny hint of spice)


-milk in a bag. (How fun is that?!)

-mannequins with curves & "Plus sized" women in music videos.  

-We saw women sitting like this and found it to be equally modest, and a whole lot more air conditioned!


-hot tea made with hot milk - every night.  This time was by candlelight until the power came back on.


OH!  that picture reminds me of the can of plum jelly that was so good with the mandazi.

Then there are those differences that shouldn't be - the ones we can do something about:

The need for a safe water supply.  This is a nice water tower at the school in Ahero.  I believe it's attached to a well, so when there's electricity water can be pumped into the containers. 


-Three or four students share the same broken pen to write down their assignments.

- Four or five students cram into a desk that should really only seat 2. 

The students pictured above worked flawlessly as a team to bring all of their desks out of their classrooms for an assembly.  I love how a table was ingeniously used to seat the pre-schoolers so they could see the stage in the cafeteria too. 

-One student text book shared by four or five students in one class...and one (maybe two) textbooks per classroom shared by the entire class in another. 


-not enough teacher editions of textbooks.  Even though there is only one or two nationally approved curriculum, shouldn't each teacher have a copy of the Teacher's Edition?  (or even have one copy at the school to share) 

-Students who walk sometimes three hours to and from school didn't have school bags to keep the little they did have.  It's probable they didn't eat breakfast before leaving their guardian's home, and also probable they won't get dinner when they return at night.

-Widows and orphans living in houses made out of mud, with mud floors- that might fall down during the rainy season.  Benard said the best homes can last up to 4 (whole) years.  The homes we saw mostly had congregated tin roofs like the building in the picture below.  Some had thatched roofing.

 



The second picture was taken inside one sweet mama's home.  It shows how she makes sisal rope from the leaves of the agave plant.  It was the only source of income we saw for single mothers. These women need to be empowered to earn a living so they can feed their children.

-There was room in the dorms where more children could safely stay, but not enough beds.  


-These sweet children from the church we attended in Kisumu, sang a very sad song that spoke directly to the plague of death that is haunting them through HIV/AIDS and political turmoil, and terrorist attacks.  An entire generation of fathers is missing. 

 
But some things remain the same no matter where you are: 

-Children love to act goofy for the camera and then see what the finished product looks like.
 

-football (aka soccer)


 - jumping rope 
....well, maybe. :)
 


-worship - it might have been in a different language, but even the melodies were the same!  "What a Friend We Have in Jesus",  "It is Well With My Soul", "Bringing in the Sheeves".   A sweet moment while we were waiting for the conference to begin was when I began softly humming "How Great Thou Art" after hearing the three pastors singing so many traditional hymns, and then heard them flipping wildly through the pages of their hymnals saying in English "Number 16! Number 16!" before beginning the same hymn in their tribal language.  


-Students in Ahero showing honor to their country's flag during morning assembly with an honor guard.


- hanging clothes out to dry (although, we don't typically have to wash them by hand in a wash tub...)


- pride in a job well done.  These girls won 1st place in a music festival contest in the traditional category.  We were honored to be able to cheer them on and celebrate their job well done!


- speaking of music:  

It's a universal language...  
...just like Jesus and his love,  



and waving goodbye...

...even when you don't want to go.


Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Purposeful Preparing for the Future - Kenya Post no. 3


Six months ago I decided that my word for 2014 was going to be "purposeful".  I tend to live in my head a lot, thinking about doing things, but not actually doing them, or planning it out.  When I saw this book, I knew it would be a good tool to help keep me focused.  I've made goals so far in these categories:  Spiritual, Music, Knitting, Health&Fitness, and Professional.  Five goals for each category.  For the most part, all 25 of my goals can be considered "SMART" goals.  A couple sound like they'd fit better on a bucket list, but each is still Specific and Measurable, Attainable and Realistic.  Most have a Time limit.

The Need for Self-Discipline
Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. Therefore I do not run like someone running aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air.  No, I strike a blow to my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize.  1 Corinthians 9:24-27

What does this have to do with Kenya you ask?  Yes, all the best runners come from Kenya.  We saw the mountains where they train.  We saw WAY more people walking and riding bicycles to where they needed to go than riding in or haphazardly on motorized vehicles.  But that's not it.


  

Part of my depression in coming back has been because of my lack of focus.  For months I was driven in preparations for the trip:  praying, raising funds, packing, practicing songs, praying, doing research, seeking wisdom (praying), re-packing, finding someone to care for the animals, studying, putting lesson plans together, gathering materials, packing...again, and laying it all in God's hands (aka...praying).  At the same time all that was going on, I was dealing with the aftermath of surviving a battle between my car and a telephone pole (neither won) and trying to come out ahead in the most challenging (yet delightful) school year ever.    

During the trip, Pastor Benard kept true to his promise "When you get here (to Kenya), I work you like donkeys!"  (I love that he pronounced donkey just like Shrek.)   My favorite example of that is when he told us on a Thursday:  "Saturday there is going to be an all day church conference.  The topic is going to be 'Christian Living'.  You are going to be the speakers."  

....We hadn't exactly prepared for that.  (But it was ASTOUNDING to look back on that day and see how God, in his perfect and loving wisdom, had prepared us for the task.  Honestly, our whole trip was like that.  I can't think of a single day where I didn't cry out to Abba "Tag!!! You're it!"

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.   2 Corinthians 12:9-10

Fully relying on His strength and trusting that He had prepared us for everything we hadn't prepared for didn't actually prepare me for landing back in Charlotte - I had nothing to do. The trip was over.  School won't be in full swing until mid August. 

Yeah, but what does that have to do with Kenya?  It's okay to ask that again - Because it isn't about me. :) 

Let me tell you about the Children in the "upper" grades who go to school Monday through Friday and then come back to school - on Saturday.  Every Saturday.  Classes 4 through 8 spend an extra day a week studying so that they can do well on their exams.  The score they get on their exams will determine if they get accepted to a good Secondary School.  (High School)

In Kenya, school is not free.  Secondary schools are a lot like Universities here in America.  Students have to apply, be accepted, board, and pay tuition.

Remember the video of the mosquito clap?   I was privileged to take down prayer requests from children in that class.  If I remember correctly, class 4 contains 67 students. (in one classroom).   A couple copied down the words to the song I taught them (my American accent was SO confusing to them).  A few sweetly asked for prayer for their director and their teachers.  Some asked for prayer for siblings.  A couple even asked for prayer for safe travels for us.  But, MOST of them asked for prayer to do well on their exams.  If they do well enough, maybe - just maybe they'll be chosen for a scholarship. 


Currently, for students in the care of Benard's Vision School, schooling and protection, and daily nutrition ends the day they finish Class 8.  

Benard hopes to add a High School to campus so these precious children can have hope and purpose.  So they can realize their dreams.  So they can have a place to be instead of on their own after 8th grade.  But right now there isn't one.

Education is their key.  (If I'm this lost over being unfocused for the few weeks of Summer emptiness when the school year is over...what must the 8th grade graduates be feeling right now?) 

We met one of the boys who graduated 8th grade last year on the streets.  Benard recognized him, honked the horn and called him over to the vehicle.  He didn't have the money to continue on.  He was a very smart boy who did well on his exams.  He was accepted into a very good High School, but he couldn't afford the tuition.  So there he was, without purpose....roaming the streets.

In Wachara, the church there had very few men.  The men from those generations had died from AIDS, and some who are left, are dying from alcoholism, and general loss of hope.  There are so many women who are taking care of their children alone.  The men are gone.  There are a few married couples.  While driving in one area, Benard pointed to a large grouping of mud homes.  "These homes...in EACH of these homes, someone has died.  We estimated that at least 70% of the adult church members were widows.  

I had the fearful privilege of leading (?) the woman's small group discussion during the All Day Christian Living Conference in Wachara.  These ladies were taking care of children alone.  Their husbands were dead or absent.  They have no way of providing for their children.  They struggle to find food.  Some of the ladies make sisal rope.  When they get a dozen lengths of rope made, they walk several hours to the nearest market and try to sell them. 

Education is freedom.  When the support of my husband disappeared, I had an education to fall back on.  I had a source of income.  Benard has a heart for the girls in Wachara.  He does not want to see the cycle repeated in their generation.  They need a dorm so they can be safe after school instead of walking home for 3 or 4 hours each night...sometimes in the dark.   They also need a High School program there.
  

Pray for these precious children, for the widows.  Pray that they will have a relationship with Abba where they can say to him "Tag!  You're it!  I need you." when they have no clue what to do next.  Pray they will develop a relationship with Jesus, take comfort in His presence and glean HOPE from His promises.  Please also pray for a place to be prepared that will provide shelter and purposeful preparation for independent living including Secondary School so they can help make Kenya a better place...and change the world. 

(photos courtesy of Cassie Mumford - isn't she the best?!)

Check this out!  Jeff Mullis set up a place at You Caring dot com so you can help!  CLICK HERE


Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Mosquito Vignettes - Kenya Post no.2

Mbu is the KiSwahili word for mosquito.  I think the size of the word fits the little guys so much better.  I just wonder how it is that these little tiny guys could capture such a big part of my experience in Kenya before, during and after the trip.

Vignette #1 - Infectious Disease FUN (prologue)
Before we went on the trip we had a fun morning at the infectious disease center.  Our attentive MD spent a copious amount of time educating us on all the ways we could die (or become very ill) in Kenya and how to prevent it.  As you well know, the mosquito was a big part of our education.  Bless those little blood sucking buggers - they carry everything! If that wasn't scary enough, our doc singled me out of the group and exclaimed "YOU!  I've seen your allergies.  You're getting an epi pen!"

I felt so vulnerable, and was tempted to be afraid (okay, and was afraid) for a short time until I realized a little truth.  My vulnerability can point me in two different ways:  fear or faith.  I can let the mosquito and all the diseases he could carry point me to how tiny I am, or I can let it show me how incredibly BIG our God is in comparison.  ...I think I need to start a tally chart of how many times Abba's perfect Love casts out my fear.

Mosquito Vignette #2 - The Power of Temptation & the Mosquito Ninja
So...my after shower Bath and Body Works style lotion while in Kenya looked a little more like this:


One night while slathering it on, grateful my sinus cavities were closed so I didn't have to endure the ...umm...scent, I noticed two little red spots on my arm.  I had been bitten unaware.  The mbu kidogo (little mosquitos) are ninjas!

I did a little research just now and was disturbed to find that it's only the female mosquito who does the biting.  She needs to feed each time she lays eggs.  I learned that when she bites, her tiny, sharp little needle proboscis goes into your skin releasing mosquito saliva - which contains anticoagulants (a girl's gotta do some cooking before she has a good meal, right?).

The point is - we don't feel her bite.  We might not even notice she's there until the itching begins long after she leaves.

Isn't that so much like the effects of temptation and self serving, mind numbing, feel good idolatry?  We walk into a situation and get distracted.  We don't feel the pain while it's happening.  The proboscis that sucks our lifeblood goes in unnoticed....and the damage is done before we are aware.

"Those who want to get rich fall into temptation and a trap and into many foolish and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction."  1 Timothy 6:9

Mosquito Vignette #3 - The Mosquito Clap (something fun!)

Here's a fun clap the students taught us!  Thanks Cassie for the video!

"Mosquito!  Bzzzzzz!  Catch it!  Confuse it!  (clap) Kill it!"

Mosquito Vignette#4 - A Tale of Two Nets (epilogue) 
Even after the trip, insights are rolling in.  I was sharing about what it was like to sleep under a mosquito net with a somewhat rebellious teen when this one occurred to me. (Thanks Holy Spirit - you really do ROCK and ROLL!)

My first mosquito net experience was amazing.  The net on our beds was fluffy white and it felt like I was sleeping in a cloud each night that first week.  I was protected and I enjoyed the experience.  When we got to Wachara, the nets weren't white.  They were green; and I had to quickly dismiss the feeling of being buried alive.  It was a mind training thing.

Both nets were protective.  The only difference was in how I looked at them.

I asked my young friend if she thought her parents were trying to protect her when they set limits?  (phew!  She did.)  Then I asked her:  Do you feel safe, protected, cherished as you are placed on top of a cloud?  ... or sometimes do you feel like you are being buried alive?

She was quick to answer - you can guess her response. 

I pointed out to her that both nets were lovingly provided for our protection.  
Same nets.  Different color.

I loved the look on her face when she figured out that the loving discipline from parents (and our Heavenly Father) feels so much better when we choose to change our perspective.

Stern discipline awaits anyone who leaves the path;
    the one who hates correction will die.  Proverbs 15:10

Whoever fears the Lord has a secure fortress,
    and for their children it will be a refuge.  Proverbs 14:26

______

note:  I love how each of these vignettes have the theme of perspective woven throughout them - even #3!  It's all part of the renewing of our minds - something I really need to work on these days.

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.  James 1:2-4

Thursday, July 3, 2014

Kenya post #1: It All Started When...

It all started when we landed on the tarmac in Nairobi.  It was late at night and we had to deplane Casa Blanca style.  Airport employees in bright yellow vests and military officials alike were armed with rifles.  They greeted us kindly, but were urgent in directing us to the buses that would transport us to Customs.


Here is a photo I found on Google.  

...and another which explains the heightened security and the urgency in getting us to the buses. 


The fire happened a year ago and the terminal was still being rebuilt.  It's possible that customs was the temporary location...which helps me feel better about the herded cattle feeling I had so late that night.  (SO GLAD I didn't see the picture before the trip!!)  Our driver later explained the extra security by simply saying "This is Kenya." 

I felt so vulnerable.  I knew that all of the danger was hours and hours away on the coast.  We were going to the opposite side of Kenya and the only risk the State Department warned of was that of our time spent in Nairobi.  I was grateful for the tone set by our team leader and the subsequent way we were sticking together and looking out for each other so well.  

...let me back up to explain a little more about how vulnerable I felt.

Before we began the trip, I had been working around the clock in a frenzied attempt to finish things at school before leaving.  I even got up at 4am the morning we left to finish packing so I could get to school at 6am to get more done.  In the two previous nights before leaving, I had slept *maybe* a total of 7 hours.   

Running to my car at 7:40 (10 minutes late), I was defeated.  I didn't get done.  My perfectionist heart was shredded.  Sleep deprived already, I pulled in the parking lot our church home to join the team.

We gathered and prayed.  I put a few items in my car that seemed extraneous.  

...and when I saw a piece of encouragement that had fallen out of my bag to the floor of my car, I set my phone down to pick it up.  

(-y'all know how addicted I am to my phone, right?)

The scripture on that leaf was EXACTLY what my anxious heart needed in order to begin to choose to rest.  I love how Abba used His word to get me to "accidentally" leave my phone in the car.  

We were almost to Charlotte when I realized I didn't have my phone.  

*Gone was a tool I could use to increase worry and attempt to "manage" the unfinished that really couldn't be accomplished until I returned home.
*Gone was the temptation to run to my family friends before seeking help from the I AM who was already holding us.  
*Gone was the distraction of recording every moment that was already being recorded by capable (and talented) teammates.  
*Gone was my ability to tune out hard things by putting in my ear buds and escaping by listening to music.  
*Gone was a security blanket that would certainly get in the way of fully experiencing everything Abba had planned for me.

....I'm sure you are thinking how it might have been a good thing that I mislaid my phone.  I can assure you, I would not have agreed with you wholeheartedly.  Intellectually?  Yeah.  I knew it was a good thing.  It's just that in my heart, I felt stripped.  Naked, and unprotected.

Which isn't a bad thing.  :)

So, it all started the way it should have.  

I was an open book.  

From my journal: 

#gratitude list
lightened my load
forgot my phone in the car
left work undone
...learning to trust
"caw-caw"  "Rafiki"
blessing from Shannon who said she was excited to see how God was going to use my gifts on this trip
nausea and cold sweats each time we landed
that one sweet quiet moment in the airport in London
music shared by Popeye (PC&D Great I AM)(and subsequent phone fix)
gluten free dinner  

At Heathrow Airport on the longest escalator ever.

First leg of the trip heading to Miami.