A Few Pics for Donita...

Here is a glimpse of our day, in pictures. If it is laundry day, we start by filling buckets out back and getting to work out there.

I would like to say that this is a typical load, but because of the toll that laundry has had on my hands, the size of our loads of laundry has decreased significantly. My standards have dropped for what is considered dirty.

Serious ouch, raw hands. But the clothes are clean! haha

And then we get dressed and head out to do our daily shopping. 

This is our local market. Sorry the picture is not the best, but I was trying to be quick so that no one would grab my camera. While it is not as dangerous here as in other places, we are definitely noticed and watched as we walk through. This street is just outside of our neighborhood and is lined with kiosks where I can buy all of our produce needs for the day.

This has become our fast food. When we are out around lunch time, there is a little hole in the wall that serves up delicious beans and chapati. We stop in, place our order, and walk home with three bags of beans and one bag of chapati. Yummy lunch! Not to mention the Black Currant Fanta (my personal favorite!)

And then on a special day when we splurge a little, we venture down the road to our local Java House, the Kenyan version of an American coffee house. Definite treat!

Well, that's what I've got for now. Hope yall are doing well!

Venturing Out

Today the girls and ventured out by foot to do some shopping at the local market. We discovered a few days ago that they folks around our neighborhood are saying that our house is occupied by a bunch of tourists who are coming and going, so we wanted to show our faces in the community to let them know that we are slightly more permanent than tourists. A couple of days ago we did a walk through of a loop just outside of our neighborhood so that I could see where it goes and so that some of the folks in the community could see the face of this white woman with locals. It was the beginning of building relationships in the community. So today I put it to the test.

I strapped my baby girl on my back, grabbed a basket and the older girls, and we headed out. Our streets are all dirt roads, very rough and very dirty. As we leave the gates of our neighborhood, we are greeted with strange looks and whispers of , "mzungu! mzungu!," which simply means "white person." The streets are littered with all kinds of trash. At one point, my oldest asked me why there were so many old shoes left on the ground. Then she asked me why people leave their trash on the ground, because she knows that isn't wise. Oh boy, that began a discussion as we walk of different values and priorities and that sometimes people are not taught to value the same things that she values. And on we went. So the street outside of our community is lined with shanty little kiosks made of old wood. Some have bags of beans and rice and maize sitting out front. Another has a few crates of brown eggs. Most have bananas hanging from them, big green and yellow ones, and also the tiny sweet yellow bananas. Those are 5 kenyan shillings each, and so yummy. One kiosk has oranges, mangos, and avocados all neatly laid out in an appetizing display, with green, leafy vegetables behind them. I discovered today that I could buy a bag of greens already chopped up into tiny shreds. That was a brilliant discovery and came in handy at dinnertime!

We made our way to the local neighborhood "supermarket"to see what they had to offer. It consisted of three very tight aisles cram-packed with all sorts of things. So we grabbed a basket and began to work our way through it. It was tough to do with the baby on my back, as the aisles were just wide enough for us to walk through, with all sorts of tempting things on either side for her sweet baby hands to grab. So we moved quickly and I just kept turning from side to side to keep things out of her reach. We were able to buy bread, butter, detergent, rice, and napkins at this supermarket, and I was quite pleased to discover that it was remarkably cheaper than driving to the big supermarket at the shopping mall where we had been doing our grocery shopping. As we wormed our way around the other locals who were shopping there, we paid for our goods and moved on out the door. We had step over an old dog covered in flies and dirt to get through the doorway, and then crossed the bumpy dirt road to buy some produce.

I stopped at a couple of kiosks to buy bananas and greens, more so that I could meet the ladies selling them. Then we stopped at a little restaurant (here they call them hotels) to grab some lunch to take home. This is our version of a fast food take-away, but much healthier than McDonalds. We like the beans and chapati (something in between a tortilla and Indian fry bread-love it!) there, so we ordered our lunch and waited. They serve up an order of beans in a thin plastic bag with the end tied in a knot, and the chapati is folded over and placed in the same sort of bag. We paid our bill of 140 shillings (under $2), gathered our goods and headed home to eat lunch.

I am waiting a few more days for my hands to heal before I give the laundry another go. I am trying to not wait too long, otherwise the load will be huge and will surely lead to bloody hands. Evidently, though, my technique is part of the problem, so I have to refine how I hold the clothes and wash them. None the less, the scabs are still a bit fragile, so I will give them another few days. Needless to say, my standard of dirty clothes has changed drastically. If the clothes are not standing up on their own yet, they are still clean. Hahaha! No, seriously.

Well, that's all I have for tonight. Blessings yall! Thank you to those who are praying for us and have sent encouraging words. They have been needed, and have been well received here.

Settling In

These past few days have really been down days of settling and figuring out a new normal of life here in Kenya. The past month seems to have gone by like quite a whirlwind, full of some intense highs and even more intense lows. But by God's grace we are all still standing and moving forward in life.

This has been an interesting and humbling season of life for me. I was so intensely excited about returning to Kenya, as it has been 2 years since we were here as a family. I was excited to be able to be a part of the teams that travel around and meet with different people in communities across Kenya. I used to love traveling around and being a part of the adventure. I say used to because life has really changed much in the last several years, and children have changed the landscape of my adventure.

But I tried to keep up with the teams that were here last month, as we traveled from place to place to place. We had jet lag, sicknesses, cranky children, cranky mama, and challenging circumstances to work through. I wish that I could say that I maneuvered through them all gracefully and gently, but I did not. I was struggling through many different issues, and displayed not one fruit of the spirit for that time period.  Sigh. Sometimes I wonder if there are just some of us who are just too far gone, beyond hope of repair.

It was hard for me to let go of the notion of being able to participate with the teams and the various meetings that were going on, all the while, my three little people were calling for my attention and needing their mama to be their mama. So rather than joyfully attending to my children, I was bitter about being pulled away from the gatherings where I would be informed of things that were going on in the communities or general upcoming plans. I have really had to seek God's face in asking Him what He would have me do here and how He would have me serve. It is humbling when the response is not necessarily what I would have chosen first, as it is much less glamorous and behind-the-scenes.

And so these days I am getting settled into our house here in Nairobi and helping my girls recognize a new normal here at home. We are doing laundry by hand, which has led to bleeding knuckles that just don't seem to heal. We have ventured into the surrounding neighborhood to meet local vendors in their shabby kiosks. This will be our new grocery store, as the supermarket here is very expensive and meant for wealthy foreigners. We are foreigners, but wealthy we are not. So I will learn to buy local. We even have a small garden in the back of the house that has provided our family meals a time or two!

I am getting braver everyday about driving to a new place and discovering my way around. Today I actually drove by myself and my three little people in towards town to meet with some old friends. I drove there on one route and returned home by a different route, and did not get lost! I was immensely proud of myself for this feat! I have discovered that the key to driving in Nairobi is to be aggressive. In fact, every time I get behind the wheel of our old beast of a Land Cruiser, the old cheer runs through my head: "Be aggressive! Be, be aggressive!" I have realized that if you are brave enough to stick your nose out in traffic, you get the right of way to go first. That becomes like a dare! All kinds of fun!

So that's where we are for now. Nothing glamorous or exciting really. Not really what folks want to hear from of a missionary in the field, but this is my humble lot for today. And by God's grace, I will fill it.

Today I Type with Raw Knuckles

So we are back in Nairobi today after a very long journey yesterday from Kisumu. A drive that would normally only take 5 or 6 hours took us....ah, I don't know...too many, as one of the trucks broke down several times....several times on the way. But we arrived in the night and are now relaxing today at a favorite coffee shop here in Nairobi. I spent a couple of hours this morning doing laundry for my family, as it is all done by hand here. So I am trying to stay on top of it, rather than the once a week laundry day that I would do at home. So one bucket full of dirty clothes took two hours to wash by hand and ended with bloody knuckles.

In the last several weeks, we have been in several different communities, visited with many, many families, shaken countless hands, greeted many people, and have seen the hand of God moving among the African people. In the next several days, I will try to break this down into separate stories. For now, please pray for the Church in Kenya. Please pray for your brothers and sisters who are struggling so much here in Kenya. We have met with sisters who are alone in their faith, who are struggling to hold on to what they know of Jesus because no one else around them professes Him name. Please pray for these sisters. When we met with them, you can not imagine who encouraged they were to simply know that they are not alone, that there are brothers and sisters on the other side of the world who are holding them up before the Throne of Grace. You cannot imagine how their spirits were lifted to simply know that were standing with the whole bride of Christ. Please remember them in your prayers.

Where I Feel Most Alive

So we have been in Kenya for about 2 weeks now, and this is the first chance I have had to get anything to post. We have been without internet access for the majority of the trip, and now that we have it, I am at a loss as to where to begin. Let me take a moment and look back a bit. If I don't do it now, it won't get done.

We arrived in Nairobi on the night of the 4th, and it seems that we hit the ground running. We spent the first day in Nairobi doing shopping for the house, and then repacking to spend the next week out in the villages. 

Early Sunday morning, we loaded up in the Land Rovers and headed out of Nairobi to a village called Lumbwa among the Maasai. We arrived to the village by late morning in time to be ushered to a large rectangular church, which had been built by Korean missionaries who are living there. Somehow it was an odd contrast of sights with the brick so neatly laid, and the traditional Maasai women filing into it, decked out in their colorful beads and garments. When the pastor launched into the message directly addressing the issues of witchcraft and the spiritual world among them, a demon-possessed woman on the front row was thrown to the ground in a fit of spiritual warfare. As she writhed on the floor making shrieking noises, the elders of the church and some of our team members began to pray over her, commanding the demon to leave her. After several minutes of praying, the woman was helped back to her feet, standing in strength and in her right mind again. There were songs of praise lifted up from there and the service was concluded in worship.

Welcome back to Africa.

There was rest in the afternoon as our first day out came to a close. Sometimes there is just more to take in than can be processed. 

The next day we headed into the nearby community of Noosokitok to meet with the local leadership council. This particular day posed a huge challenge for me, as I was forced to redefine my role here in Kenya. I have quite romanticized traveling with children, boasting about their portability, while at the same time, being keenly aware of wanting to avoid creating the stereotypical rebellious "missionary kid." This is so heavy on my heart that it becomes a driving force throughout the days. I do not want my children to be a casualty of ministry and grow up to hate the God who took their parents' attention and love away. In my heart, it is a difficult balance and I often feel pulled and frustrated by it. So I found myself this day struggling with where I wanted to be and where I needed to be. I wanted to be sitting with the rest of the team, engaging in the leadership council meeting, learning more about the things of the community and how we may come alongside of them, but I was pulled away so many times with the needs of my little people that I decided to abandon the meeting altogether and tend to my children. They are having to learn how to pee behind a bush or squat over a hole to take care of their business, and so that particular day, we took many trips out to the bush for them. And my youngest was forced to nap while strapped to my back, and that was big challenge for all of us. All of that said, children are not as portable as I once boasted. Maybe it is just the season that mine are in, and/or the number that we have, but they have required significant attention that has pulled me away from what I thought was ministry that I would be involved in, and caused me to redefine my ministry focus and strategy. Silly mommy.

I will pause here, as the Kenyan night has called me to sleep. The mosquitos are buzzing about, craving my flesh, and the children are now snoring soundly. We are headed out to the village in the morning to visit family and the parents. I will try to write again tomorrow night upon our return.

Thank you to those who are praying for us. This trip has not been without its challenges thus far. But even amidst the challenges, the land in Africa is where my heart comes most alive. It's beats the strongest and alls me into closer communion with God. I praise His Name for the challenges, and for the awesome privilege to be here. More tomorrow. Be blessed!

Where I will be spending the next 4 months...

I am overwhelmingly excited to be back in Kenya, and able to work among the beautiful Maasai, as well as other amazing tribes and communities of Kenya. There is much work to be done, much to learn, and many to love. My prayer is that my heart would be soft and pliable, humble and learning, willing to do any and every blessed thing laid before me, my my good and His glory. There is so much work to do, so much that the enemy that has tried to destroy.

But Jesus....

He changes everything.

Will you join me in the fight for justice, redemption, and love?

If you would like to be added to our list to receive newsletter updates, please feel free to email me or leave a comment below. If you would like to stand with us financially, please leave a comment and I will get in touch to let you know how, or visit www.unite4africa.org. I will blog as much as possible. We leave June 3rd. Much to do. Much to pray over.

Jesus changes everything.

The Robbery

Yesterday I witnessed a robbery. It wasn't violent with guns drawn, but rather fast and abrasive. I was entering the Dillards of our local mall, when a man and woman came smashing through the door with arms full of loot. They barreled over my children who were sauntering ahead of me, which is what got my attention to begin with. As they plowed down my girls, I noticed the arms full of purses, nice, expensive purses and the man who was waiting just outside the door to whisk them away.

I was with a girlfriend at the time, and the two of us stood in silence for a moment, stunned by what we had just seen, feelings of helplessness and violation lapping over us. We walked inside the store to see a bare shelf that was previously occupied by these lavish brand name purses, the security chain that had held them, cut and dangling over the edge.

We alerted store clerk to what we had just seen, which brought stunned faces, slight confusion and anger, and calls to security. But my heart was broken, and remains to be, over the despair that I saw.

What would drive a person to such desperation, such stupidity, as to rip off bags like that? Such selfishness, such lack of care for humanity, such depravity and brokenness.

As I said yesterday though, you just never know the journey a person is on, or how they got on it. What you can know about an incident such as this is that a person is broken and desperate to be driven to such selfish choices. They have bought a lie and are believing the enemy for a victory, on which he can never deliver.

Scripture says that the thief has come only to steal, kill and destroy. This is the only thing on which the Thief can deliver. But Jesus...

Oh how I love that phrase. That, in and of itself is enough.

But Jesus...

He comes that we may have life, and have it to the full.

But Jesus...

He can deliver on His promises.

But Jesus...

With Him it's different. There is hope in the most hopeless of situations and circumstances. It doesn't make sense and it may seem like over-simplified Christianese. But He brings hope.

Or maybe it's the peace that from letting go and trusting Him. No need to worry; the Savior's got this.

Or maybe it's the comfort that comes from knowing that in the end, the right path that we choose today for His Name's sake will all be worth it.

See, He delivers on His promises. The Thief, though, doesn't have a leg to stand on. And so he kills and destroys, and leads folks to believe that they need to steal some bags for who knows what reason.

Oh, but if they knew Jesus...He changes everything.

Beauty for Ashes

Tonight I met with a fellowship of some amazing women. I am new to their group and am absolutely loving getting to know them. Now, I have been a part of women's groups before, where they sit around and chat and gab and maybe throw some Jesus talk into the mix. But these ladies...these ladies are different. These gals don't fool around with the Jesus business. They get right into it and get their hands dirty, cheeks wet with tears, hearts open and bare and vulnerable. These ladies dig.

I was humbled and honored tonight to hear one mommy's story of great loss and heartache. How does a mommy do it? How does she bury her baby after suffering such loss of life? In the years working in the Pediatric ICU, I often wondered that. When we would lose a patient, it was hard and heart-wrenching, but at the end of the experience, we gently carry the child to the morgue and then return to care for another patient. I don't mean that as callously as it may sound, but that's the bottom line of it.

But the mommy? How does she leave the hospital? How does one walk back out the car and drive away, knowing that she will not be returning for her child? How does a mother bury a child, and yet still breathe? How does she survive that?

I saw the heart of this mommy tonight, still grieving 9 years later, still aching over the magnificent love for her beautiful son. I saw this mommy, whom I have admired, never having known before the reality of her journey. Isn't that the case for most of us? That most of us don't really know the journeys that our brothers and sisters have traveled to get to this place now? But this sister tonight...I saw Jesus in her.

Such strength in broken weakness.
Such humility in incredible hurt.
Such surrender where there could easily be defiance.
Such worship where there is unimaginable pain.

Such beauty.

She has a perspective on mommyhood that most of us will never know, would never wish to know, and yet would always long to know...to see life with such compassion, grace, mercy and unconditional love. She has a gentleness about her that just cannot be defined. She knows how precious it all is, and how easily it is lost. She knows what it is to cherish.

I mourn with my sister who mourns. I honor her journey, for thus far the Lord has brought her. And He will continue to do so...

Love you, sister of mine. Praise God for who you are, who He has made you to be.

A Mother's Prayer

Today is a day to celebrate mothers, and I honor the mothers of the world. I myself am honored to be among the ranks of mothers of the world, and feel the weight of the pressure and responsibility to see my girls become leaders and influencers of the next generation. I adore my daughters, and most days, absolutely love being their mommy. But this is, by no means, something I take lightly. Anyone who knows me knows that there is not much that I take lightly, but this one...this one is a driving force. 

When I was a kid, my folks used to say, "I hope you have kids just like you some day."

Please, God, no. Please don't let them be like me. 

This is how I know God is real and active and present. His healing hand continues to move and work in my own life, freeing me from insecurities that have plagued me for a lifetime, restoring a heart that the enemy tore apart.

Please, God. Don't let them be like me. 

Let them be strong and confident. Let them know You and Your statutes. Let them take the right path, rather than experimenting with every bad choice possible. Let them know and believe that You are worth everything that they will go through and every stand they choose to make for Your Name's sake. 

Please, God. Spare them from being like me. 

I love being a mommy and love my girls more than I will ever be able to express. I pray for the wisdom and discernment to show them such love everyday of their lives. 

Happy Mother's Day, y'all!

And then life...

Somehow life has a funny way of becoming oh-so busy. With a husband who travels more often than not, three little ones under the age of 5, a house to run, and somehow a life to be involved in, many of the things that I love and are passionate about get pushed to the back burner. At the end of the day, my brain hurts too much to try to form complete sentences, much less put together a coherent blog of any kind.

And so here it has sat. 

I must say that I have been forced to reevaluate many things in my own life lately. I have been challenged in what I believe and what it is based upon. I have been requested by some to speak or write about less controversial topics, as it is viewed as being too political. 

I can easily confess that I have a very sensitive spirit. I always have. It has toughened a bit through the last several years, but I still remain very sensitive to many things in general. That's not necessarily a bad thing, though some would argue otherwise. It is what it is, and I remain with the choice of what to do with it. 

I read an interesting quote recently: 

Research shows that the more elements make up your identity, the less threatening it is when any one element is threatened. Losing your job might be a blow to your self-esteem, but the fact that you lead your local alumni association gives you a comforting source of self-respect.

That came from a book that I have been reading through called "The Happiness Project" and has been a great source of inspiration and refocusing on many things for me. I stepped out of the career world when I decided to embrace mommyhood and support my husband's vision as his helpmate. I was by far no expert nurse, but I was a good nurse and loved the opportunity to be a part of a healing process for families at their lowest points. It was a great source of satisfaction and accomplishment. But it was my choice to walk away and I do not regret it. 

But I think it is safe to say that there are days when I flounder as a stay-at-home mom, not able to feel a sense of accomplishment or productivity. I enjoy writing, and yet am challenged most days to say anything beyond toddler talk. 

I have been told that my blog is not an effective way to reach people, or reach out to people. Pow.

I have been told that my posts are too controversial, even political, and pose a problem for those around me. Pow.
I have been told I should submit posts for censorship before posting. Pow.
For a girl with a sensitive spirit, this all comes as quite a blow and leaves me...floundering.
It leaves me with no voice and just really wondering what to do now. And yet God remains to be God over me, and the calling and gifts I have received remain to be there for Kingdom uses.
Defend the weak.
Speak on behalf of those who cannot speak themselves.
Maybe no one reads it. Maybe no one cares. Maybe no one agrees.
It's OK.
So there, I've put it out there. Random, yes. Maybe I just needed a place to start again after not having written anything for so long. Life is hard and complicated sometimes. It gets messy and people take offense. We lack grace and love and would rather close people out than feel awkward or condemned or disliked. And at the end of the day, my introverted self would much rather curl up in silence with a book than engage in risky business. But maybe some refocusing will get me going again. That's what I'm praying for.