I'm believing God.

Long time ago, I started Beth Moore's Believing God study. Life got in the way and I never completed it. But tonight, I did the final lesson. The journey of believing God continues. It's on this journey that I started believing God for Hannah's healing. Though I thoroughly believed he'll heal her by taking the tumor, he healed her by taking her home. It's part of the journey. I won't lose faith. I won't lose hope.

Part of tonight's homework had us look at 1 Cor 13 anew, and I thought to post the rendition I did some time ago. So I won't forget.

If I speak English, Afrikaans, Chinese or even some Swahili, but I don't love relentlessly, I'm nothing but a dog barking at the moon.

If I share God's Word with children and adults alike and have enough faith to move to Kenya, but I don't have relentless love, I am nothing.

If I give up luxuries, opportunities, and resources to reach the people of East Africa, if I live alone surrounded by Kenyan corn fields, but I don't love relentlessly, it's as if I've journeyed nowhere.

It matters not whether I can speak with a funny accent, pray with passion, believe without limits. Without love, my life is worthless.

Relentless love never, ever gives up, even when life is tough.

Relentless love cares more whether neighbors are warm than whether I'm comfortable.

Relentless love doesn't want what God hasn't given.

Relentless love doesn't do things to be seen or heard.

Relentless love doesn't care about my opinion and my needs, but listens to the opinions of others, and takes it to heart.

Relentless love puts others first.

Relentless love doesn't get annoyed when yet another person asks for money, or drives poorly...

Relentless love forgives, again and again.

Relentless love doesn't rejoice when others fail.

It finds joy in truth and in seeing others discover these truths.

Relentless love doesn't give up, but puts up with all things knowing that it is part of God's greater plan, and trusts that God has the best at heart. Always.

Relentless love seeks to see the best in others. It doesn't look back and wish for better days past. It pushes onward, knowing that beyond this mountain, far greater things await.

Relentless love doesn't wilt, nor dies. It's not "on" one day and "off" another. You can depend on it, even though you cannot depend on things and systems, even though you cannot always even depend on other believers.

Though I don't know or understand all at this stage, the day will come that I will understand fully. I will no longer be craving insignificant pleasures. Instead, I will grow in understanding and maturity. Right now, I don't see things clearly. It's like a window splattered with mud. But the day will come that all impurities will be removed. I'll see clearly, just as God sees me clearly. I'll know Him as He knows me.

But for now, while we are not yet there, there are three things I can hold onto:

Trust in God, always. Believe that He is who He says He is, that He can do what He says He can do.

Let hope be the fuel that compels me to move forward: Hope in God.

And the best yet: Love relentlessly, without ever giving up.

Going for a spin

I had asked some boys at the children's home to wash my car today. It was very muddy, and before leaving it under the care of a colleague, I thought it would be good to get it cleaned up.

When I got to the children's home to move my car, some 4 or 5 kids were sitting on my car's steps, just waiting for me to show up, likely so they could see the look on my face when I see my clean car. I praised them for the great work and asked, "Would you like a ride?"

Of course they did!

I let them (plus a few extra kids) hop in and took them for a fun ride, literally driving in circles on the open field by the children's home.

They giggled. They squealed. They laughed out loud.

They were having a blast. As was I. Some of them may have remembered the day I had picked them up in the village two years ago and brought them to their new home. On those drives, we sang songs and drove through mud puddles. We laughed a lot.

Today, little Dennis kept saying my name, even after I dropped them off. "Sema, Katonye" I'd respond. (Literally, speak, but it's kind of a "yes?" when someone addresses you. Katonye is the name he's given himself. It doesn't mean anything. He just has been using that as his name...)

All he'd do is smile. Maybe he simply doesn't have the words yet to say what's on his mind. But maybe it's just a way to say, "You're my friend. I know you're my friend."

I'll miss him and his buddies.

"Let the children come unto me..."

After sunrise prayer meeting today, I hung around the children's home for a while to visit with friends. These little ones are amazing. They were doing their Saturday morning chores of working in the gardens. (As in, picking up leaves and such. Not hard labor.)

In case you wonder, these kids all go to sunrise prayer meeting on Saturday and Sunday mornings. I absolutely love walking to the field and and seeing close to 100 kids standing all over, simply praying. They're there. Every weekend. I don't always make it.

Faith and Mercy. They're buddies, and technically they're "sisters" since they both live in the same family. They're both about 5. And adorable, yes. You can't help but love 'em.

Mercy, again. She's probably the shortest in the home, but you've got to watch her dance...

Some of the 4- and 5-year-olds. I know. They're the cutest kids. I'll miss them while I'm gone, no doubt.

Something nicer

Seeing that friends have been grossed out by all the termite pictures (did they not see the jigger pictures from before? They were far worse!), I thought I'd post a few random pictures I took this week.

These are crested cranes. Yesterday morning, they were chasing away the hadeda ibises from "their" field by the children's home.

I had dinner at friends' home earlier this week. This is their 1st grader, Faith, doing homework by the light of the lantern. Most homes in our area do not yet have electricity.

Flannel. She's at least 5 lbs heavier than about a year ago this time. And in great shape all round. She's mostly out of her kitten phase now, which means I get to sleep with fewer interruptions. But from time to time (like last night), she still decides to get up at 4 am and start playing with anything she can lay her paws on, until I get up and throw her out the door...

Toy. She's the kid with the big smile in the middle of the photo. She's not an orphan. Her parents work for ELI, though, and she's permanently with all her friends at the home. To her right is Faith*, another little one with twice as much spunk as she's tall.

* NOT the same Faith as in the second picture.

Her Majesty, the Queen

I was working on my book reviews this morning when two members of staff headed my way. “Have you seen the queen termite before?” they asked with a smile. And they produced this thing.
Yikes, indeed.

Want to take a closer look?

It’s as big as it looks. And as gross. Not sure if it’s eggs inside or live larvae, but her whole body was moving. I was afraid she might give birth to thousands of termites in front of my eyes.

Actually, it would be millions. According to this page on Wikipedia, "one queen rules over five million of her offspring. And she's 20,000 times bigger than her subjects."

Rather than do what my gut told me to do ("RUN!") I did what I knew I should do ("Shoot it!" As in, with the camera.) I wanted to share the moment with you all, so I photographed her. When I showed the picture to another Kenyan colleague later, he commented dead seriously, “That one, she must be soooo sweet!”

Crunch… Or perhaps she'd be chewy. Or mushy. But not a chance under the sun is she tasty!

By now, you may think I have a fascination with bugs—termites in particular. I don’t. There are just a number of them around these days. Hence my third post on this topic for this week.

Earlier this morning, I did a photo shoot at the school. I like this picture. It's all of our teaching staff at "Brook of Faith Academy."

There was this aroma coming from the kitchen

So I went to check what the staff at the training center was cooking. It smelled really good. But it didn't look so good. It was termites. Lots and lots of them.




Turns out that the dorm kids had been working hard to catch and fry 'em. Bitok (our training center manager) showed me how scrumptious they are.

Nope. I didn't try some. I've had termites before. Fresh. When I was a kid. And yes, I even had fried grubs when I lived in Taiwan. Just to say I've had 'em. I don't need to eat them again.

Even if my neighbors promise me that they're very, very tasty.

Kiddos, and life around the neighborhood

For those of you who know Ezekiel and Noella, or remember my blog entry about being present at Favor Kiplagat's birth, here's a photo I took of him this morning.

Isn't he beautiful? I'm convinced that he remembers those first 30 minutes or so of his life when I held him and told him what an amazing young man he's going to be...

From his house, I headed to the clinic, passing Brenda and Victor along the way.

(Brenda is Mama Sifuna's kid, for any of you who've been to Kipkaren. She has her mother's smile and spunk.) These two were just heading to the duka (little shop across from our gate) to look for their teacher. They go to the local nursery school. By the time I came back from the clinic (and various other visits along the way), they plus at least 6 others were hanging around the duka. Perhaps their teacher decided not to show up today? That's pretty scary for a 1-classroom school! (Just to clarify, that nursery school is not part of ELI's school...)

I headed up to the clinic, passing this line of safari ants...

I'm glad I saw them before I stepped on them! They are vicious! In fact, they have such a strong bite that they're used traditionally to suture wounds! I cannot imagine what that would've been like. And how many times the nurse would've been bitten himself! (I've heard horror stories of little ones being devoured by them, too. Whether it's true, I don't know. But it's possible. And it's kept me from stepping on safari ants!)

Heading further up the hill, I simply had to take this picture of our neighborhood.
The rainy season has obviously come, washing away the dust from the trees and the grass. Those are Nandi flame trees on the right. Follow the river and you'll see roofs among the trees. Those are new guest housing being built on our compound. My house is about 100 feet further down along the river.

Next stop: The clinic. Took some shots of the staff there, and on my way back to the center, stopped by several homes to greet neighbors. Because it's the right thing to do.

It was lunch time before I could settle in and start my "real" work for the day. But that's not true. The photo sessions--the first one of the day being at 6:30--were definitely part of my job. And visiting with neighbors? If you simply zip by and not take time to visit, there is absolutely no way these people will respect you enough to lend you their ear when you do have something more to share with them.

It's all part of ministry in rural Kenya. It's part of "earning the right to be heard."

Life in the bush. Got to love it! (With that, it's back to the books for me. And dodging flying ants! Inside my house, yes... They're getting in through the crack under the door, or something! But there're more and more coming. Michelle just called. Their house has been invaded by hundreds! Where's Betty when you need her? She'd love to catch 'em and fry 'em!)

Betty

Even just saying her name makes me smile. Betty. She reminds me of Mary Magdalene. Her story is one of God extending her much grace. When she cried out to God just a few years ago, she was dying.

God has since turned her life around. She's still living with HIV/AIDS. But she's using it as a way to serve Him by reaching out to others who are positive. Countless lives have been touched through here testimony and her unwavering faith.

Yesterday, I had the joy of going to visit Betty at her home. I went with the home-based care team.

We found Betty outside her simple home, crocheting. She was beaming when she saw us coming. "Karibu!" (Welcome!)

We all found a place to sit in their small living room. All seven of us. Plus Betty and her mom. We visited about her health, since Betty has had a difficult three months behind her. "Eh! Every time I saw people coming to visit," she said with a smile, "my heart would be so happy. People came to tell me they are praying for me..."

The conversation turned to the weather of late. To everyone's delight, the rains have started. People are starting to plow their fields and plant their maze. With the rains come flying ants.

"You know, those ants are soooo sweet*!" Betty said with a smile. "Yesterday, I found many! They have good, natural fats. You can find me by the road just eating them."

"In fact," her mother interjected in a mix of Luhya and Kiswahili, if you would catch many, you can sell them at the market in Kipkaren... You would make so much money. Eh! They are sweet!" And she proceeded to tell about something else they love to eat as Luhyas. Grubs. As in worms, yes.

Betty had a blast entertaining us with the details of eating the worms... "You find them in the compost," she explained. You have to understand that most of the guests on our team were either Nandis (a completely different tribe than the Luhya hosts) or wazungu (white people).

"After catching the worms, you remove the intestines and you clean them very well. Then you fry them. Eh! They're sweet!"

(Juli's face says it all.)

Betty's mom continued to entertain us with stories, one of which was news of her one grandson talking about dropping out of school. That's a big taboo. People work very hard to pay school fees to send their children to school. "I told him, if he drops out of school, I'm going to take off my clothes!" the grandma proclaimed. Betty explained how it is seen as the ultimate curse for older women to literally bear their breasts to their sons/grandsons, thereby saying that you realize they do not respect you as an elderly woman. (It's very different from the custom of women breastfeeding anywhere and everywhere in this culture. That is not considered offensive whatsoever.)

After a delightful time of visiting and praying together, we took a group photo and said good-bye. We'd be back, yes.

Later in the afternoon, as I stopped by to drop off something, Betty was sitting on a bench in the sun, bathing. She was still smiling. As was I. How very blessed I am to have seen God work through Betty's life to touch many, including me.

Below are some other photos taken yesterday

The ELI Home-based Care Team:
I have been taking group shots for a project I'm working on. Yesterday's visit to Betty's home was made after the photo shoot.

The girls and I. Isn't our area beautiful?

The team, walking to Betty's

Kids along the way, at a nursery school in our neighborhood

* Kenyans use the word sweet to refer to anything tasty, not only sugary.

Worlds apart

Have you ever tried to swallow a spoonful of peanut butter? Working on the book I'm currently trying to check off my list has almost been that tough. Or maybe worse. The first three sections (10 chapters) just about killed me. But the section I'm currently reading is on Islam, and it's very insightful! I've decided to do an independent study on Africa & Islam later on in my program, so it's exciting to me that I'm actually finding the materials on the history and beliefs of Africa's other biggest religion very fascinating. I believe it's good to know what many people around me truly believe rather than make assumptions.

But trying to get through this book is far from all I've done today. This was a WONDERFUL day! Very, very productive. Started out with breakfast and a great time with God in my gazebo. Then I got to plow through work! Easter Monday is a national holiday in many countries, including Kenya, so other than one 30-minute interruption for work-related stuff, I was able to spend the entire day just working, reading, and scheduling meetings for my time in Iowa.

Oh, and chase the cows from my yard every now and then. It's OK that they mow my lawn (and fertilize it in the process), but once they start traipsing through my vegetable beds or eat my basil plants, I chase 'em. Quite a sight, I believe, me flailing my arms about and cows scattering everywhere.

But that's was only about 3 times throughout the day. The rest of the day, I was planted firmly on my buttocks, working. Tomorrow's packed with random meetings again, so if I can get that book read before I turn off my light (around midnight), I'd be very happy.

That gives me 2 hours. Let's see...

(Grabbing a cup of decaf tea first. And paying attention to my co-dependent cat. She's currently making somersaults chasing after a cricket in my house.)

OK, it's midnight, and I still have 6 chapters to read. Not doing it tonight. The section I'm currently on is on the crusades. It breaks my heart to read what believers set out to do under the banner of the cross! I want to understand the impact of the crusades on Africa today, so I'd best leave the reading for tomorrow afternoon, after my meetings. And turn off Mahler's Symphony # 2 and sleep.

Here's a bit of fun trivia. There's a guy in the US called Gilbert Kaplan. He had a dream to conduct a symphony someday. So when he turned 40, he took a year off and studied conducting. Then he hired an orchestra to play for him. He has since traveled around the world to conduct the same piece: Mahler's Symphony No. 2. It is the only complete work he conducts. While I was living in Taiwan and was part of the Taipei Philharmonic Choir, we performed this piece under him. What's odd, though, is that the choir only sings in the 5th movement, for perhaps the last 10 minutes of a 90-minute symphony!)

It's one of those really bizarre events that I'm thankful to have been a part of. Kaplan even gave the entire choir and symphony orchestra a legal, autographed copy of the original score in Mahler's handwriting. I won't forget virtually whispering (ppp) as we sang the last movement, while seated. Then, halfway through it, according to Mahler's instruction, the choir stands as the music gets louder and louder. Good memories... Some days, I really miss that part of my life. But then I think of all the things God's teaching me in this part of the world, and I'm OK being here. My world in Kenya, however, could hardly be any more different to what it was like in Taiwan.

I should sleep. I'm starting to hear the bushbabies outside...

Open invitation to friends in Iowa

My dear friends in Iowa,

I had sent out a mass e-mail, but I don't have everyone's e-mail addresses, so I just wanted to make sure you know about the fact that there's a dessert event at Joe and Delene Meyer's home next Friday night (April 4) from 7-9 pm. I'll be in town and would love to share what God's doing in Kenya.

If you can make it and didn't receive the e-mail or can't sign up at church, please post a comment on this blog so I can let the Meyers and others know that you'll be coming.

For those of you who cannot make it to the dessert, I'll be in and out of town sporadically throughout April, May and June. I'd love to connect with you, so let me know if we can have coffee at Panera's sometime.

Looking forward to visiting!
Adele