Kenyans can PRAY! oh wow! Today, all of the employees from all of the different MOHI centers in Methare Valley got together for prayer and worship. It was awesome! The service was over three hours, but it didn't feel that long at all (well, except that I had to go to the bathroom, otherwise, it definitely wouldn't have felt very long!)
It was really cool praising with all of them. Which reminds me, I don't think I ever wrote about the first church service here, at Hope Center (at Pangani school). It was awesome! That was the first time that it hit me... I'm in Kenya! We were singing a song in English, then they sang it in Kiswahili. I knew what they were saying and when, but it was in a different language. Then it really struck me "I'm on the other side of the world... praising God... with a totally different people... in a different language... and yet, we are together." It was awesome and eye opening. It makes me want to worship in every language in every country around the world. The connectedness one feels to the people and to God when praising (and to home even), is crazy!
Other news: Soc work is going great! I got to go back to Joska with Isaac finally! I played football with 4 Red and 4 Blue. I have decided to adopt all of them :D (so between 40-60 kids)... I can handle that many, right? Anyway, they were the same boys I had with me the other Saturday when I met Baracka. He joined us too. I was soooo happy to see him again! Tomorrow, we are also going back to Joska. I think I am the most excited about that. I could live there! Anyway, playing with them again was a blast! I found out that Baracka and James are both sponsored. I plan on talking to James more though, hopefully I can see him this week. Rapheal in SW gave me some good questions to ask James to try and build trust (as well as a recommendation to bring candies!) Anywho, there is a boy, Evans, who has been clinging to me a bit at Joska. I think he's twelve or so. I was a little sad today that we couldn't go out there (prayer instead), because Isaaz at said we were returning. Fortunately, I will be out there for church tomorrow to see them, so Evans won't be disappointed. I do catch the students asking "will you be back" a lot at Joska. I think, because they are sort of the golden children (the older ones, away from the slums, some about to go onto high school... truly amazing stories every one) the short-term mission trips (week long ones) always drop by there to check it out... so, these kids see tons of people who "care" about them for a day, but then disappear. I know short term mission trips are valuable, and I know that I personally remember children from Mexico (Poncho in Mexicali, and Michelle from the orphanage)... but still, these kids deserve more. It hurts me a bit to think I only have 6 more weeks to be with them, yet I know that can be a lot of time to a child. Anyway, sorry this is sort of scatter brained... I happen to be talking to my mom at the same time :)
Anyway, my point is that I have a long(er) time then the week missionaries, but shorter time compared to, say, a full time missionary. So, I'm torn on what to think, how involved to get, what I can promise... can I say I'll be back? I don't know that yet... although, I have already brainstormed how to save up 2000 for the flight, and the cost of staying here if I lived with Doug and Jenifer (haha, shhh, dont tell them!)
Finally, some funny stories about the people I'm working with: last night, Doug and Jenifer took us out to Ethiopian food, where we ate with our hands... it was sooo funny to watch some of my fellow interns eat the food!! Also, Julius, our driver, had never had it before. When I talked to him today, he said it was amazing, but so many spices! He prefers Kenyan, but says he is excited to try pizza. Yesterday in soc work, Isaac named me the Head of the Dept. while Josephine (the real head) was out. Today, he made me pinky promise that I wouldn't go back to the US, but work full time here. I told him he would need to tell my mom... he said that wouldnt be a problem. Hah. Raphael has taken it upon himself to teach me Kiswahili. He's going to quiz me by asking me each morning how the weather is, how I am doing, and then asking me where I am going, if I am hungry, if I would take tea, etc. I'm pretty excited though.
Overall, I am very settled in, with morning routines and everything, as well as a snacking ritual when we get back from the centers. It really does feel like home. Isaac didn't have too hard of a time tricking me into agreeing to stay. I told him I can return in two years to be the real head of dept. if he wants, but we'll see about that ;)
God bless. Take care! Will write more soon!
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
James
Yesterday, I met a boy named James. I think I might be supporting him, right now I am praying about the decision and committing him to God in prayer, if nothing else.
He is severely abused by his mother, both physically beaten and emotionally scarred. You can tell because when he talks, it is always in a whisper, as though he is worried how what he says will be taken. Even if Kioko (the social worker at Kosovo) or I talk to him... then there is his short, shallow breaths, as though he is ready to take flight the very next moment. Finally, there is his glazed over eyes as he stares off into the distance, never making eye contact, as though he is in another world... and he deserves one. He deserves so much more than what he has. His mom sells beer here, which is illegal (it is home brewed with no license, in the slums, and is sometimes so intoxicating it can be lethal). She doesn't own her shop or a home, so she rents the shop and she sleeps there at night. He, and his siblings (2 brothers and one sister) go to another home to sleep. He has no space to call his own. He hasn't done his homework in about a month. Some of this is his own fault, but part of me has a hard time understanding how he can be to blame for anything. He spends his afternoons home from school fetching water for his mother. When he finishes, it is often time for bed, or, if he can, he decides to play with friends instead of do homework. He is afraid of adults, even teachers, and Kioko. My prayer is that for once, being an outsider can help. Maybe not being from here, not Kenyan, can actually help me connect. Or, if nothing else, I have 6 more weeks here to love on this boy, James, to get him to see that people aren't all like his mother. Some people are good. Some people love him the way he deserves to be loved, the way Christ loves him. People like Kioko and his teachers at Kosovo (the center in village 2 of Methare valley) are here to love on him, to help him, to show him Christ in real and tangible ways.
Please pray for James. Pray that he would know Christ, that he would be safe tonight, that he would do well on his exams all this week (midterms for all the centers of MOHI). Pray also for me, that God would give me discernment in whether or not to sponser James, in how to love him such that he understands, and how to love his mother as well (cuz I am having a hard time doing so, even thinking about her makes me sick and angry.)
Will write more later.
God bless
He is severely abused by his mother, both physically beaten and emotionally scarred. You can tell because when he talks, it is always in a whisper, as though he is worried how what he says will be taken. Even if Kioko (the social worker at Kosovo) or I talk to him... then there is his short, shallow breaths, as though he is ready to take flight the very next moment. Finally, there is his glazed over eyes as he stares off into the distance, never making eye contact, as though he is in another world... and he deserves one. He deserves so much more than what he has. His mom sells beer here, which is illegal (it is home brewed with no license, in the slums, and is sometimes so intoxicating it can be lethal). She doesn't own her shop or a home, so she rents the shop and she sleeps there at night. He, and his siblings (2 brothers and one sister) go to another home to sleep. He has no space to call his own. He hasn't done his homework in about a month. Some of this is his own fault, but part of me has a hard time understanding how he can be to blame for anything. He spends his afternoons home from school fetching water for his mother. When he finishes, it is often time for bed, or, if he can, he decides to play with friends instead of do homework. He is afraid of adults, even teachers, and Kioko. My prayer is that for once, being an outsider can help. Maybe not being from here, not Kenyan, can actually help me connect. Or, if nothing else, I have 6 more weeks here to love on this boy, James, to get him to see that people aren't all like his mother. Some people are good. Some people love him the way he deserves to be loved, the way Christ loves him. People like Kioko and his teachers at Kosovo (the center in village 2 of Methare valley) are here to love on him, to help him, to show him Christ in real and tangible ways.
Please pray for James. Pray that he would know Christ, that he would be safe tonight, that he would do well on his exams all this week (midterms for all the centers of MOHI). Pray also for me, that God would give me discernment in whether or not to sponser James, in how to love him such that he understands, and how to love his mother as well (cuz I am having a hard time doing so, even thinking about her makes me sick and angry.)
Will write more later.
God bless
Saturday, June 13, 2009
I Have Seen Where God's Heart Beats
Wow. Kenya... wow. I won't be able to write down even a tenth of what I have experienced. Maybe my experiences are too many, and maybe I am a poor writer. Either way, I will do my best.
Our first day here was fine. We got to see the house we were staying in and the village area. We met Jenifer and Doug (missionaries, 5 months here thus far, from Chino, CA. They have 3 kids) as well as Wallace and Mary (they are the two in charge of Missions of Hope International, the group we are here working with. Mary started it around 10 years ago.) Our houses are great. I remember thinking "huh, doesn't 'seem' like I'm in Kenya."... whatever that means. The traffic was interesting getting to the homes of course, driving on the left side of the road, no traffic lights or signs what so ever, and these crazy taxi/bus like vehicles called Matatus that drive as though it is the apocolypse. It is like Mr. Toad's Wild Ride meets Indiana Jones Ride meets Dr. Suess... if that means anything to you.
The next day we got a tour of Methari Valley, the slum we are working in. Less than 2 sqaure miles serves as a home to nearly a million people, all living in tiny shacks. Now, I say shack, and you might picture a wooden structure off in the distance, in a green wheat field or something. What I am describing as shacks or shantis are tiny metal boxes. They are proper height, but the floors are tiny and often dirt. One woman, Grace, who was over 50, lived in one that was maybe 4 feet by 6 feet... with 10-15 other people on any given night. The metal used would maybe be used for a shed back in the states- ridged silvery stuff, often rusted, nailed together on a weak wood frame. These shantis are all squashed together. The "main road" is maybe 6 to 8 feet wide at best, often lined with street venders (people sitting on the ground with pots of food, or a tiny grill, or bags of peanuts, or candy bags), chickens, goats, perhaps a cow, dogs, cats, children playing, old men drinking or talking, women washing clothes or catching up on the daily news. Everything stopping, of course, to look at the mzungu walking past (white person/ European) escorted by a social worker with MOHI (Missions of Hope). Down the main road are smalley "alleys" which are smaller than three feet, of which half is unmaneuverable due to sewage, mudd, or a stream of murky grey water.
Despite the poor quality housing, poor sanitation, plentiful trash and dirty animals... the people are awesome! Those who work at MOHI are great. There are 8 centers throughout the Valley, with a total of 3000 kids in them (school). "Center" brings to mind perhaps a nice YMCA facility... what I mean is a cement multiple story building with pretty open class rooms. Yet, the fact that 3000 children from the slums are in school, as high as grade 8, is impressive. I was talking to Wallace today, and he said no one knows of a Methari child in high school (yet). So, MOHI is doing amazing things already! They really are transforming the Valley. The main thing is the difference between development and relief. Relief is after an emergency, is short term, and is freely given... Development comes in to fix a long, ongoing issue by working directly with the people, finding out their biggest needs (as they see it), and empowering them to do something. Some might say it sounds hard, complicated, and time consuming. I would say... it is. However, if we want to see any changes, we want to see permanent ones. Development is the key to that :)
Man, I feel like I can't organize my thoughts.
The first few days here were tough. I was feeling angry with everyone because of the situation in Methari, then upset and depressed, then guilty. Doug said something amazing though, "God isn't into the guilt thing" and that really changed my perspective on things. So, since then, I've been seeing God's joy in the people I meet, seeing His heart for them. I can see Him at work, through MOHI and all the missionaries here (whether they are from abroad, from up country, or from Nairobi itself). This place is truly amazing. I don't ever want to leave.
As for the people in more detail... I can't say enough about them all, but I can talk a bit more about the group I will be working with mostly. Doug and Jenifer have been awesome, like home away from home in some ways. Now by bringing America here, but by being relatable. Issues that come up are easy to talk to with them. Wallace and Mary have been fantastically awesome too! They are so welcoming, and they encourage all of us so much. What they have started here is truly a work of God, and letting us partner with them is such a blessing. I'll be spending the rest of my summer in the social work department. In the mornings, we will be making home visits. In the afternoon (after lunch), we will be doing paper work about the home visits. Mostly, we want to keep up on the kid's home lives. Just being in school isn't the answer. We want to make sure the kids are taken care of, that complicated situations are being worked out, that the children are getting the encouragement they need at home (if not, then from us). I am so stoked to be in this department. The people are amazing. Lynn, Charity, Alice, Mary, and Samuel are so friendly. There is also Isaac, the social worker at Joska.
This brings me to Joska. It is so great! It is outside of the slums, and is actually a boarding school, currently housing 500 students. Now, I say boarding school, and many thing dorms. I mean long buildings of wood framing with metal outsides, for both the classrooms and the dorms. Still, you can tell these students are truly blessed to be there. One in particular, Baracka, has made his way to the deepest places of my heart. I only met him today when we were with a short term mission trip (one week) who were doing a sports camp at Joska. I sat next to him during the praise service to kick off the day. I said "una itwa nani?" thinking I could ask his name in my very poor Kiswahili. He smiled, but didn't answer. After asking one more time, I realized that he was deaf (by the cocular implant behind his ear, and the sounds he made). I then borrowed a piece of paper and a pen from someone and asked his name. He wrote out "Baracka." So, we spent all of the service writing things to eachother, mostly drawing pictures and asking what they were, or pointing to things and having me write them, or him teaching me how to sign the alphabet (he is learning English only). After the 2 hour service, we left to eat. Then, when assigned to teams, I found him and decided to help him out all day. He is so cute! He is 11 years old, and is in 4 Red (4th grade equivalent, Red is just how to separate classes within grades). I had a blast with him. It wasn't until the end of the day (which happens to be tonight) that I found out his back story. He is an orphan. In Methari, his name is Tears. He was given the chance to get the cocular implant just last august. He now goes to speech lessons every Tuesday night at Mary and Wallace's house, stays over, and Wallace drives him back out to Joska on Wednesday. I love him. For those who may think this story sounds familiar, aparently there is a missionary movie about him called "One in a Million" about how he got the cocular implant for free. I only just heard of it... all I know is, Baracka is an amazing kid who is from the slums, is an orphan, is deaf, and yet has the cutest smile when I tickle him. Playing soccer and taking pictures also makes him smile. Even writing about him now makes me want to cry. I don't know what else to say.
Kenya has been life changing, and it has only been a week. There is so much going on in all the different departments at MOHI (education, social work, micro-finance, spiritual/counselling, and Community Health Evangelism- HIV/AIDS info, health education and a clinic). It is the most amazing organization I have ever seen. I am already brainstorming things to do to continue on in the states, and a lot of that stuff I'll need you for! But, we'll figure that out later.
I think everyone should come here at some point in their life, no matter how long. I've been here a week, and I feel transformed, and I have 7 more to go. I know God is at work here, and looking at Methari Valley, all the slums, might be overwhelming at times... but talking to someone in MOHI, meeting someone in a micro-finance group who now has a job, meeting a students like Baracka... it changes the world for that person.
I didn't even touch on the AWESOME worship service we had last Sunday, but that can wait I suppose. Just know that God is alive and well in Kenya, and I would say that Methari Valley (arguably the 2nd largest slum in the world) is where God's heart beats. His spirit flows through each and every alley of Methari. His love surrounds the entire city. His arms are squeezed tight around Kenya. This place.... this place... this is what Jesus meant when He said He came to free the oppressed, to minister to the poor, to heal the sick. He was talking, I think in large part, about Methari Valley and places like it.
If Ican challenge anyone to do anything, it would be simply this: pray for these people. Think about them, even though you haven't met them personally... just know that they are here. They need us to pray for them.
God bless. Will write soon!
Our first day here was fine. We got to see the house we were staying in and the village area. We met Jenifer and Doug (missionaries, 5 months here thus far, from Chino, CA. They have 3 kids) as well as Wallace and Mary (they are the two in charge of Missions of Hope International, the group we are here working with. Mary started it around 10 years ago.) Our houses are great. I remember thinking "huh, doesn't 'seem' like I'm in Kenya."... whatever that means. The traffic was interesting getting to the homes of course, driving on the left side of the road, no traffic lights or signs what so ever, and these crazy taxi/bus like vehicles called Matatus that drive as though it is the apocolypse. It is like Mr. Toad's Wild Ride meets Indiana Jones Ride meets Dr. Suess... if that means anything to you.
The next day we got a tour of Methari Valley, the slum we are working in. Less than 2 sqaure miles serves as a home to nearly a million people, all living in tiny shacks. Now, I say shack, and you might picture a wooden structure off in the distance, in a green wheat field or something. What I am describing as shacks or shantis are tiny metal boxes. They are proper height, but the floors are tiny and often dirt. One woman, Grace, who was over 50, lived in one that was maybe 4 feet by 6 feet... with 10-15 other people on any given night. The metal used would maybe be used for a shed back in the states- ridged silvery stuff, often rusted, nailed together on a weak wood frame. These shantis are all squashed together. The "main road" is maybe 6 to 8 feet wide at best, often lined with street venders (people sitting on the ground with pots of food, or a tiny grill, or bags of peanuts, or candy bags), chickens, goats, perhaps a cow, dogs, cats, children playing, old men drinking or talking, women washing clothes or catching up on the daily news. Everything stopping, of course, to look at the mzungu walking past (white person/ European) escorted by a social worker with MOHI (Missions of Hope). Down the main road are smalley "alleys" which are smaller than three feet, of which half is unmaneuverable due to sewage, mudd, or a stream of murky grey water.
Despite the poor quality housing, poor sanitation, plentiful trash and dirty animals... the people are awesome! Those who work at MOHI are great. There are 8 centers throughout the Valley, with a total of 3000 kids in them (school). "Center" brings to mind perhaps a nice YMCA facility... what I mean is a cement multiple story building with pretty open class rooms. Yet, the fact that 3000 children from the slums are in school, as high as grade 8, is impressive. I was talking to Wallace today, and he said no one knows of a Methari child in high school (yet). So, MOHI is doing amazing things already! They really are transforming the Valley. The main thing is the difference between development and relief. Relief is after an emergency, is short term, and is freely given... Development comes in to fix a long, ongoing issue by working directly with the people, finding out their biggest needs (as they see it), and empowering them to do something. Some might say it sounds hard, complicated, and time consuming. I would say... it is. However, if we want to see any changes, we want to see permanent ones. Development is the key to that :)
Man, I feel like I can't organize my thoughts.
The first few days here were tough. I was feeling angry with everyone because of the situation in Methari, then upset and depressed, then guilty. Doug said something amazing though, "God isn't into the guilt thing" and that really changed my perspective on things. So, since then, I've been seeing God's joy in the people I meet, seeing His heart for them. I can see Him at work, through MOHI and all the missionaries here (whether they are from abroad, from up country, or from Nairobi itself). This place is truly amazing. I don't ever want to leave.
As for the people in more detail... I can't say enough about them all, but I can talk a bit more about the group I will be working with mostly. Doug and Jenifer have been awesome, like home away from home in some ways. Now by bringing America here, but by being relatable. Issues that come up are easy to talk to with them. Wallace and Mary have been fantastically awesome too! They are so welcoming, and they encourage all of us so much. What they have started here is truly a work of God, and letting us partner with them is such a blessing. I'll be spending the rest of my summer in the social work department. In the mornings, we will be making home visits. In the afternoon (after lunch), we will be doing paper work about the home visits. Mostly, we want to keep up on the kid's home lives. Just being in school isn't the answer. We want to make sure the kids are taken care of, that complicated situations are being worked out, that the children are getting the encouragement they need at home (if not, then from us). I am so stoked to be in this department. The people are amazing. Lynn, Charity, Alice, Mary, and Samuel are so friendly. There is also Isaac, the social worker at Joska.
This brings me to Joska. It is so great! It is outside of the slums, and is actually a boarding school, currently housing 500 students. Now, I say boarding school, and many thing dorms. I mean long buildings of wood framing with metal outsides, for both the classrooms and the dorms. Still, you can tell these students are truly blessed to be there. One in particular, Baracka, has made his way to the deepest places of my heart. I only met him today when we were with a short term mission trip (one week) who were doing a sports camp at Joska. I sat next to him during the praise service to kick off the day. I said "una itwa nani?" thinking I could ask his name in my very poor Kiswahili. He smiled, but didn't answer. After asking one more time, I realized that he was deaf (by the cocular implant behind his ear, and the sounds he made). I then borrowed a piece of paper and a pen from someone and asked his name. He wrote out "Baracka." So, we spent all of the service writing things to eachother, mostly drawing pictures and asking what they were, or pointing to things and having me write them, or him teaching me how to sign the alphabet (he is learning English only). After the 2 hour service, we left to eat. Then, when assigned to teams, I found him and decided to help him out all day. He is so cute! He is 11 years old, and is in 4 Red (4th grade equivalent, Red is just how to separate classes within grades). I had a blast with him. It wasn't until the end of the day (which happens to be tonight) that I found out his back story. He is an orphan. In Methari, his name is Tears. He was given the chance to get the cocular implant just last august. He now goes to speech lessons every Tuesday night at Mary and Wallace's house, stays over, and Wallace drives him back out to Joska on Wednesday. I love him. For those who may think this story sounds familiar, aparently there is a missionary movie about him called "One in a Million" about how he got the cocular implant for free. I only just heard of it... all I know is, Baracka is an amazing kid who is from the slums, is an orphan, is deaf, and yet has the cutest smile when I tickle him. Playing soccer and taking pictures also makes him smile. Even writing about him now makes me want to cry. I don't know what else to say.
Kenya has been life changing, and it has only been a week. There is so much going on in all the different departments at MOHI (education, social work, micro-finance, spiritual/counselling, and Community Health Evangelism- HIV/AIDS info, health education and a clinic). It is the most amazing organization I have ever seen. I am already brainstorming things to do to continue on in the states, and a lot of that stuff I'll need you for! But, we'll figure that out later.
I think everyone should come here at some point in their life, no matter how long. I've been here a week, and I feel transformed, and I have 7 more to go. I know God is at work here, and looking at Methari Valley, all the slums, might be overwhelming at times... but talking to someone in MOHI, meeting someone in a micro-finance group who now has a job, meeting a students like Baracka... it changes the world for that person.
I didn't even touch on the AWESOME worship service we had last Sunday, but that can wait I suppose. Just know that God is alive and well in Kenya, and I would say that Methari Valley (arguably the 2nd largest slum in the world) is where God's heart beats. His spirit flows through each and every alley of Methari. His love surrounds the entire city. His arms are squeezed tight around Kenya. This place.... this place... this is what Jesus meant when He said He came to free the oppressed, to minister to the poor, to heal the sick. He was talking, I think in large part, about Methari Valley and places like it.
If Ican challenge anyone to do anything, it would be simply this: pray for these people. Think about them, even though you haven't met them personally... just know that they are here. They need us to pray for them.
God bless. Will write soon!
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
How I Became a Nun
I am now in Indianapolis, IN... staying at the Benedict Inn... aka monastary.
I spent today flying about. I thought I was going to miss my flight from Minneapolis to Indy, but then I felt a sense of peace about it all. Having read "An Unhurried Life" in prayer seminar, I realized that missing the flight would be completely out of my control. I could either be stressed, frustrated, anxious and rude... and be late, or calm, collected and polite... and be late. Turns out that going with the latter simply makes the entire experience more enjoyable. I felt relaxed enough to notice to elderly woman and man holding hands as they waited for their turn to get up. When they did, they went slowly, grabbing their luggage carefully. The husband did so, since his wife was too short. She carried multiple bags, and part of me wanted to offer to help, yet she had an expression of competence about her that I feared a polite gesture would be unwelcomed. Instead, I smiled. I also was able to observe a very tall, strong man watching the couple, and I noticed he too was smiling. Together, we shared in a moment that would have gone unnoticed.
I made it to my flight with minutes to spare, which I mean "spare"- not in the exaggerated, "only" sense of the word, but that I had more minutes that could have been spent walking slower, saying a more complete good-bye to Christina, the girl I met on the plane, or perhaps being more thankful to our flight attendants. This time, while in the sky, I looked down at the world beneath me, the little specks moving about (cars) and the slightly larger squares at a stand still. I felt the vastness of the world- and I wasn't even looking at an entire state! It hit me how powerful my God is, and I was amazed as I recalled how He loves each of those specs individually. It felt completely paradoxical.
I landed in Indy safetly, met my CMF group, and we were off. We drove out of the city into less crowded areas, and there we found our Inn. I quickly learned that it was were a group of 60 nuns lived, and some monks. At first, I expected black and white all over the place. Turns out this place is more progressive - nuns wear pants, and even say shit. I talked to Sister Kathy-Ann in depth, and enjoyed her story of becoming a nun (and first hand experience of a nun who says "shit").
The evening has been restful, which is why I am taking time to write. I probably won't again until the night before I fly for Kenya.
As always, God bless :)
I spent today flying about. I thought I was going to miss my flight from Minneapolis to Indy, but then I felt a sense of peace about it all. Having read "An Unhurried Life" in prayer seminar, I realized that missing the flight would be completely out of my control. I could either be stressed, frustrated, anxious and rude... and be late, or calm, collected and polite... and be late. Turns out that going with the latter simply makes the entire experience more enjoyable. I felt relaxed enough to notice to elderly woman and man holding hands as they waited for their turn to get up. When they did, they went slowly, grabbing their luggage carefully. The husband did so, since his wife was too short. She carried multiple bags, and part of me wanted to offer to help, yet she had an expression of competence about her that I feared a polite gesture would be unwelcomed. Instead, I smiled. I also was able to observe a very tall, strong man watching the couple, and I noticed he too was smiling. Together, we shared in a moment that would have gone unnoticed.
I made it to my flight with minutes to spare, which I mean "spare"- not in the exaggerated, "only" sense of the word, but that I had more minutes that could have been spent walking slower, saying a more complete good-bye to Christina, the girl I met on the plane, or perhaps being more thankful to our flight attendants. This time, while in the sky, I looked down at the world beneath me, the little specks moving about (cars) and the slightly larger squares at a stand still. I felt the vastness of the world- and I wasn't even looking at an entire state! It hit me how powerful my God is, and I was amazed as I recalled how He loves each of those specs individually. It felt completely paradoxical.
I landed in Indy safetly, met my CMF group, and we were off. We drove out of the city into less crowded areas, and there we found our Inn. I quickly learned that it was were a group of 60 nuns lived, and some monks. At first, I expected black and white all over the place. Turns out this place is more progressive - nuns wear pants, and even say shit. I talked to Sister Kathy-Ann in depth, and enjoyed her story of becoming a nun (and first hand experience of a nun who says "shit").
The evening has been restful, which is why I am taking time to write. I probably won't again until the night before I fly for Kenya.
As always, God bless :)
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Prepared to Pray. Three Days Until Departure
I just spent a week at a summer conference with the 5C's on Catalina Island. It was amazing!
I feel as close to God as I am. A week of trying out different kinds of prayer probably does that to a person. We did some silence and solitude (one of my favorites, can you believe it?!), fasting and intercession, healing, listening, and delighting in the LORD. We also did some more traditional styles, such as compline (which, to my surprise, I loved!). We opened the day with prayer, we ended with prayer, with lots of prayer in between.
This past week God revealed to me the need for rest, and the silence and solitude are actually spiritual disciplines, along with having an unhurried life like Jesus. The best part about all of this - my summer in Kenya will be a perfect way to start! I've already mentionned some things about our sense of "time" verse most of the other world's. I am stoked to try out these practices, to embrace the rest God has for me in Kenya (which some might think sounds counter intuitive).
I can't even begin to sum up this past week well enough, but I can fill you in on some Kenya stuffs, the theme of this blog.
Money is still coming in, praise be to God! I am home, going to buy a few things tomorrow (the necessary bug repelant, a nice skirt for church, etc.) with my mommy. I'm trying to be patient and live in the moment, to be home with my family who I know I will miss so much in Kenya!
And finally... I feel at peace with whatever God has for me, here or there. This summer and next year. You know why? ... because GOD IS GOOD! :D
I feel as close to God as I am. A week of trying out different kinds of prayer probably does that to a person. We did some silence and solitude (one of my favorites, can you believe it?!), fasting and intercession, healing, listening, and delighting in the LORD. We also did some more traditional styles, such as compline (which, to my surprise, I loved!). We opened the day with prayer, we ended with prayer, with lots of prayer in between.
This past week God revealed to me the need for rest, and the silence and solitude are actually spiritual disciplines, along with having an unhurried life like Jesus. The best part about all of this - my summer in Kenya will be a perfect way to start! I've already mentionned some things about our sense of "time" verse most of the other world's. I am stoked to try out these practices, to embrace the rest God has for me in Kenya (which some might think sounds counter intuitive).
I can't even begin to sum up this past week well enough, but I can fill you in on some Kenya stuffs, the theme of this blog.
Money is still coming in, praise be to God! I am home, going to buy a few things tomorrow (the necessary bug repelant, a nice skirt for church, etc.) with my mommy. I'm trying to be patient and live in the moment, to be home with my family who I know I will miss so much in Kenya!
And finally... I feel at peace with whatever God has for me, here or there. This summer and next year. You know why? ... because GOD IS GOOD! :D
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
How to End
The semester is almost over. Only finals stand between me and home. Oddly, I am not stressed at all. Now that, I know, has nothing to do with my awesome grades (uh...), nor my abilities to pull off amazing grades (hah, so funny...), or all the time I plan to put in studying (who am I kidding?).
I am not stressed because of God's grace. I am reminded daily of what He has in store for me. So, I can go about my day with four exams looming, and not be completely obsessed with how I spend the next few minutes of my day.
Reading Cross Cultural Connection has also taught me a lot about the "American" view of time. We stress about being early or on time to an event. We stress about how fast we can get stuff done. That isn't how the whole world works. Most peoples focus more on what you are doing than how fast it can get done. In other cultures, the relationship of the person who randomly drops by matters more than the meeting at 2 o'clock. The event going on, taking place, matters more than being "punctual." Tardiness is a largely white concept reinforced from an early age. The United States functions by bells. A bell for school. A bell for lunch. A bell to end school. A bell to start church. A bell to let workers know they can go home. So much noise that comes largely from our roots in industry, where efficiency is valued. Where times and dates become important for deadlines and deliveries.
I am looking forward to a summer of a different concept of time. I want to learn how to enjoy people more than my "inner drive to succeed." We measure success by what we get done. Other countries measure success by honor, by family, by relationships, by who we leave behind.
So, trying to take a note from my brothers and sisters in Christ, I am going to spend less time stressing about school and grades, and more time hanging out with friends who I probably won't see over summer, or next semester because they are going abroad, or even graduating. I don't think we were meant to run on stress alone, but on the love and encouragement of our friends around us... but first, we have to take the time to talk.
God bless!
I am not stressed because of God's grace. I am reminded daily of what He has in store for me. So, I can go about my day with four exams looming, and not be completely obsessed with how I spend the next few minutes of my day.
Reading Cross Cultural Connection has also taught me a lot about the "American" view of time. We stress about being early or on time to an event. We stress about how fast we can get stuff done. That isn't how the whole world works. Most peoples focus more on what you are doing than how fast it can get done. In other cultures, the relationship of the person who randomly drops by matters more than the meeting at 2 o'clock. The event going on, taking place, matters more than being "punctual." Tardiness is a largely white concept reinforced from an early age. The United States functions by bells. A bell for school. A bell for lunch. A bell to end school. A bell to start church. A bell to let workers know they can go home. So much noise that comes largely from our roots in industry, where efficiency is valued. Where times and dates become important for deadlines and deliveries.
I am looking forward to a summer of a different concept of time. I want to learn how to enjoy people more than my "inner drive to succeed." We measure success by what we get done. Other countries measure success by honor, by family, by relationships, by who we leave behind.
So, trying to take a note from my brothers and sisters in Christ, I am going to spend less time stressing about school and grades, and more time hanging out with friends who I probably won't see over summer, or next semester because they are going abroad, or even graduating. I don't think we were meant to run on stress alone, but on the love and encouragement of our friends around us... but first, we have to take the time to talk.
God bless!
Saturday, April 11, 2009
4 Weeks of School... 6 Weeks to Go!
While school continues to call, I attempt to focus at all. Classes seem unimportant to what I feel God calling me. Every day I question whether I should stay in Scripps, or leave. Do. Act. Then, I remember God's promises. His promises for next semester, for me at school, and I remember that, at least for this and next semester, I am supposed to stay put.
So I continue, I try to work at all things for the Lord. Whether that means genuinely enjoying problems sets, translating sentences, or readings, or whether that means getting grades good enough to stay in school to love the people around me, I'm not sure yet.
What I know is that this semester has 4 weeks left, and I care more about the 6th week then I do my finals. Thinking about Kenya, wondering what God has for me there, gets to be such a distraction. Earlier this semester, trying to focus while being busy with fundraising, letter writing, and other preparation was tough. But at least then I had a to do list. Now, now I am half way raised (God is so awesome!!! Thank you cards are being processed, I promise!). I have read most of our pre-trip reading. I am getting vaccines. I am done with letters, and making a few phone calls. Yet, these things only shed the tiniest light on what is really going on behind the scenes.
Kenya is on my mind.
I can't shake it. I know God is going to do great things, and I grow anxious, not stressed, but excited. I think about what I might see, who I might meet, what lives I might change, and who might totally change mine. Even thinking about next semester - planning where to live, what classes to take - seems so insane. Who knows what I will care about when I return, or how I will feel. Though, that isn't entirely fair to say. I know one thing holds true - I want to see a revival on my campus. That encourages me, that, and knowing that wherever I may be a few months from now, God remains the same - on the Throne of Heaven and Earth.
So as deep and reflecty as I might get these next 6 weeks, I guess I really should just be still, knowing who My God is, and trusting that whatever comes next I am ready for because He is with me, and He goes before me.
Thanks again for reading!
So I continue, I try to work at all things for the Lord. Whether that means genuinely enjoying problems sets, translating sentences, or readings, or whether that means getting grades good enough to stay in school to love the people around me, I'm not sure yet.
What I know is that this semester has 4 weeks left, and I care more about the 6th week then I do my finals. Thinking about Kenya, wondering what God has for me there, gets to be such a distraction. Earlier this semester, trying to focus while being busy with fundraising, letter writing, and other preparation was tough. But at least then I had a to do list. Now, now I am half way raised (God is so awesome!!! Thank you cards are being processed, I promise!). I have read most of our pre-trip reading. I am getting vaccines. I am done with letters, and making a few phone calls. Yet, these things only shed the tiniest light on what is really going on behind the scenes.
Kenya is on my mind.
I can't shake it. I know God is going to do great things, and I grow anxious, not stressed, but excited. I think about what I might see, who I might meet, what lives I might change, and who might totally change mine. Even thinking about next semester - planning where to live, what classes to take - seems so insane. Who knows what I will care about when I return, or how I will feel. Though, that isn't entirely fair to say. I know one thing holds true - I want to see a revival on my campus. That encourages me, that, and knowing that wherever I may be a few months from now, God remains the same - on the Throne of Heaven and Earth.
So as deep and reflecty as I might get these next 6 weeks, I guess I really should just be still, knowing who My God is, and trusting that whatever comes next I am ready for because He is with me, and He goes before me.
Thanks again for reading!
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