Faithful

-

     Life has been a little slow in Kenya, as it always is. People here don't live by schedules and show up places on time, but simply live in time. The past week has been less than ideal. Exactly a week ago I tried to sort through my feelings:
      “There is a little bit of frustration looming tonight. Apparently the Kenyans are demanding more money to get our crate out of port. They are charging a $500 “fumigation fee” to ensure it is clear of any bugs before they will allow it to be released from port. That bumps the total to over $10,000 on a rate for an orphanage that doesn't look like will be happening. Nothing is going as planned and the road is looking a little stormy up ahead. The odds are stacked against us. Every step we take forward something seems to push us two steps back and we go and go and go but can't quite get anywhere. It's tedious and frustrating...but more than all those things, I know it will be worth it. God is faithful. Patience, my heart. Run. Run with endurance.”
      On top of the news on the orphanage and crate, some members of our team are dealing with parasites and one with worms, so we have been working to get everyone feeling better. The place we are staying, Gail's House, isn't exactly a 5-Star hotel by American standards...or really by any standards. At first I was wary, but it has turned out to be an excellent adventure! Wednesday was rest day because the majority of our team was under the weather.
      I personally liked to think of it as Wife Training Day. I did laundry by hand and hung it on a clothesline to dry. We made french toast and sauteed potatoes with a dull knife, a stainless steel pan, and a hot pad. I swept the dusty floors. Cinderella has nothing on me now.
      Yesterday, though, is officially my favorite day of the trip so far. It was a little like a roller-coaster - down and up and around...I'm still feeling a little dizzy! It was Boys Cooking Day, and they were off to a rough start as my brother, Graham, cracked open an egg and a dead baby chick fell into the bowl of eggs. Plan B was fried potatoes and onions and PB&Js (always a solid choice).
      We then proceeded to ride into town and go to the clinic, where we received news that our team had malaria and parasites. It was disheartening, but now we have medicine, and things should be getting a lot better soon.
      The best part of the day, though, was riding out to Kisyani and visiting the Special Needs Orphanage and Primary School. The Special Needs Orphanage is always one of my favorites. I remembered a few of the people from our visit last year, two in particular: a man with down syndrome in a soccer jersey and a boy who always lays naked on the ground because he refuses to wear clothes.
      They are...they are so precious. So beautiful. Some squealed as we handed out dumdums and tootsie rolls, affectionately known as “sweets,” while others hung back shyly, a little skeptical of the Mzungus (Swahili for white person). They nodded energetically and smiled as we placed flower headbands I had made a couple years ago on their heads. You would've thought we were handing them hundred dollar bills, looking at their excitement.
      The pictures were hilarious, because there was no possible way to get them all to focus and look at the camera long enough to take a picture, so everyone is doing their own thing. There was a sea of waving hands and a chorus of goodbyes as we walked out of the gates.
      Immediately we were mobbed by children from the Primary School who had just been dismissed to walk home. Everyone wanted a high-five or a hug, and for a minute I was physically incapable of taking a step forward as I was literally surrounded on every side. We toured the classrooms and met the Headmaster and Deputy Headmaster (like our vice-principal), who invited us to come back and play anytime. The day ended up being perfect, a rekindling of the first time I fell in love with loving the broken and fatherless two years ago.
      If I am being honest, the past week I have been frustrated with God. Nothing, and I mean nothing, was working out. We were even looking to buy plane tickets to fly home earlier than we had planned because it seemed like we wouldn't have anything to do – no orphanage, no crate, no nothing. I was trying to be upbeat and optimistic, looking at the bright side. But if you gave me one more day, I would have had a breakdown. I have been praying and praying, begging God to do something, and I couldn't understand why He wasn't.
      But today He wiped the fog from the glass and allowed me to see. To see I love it here. I always have. I always will. And yesterday afternoon we received a call – no more taxes on the container. It was out of port and would be here in the morning. It arrived early this morning, with the majority of our cargo intact.
     The whole trip I have been focusing hard on not leaning on my own understanding, and now He has allowed me to understand. The only thing I can say, the only way to express how I feel is this:

He is faithful.

      He is. And all this waiting, suffering, frustration...maybe it is making me more faithful. Last night I found my spot on the roof of Gail's, overlooking the African horizon just as the sun was setting, popped in my headphones, and clicked shuffle on my Worship playlist. The words from the song echoed in my heart, and it was like it was written just for me, just for that moment. 
 
“When I can't feel You, I have learned to reach out just the same.
When I can't hear You, I know You're still there every word I pray
And I want You more than I want to live another day
And as I wait for You
Maybe I'm made more faithful.”



Popular posts from this blog

The Deep End

-
Image
As a child, I was frightened by many things - the dark, loud noises, and spiders just to name a few...(okay, okay, I admit it, that last one still gets me...). But there was one thing, one treacherous thing, which instilled in me a stronger fear than anything else. One thing which made my insides tremble. One thing that I dreaded the thought of more than anything else: the deep end. Oh, I loved to swim. But as soon as my toes could no longer touch the bottom, I would start to panic. There was something about the security of knowing that I could stand up on my own. As I've grown older, I'm no longer scared of the deep end. However, I've discovered that in my spiritual walk, I'm a lot like the 6-year-old me in a swimming pool. I tend to shy away from the deep end. Where I can't touch. Where I am helpless if my own strength fails. Yet, the more I learn about Christ, the more I realize He calls His followers to the deep. He calls us...
Read more

My Favorite Place

-
Image
My favorite place in the world…it echoes with innocent laughter. Children run and dance and play at all hours, radiating joy into every object – the trees, the rocks, the little roadside shops and crooked homes. Dust fills the air and lightly coats everything. My eyes sting of dust and sediment, but mostly they sting with tears of compassion. In every direction is crushed hope, stolen innocence. It is the happiest place in the world. It is the saddest place in the world. If there was an emotion directly a mix of absolute bliss and agonizing, crippling pain, I would use it here. But there isn't. And I can’t describe it. And so I shall not attempt to convey the essence of my favorite place in the world. I will simply tell you where it is, so you can go and see and experience and fall in love, just like me. And this is your warning: It will become your favorite place, too. Africa.
Read more

Go For It!

-
Image
        I have officially been home from Kenya for 5 days! I can't decide whether it feels like yesterday, or a year ago that I was there. I remember it all vividly, perfectly. The dirt roads, the sound of motorcycles going by, and a large bunch of wonderful, beautiful people that I miss like crazy-it is like a crystal clear snapshot that I can see perfectly, but is just right out of my reach. I can't take a hold of it. I can't touch it, feel it. I can't be there.         I have never been a very patient person, and my time is a part of my life I have had a very difficult time surrendering to God. But slowly He is teaching me-or I guess it would be more accurate to say-slowly I am learning. I have surrendered everything I have to God, but often I reach out and try to grab it back in a panic, and every time I find that I mess it up.         Yesterday, we took our family from out of town zip-lining. I absolutely love it; b...
Read more