Thankful...

... for the news from Ilula that Sifuna and his family are doing really well.

My colleague Davis wrote this update recently. If you've walked the journey with the Sifunas and I over the last 2 years, the update will either make you smile or tear up.

Thanks for the news, Davis!

My heart is smiling

More often than not, we have absolutely no idea how God is going to use the challenges we go through... Mama Chiri reminded me of that today as we were sitting in her small living room while her husband, who sadly was drunk again, kept trying to pester me to give him money, which he's never done before. In between me trying to ignore Baba Chiri, his wife was telling me how God had used our ordeal with removing jiggers from the Sifuna kids to prepare her for serving her own brother.

She explained how she found her younger brother a month ago, literally debilitated by jiggers. He couldn't walk nor do anything to care for himself. Their other sister (a nurse) had heard that Mama Chiri had helped a family with jiggers, and hence she was called in. Without even a hint of negativity, my neighbor shared with the biggest smile how God had prepared her to serve her brother. It took her a month to get rid of all the jiggers.

"Just wait!" Baba Chiri said, and next, Joseph walked in. Evidence A. He rolled up his pant legs to show me how his knee folds are now clear of jiggers. He took off his shoes to prove that his feet are now 100% jigger free. He showed me his fingers, the tips deformed from the pests, now healed.

"Isn't God amazing, Adele?" Mama Chiri gloated. "He used you to prepare me to love my brother."

Wow.

So, I'm at Ilula.

Came here this morning before church to celebrate the 5th birthday of the Ilula Children's Home. There was lots of sharing, cutting of cake, words of encouragement, songs and more. I had lunch with the Rono kids and spent the whole afternoon catching up, answering questions, getting and receiving hugs from the kids. Lay on the lawn and visited with Mary. I went to see the Sifunas. They're doing really well.

A sober and joyful Silas Sifuna

The Sifuna family. Silas brought me the children's school binders to show how well they're doing in school. Even little Kiprono will start going to preschool next month!

The Sifuna family with a distant relative of Mama Chiri, one she "inherited" recently to raise after the child's mom passed away

I went to "eat news" at Mama Chiri's home. Had two cups of chai next to the fireplace at Mama Kigen's. Showed the kids photos. Answered a million questions, including, "Adele, which side will you play on when the Kipkaren staff are coming to play games against Ilula staff?" (I decided I may just have to take photos!) Went to tuck in some of the kids. They're getting big.

"I've really, really missed you," I could tell them with all honesty. I know they're speaking the truth when they responded with their "Even us. We miss you!"

Tomorrow morning, I'll be heading out right after sunrise for a management retreat. The rest of the management team are already at a campsite about an hour from here. I asked to come tomorrow only, so I could see everyone at Ilula. I'm glad I did.

It was hard to see that Baba Chiri has slipped back into his drinking habits ("I only drink a little," he told me...), but it was amazing to see the growth in the children and in individuals in our community.

It's good to be here, even just for a short while.

Home in Ilula

I could see the children off in the distance as I drove down the road towards Ilula. They were heading back to school after lunch, but were curious to see which vehicle was coming up the road. Once they recognized me behind the wheel, they came running! I couldn't even get out of the car; they were coming up and hugging me through the window.

And peppering me with questions!

"Will you stay, Adele?" I will indeed stay for the night, but I need to head out again tomorrow to pick up an intern from the airport and go back to Kipkaren.

"Is this your car?" No, it's not. It belongs to Kipkaren. I'm just borrowing it today. I took the team to the airport this morning, and will leave again tomorrow to pick up the intern.

"Pole for your car, Adele. Can we put in a new battery and then it will go again?" I'm afraid not. It needs much more than a new battery...

"When will you come to stay for a long time, Adele?" I live in Kipkaren now. I only come to visit you. I'm so glad to be here to see you.

"Will we see a movie tomorrow?" No, but I'll show you pictures after school of my trip to America!

"Will you show the children in Kipkaren a movie...?" No, I don't show them movies... Are you excited to see photos from America today?

And so it went on and on, till they had to run to school. The pre-schoolers hung around after I parked the car, eager to help me carry my few things to my house. When the older kids aren't around, some of the little ones come out of their shells. Edison kept wanting to hold my hand. He rarely says a word. Kipkurui wanted to impress me by eating as many clovers as he possibly could. Kibiwott was climbing as high as he could into the bottlebrush tree by my front door and jumping down to impress me...

After several cups of chai at staff members' homes, I went to show the children the promised pictures. Afterwards, Vitaline wanted to pray for the people in Iowa who had lost their homes in the flood. (They've been praying for Iowa ever since I sent a message asking them to pray for the river not to flood the city of Cedar Rapids!)

I stopped by their devotions later, and was asked to share a Word. I shared from Jeremiah 29:7, a verse that has been mulling in my mind the past few weeks. It wasn't hard for them to understand the concept of the verse. I encouraged them to even pray for the crops of their area, for people's land to yield much fruit, for the families in their neighborhoods. I love seeing them "get it." Believe me, they'll pray!

Now, I'm off to dinner at the Ronos' home. I had forgotten how much colder it gets in Ilula! In Kipkaren, the temperature is rarely below 60. At Ilula, especially during the rainy season (now), the temperature easily drops to the 40s and 30s at night. Tonight is one of those chilly nights.

But my heart is warm with love for these children. I have missed them immensely.

It's good to be home.

Highs and Lows from the Past Two Days

1. (H) Being back in the Eldoret area, in my own car!
2. (L) Being weary of the young guys on the side of the road, wondering if they were part of the mobs that burned down homes, cars, and chased away neighbors.
3. (L) Seeing several homes and businesses in the Ilula neighborhood burned to the ground.
4. (H) Seeing the kids! I stopped by the Sifunas' home first to greet them, and then went to Ilula. I hadn't seen those kids since their Christmas party. They came running, shouting "Adele! Adele!" when I pulled into the Ilula compound.
5. (H) Giving and receiving hundred-some hugs! Each and every child came to hug me.
6. (L) Not seeing little Kanmau... I found out later that he's down with toncillitis, and was able to go and see him today.
7. (H) Seeing many of the staff. They're amazing people, really. The night watchmen came to my house to greet me and announced joyfully, "Happy New Year, Adele!" Due to the post-election violence, many people are really celebrating now for the first time that it's a new year...
8. (H) Having dinner at the Ronos' home.
9. (L) Hearing from them some of the details of all that had transpired around the Ilula area...
10. (H) Catching up with Don and Amy by phone.
11. (L) Waking up to terrible winds blowing for what seemed like hours throughout the night! And since this is the height of the dry season, the dust finds its way into everything. My counters, plates, cups, everything was covered in a thin layer of red dust this morning. Yes, yes, the windows were closed.
12. (H) Hearing the kids sing worship songs at the top of their lungs during Sunday school.
13. (L) Seeing the kids' faces when they realized I was really leaving again for Kipkaren...
14. (L) Seeing more of the devastation in the neighborhood and all along the way to Kipkaren.
    
15. (H) Seeing friends and neighbors at Kipkaren.
16. (H) Being welcomed home by Flannel. She's not the most affectionate cat around, but she literally came to sit with her front paws on my feet as if to say, "Don't go away again!"
    
17. (H) Getting all my stuff unpacked and my new picture hung.
    
18. (H) Having incredible chicken parmesan with rice and crunchy green beans at William and Michelle's house.
19. (H) Getting to bed at a decent hour. Or so I hope, at least.
    
20. (L) Having issues trying to post photos along with this entry. Click on the pictures on the right to see some photos from Ilula.
    

Howling winds & kids' chatter

I spent the night in Ilula. Woke up to the sound of the wind howling across the plains. Ilula is at the top of a plateau of the Rift Valley, at about 6,500ft. When the wind blows here, there's little to stop it, especially now that all the maize (corn) has been harvested.

Now, an hour after I've been up, the sound of the children's voices rise above the sound of the wind. I love that they pass but a few feet from my bedroom on their way to school. Some are laughing. One was singing. It's hard to believe they're taking year-end exams today. It's even harder to believe that these kids had seen more pain in their short lives than I've probably seen in all of mine. God truly has done a great work of healing in them!

Last night, I went to visit with them at dinner time. They were thrilled to know I'm heading to Nairobi to pick up Danette and her team. They remember her from when Danette and I led VBS on my first visit to ELI in 2004, and they remember Lori Traeger. They were so excited to know Lori's bringing Andrea, her daughter! Jonah, one of the quieter boys, can hardly stop smiling. He'll get to meet Nan, his sponsor.

I also told the kids that I have some good news to share with them when the team is here and their exams are over. (As an early Christmas celebration, I'm taking all the Ilula kids to Kipkaren for a day on December 12! It is going to be a day packed with FUN stuff. Games, a bull roast, as few speeches as possible!)

***
I've got to run. I'm off to Nairobi now to go and finish up one photo project and then meet the team from Iowa! It's going to be good to have good friends around for a few days! Ah!

Sunny Sunday

Can you see how red my face is? OK, I know it doesn't look so bad in this picture, but believe me, it's red. I look like I'm having a hot-flash like my Yaya friends, but rest assured, I'm not. It's from the sun. I was outside for a couple hours this morning taking new photos of the children in Ilula. Didn't think of putting on sunscreen. Came back home with my face on fire. OK, not really. But burned. I usually am careful. Just didn't think of it today since it was rather chilly in Ilula.

I went to Ilula yesterday afternoon, just to go and visit my friends there. Spent much of the afternoon visiting with the children. It was SO GOOD to see them. They always have a million questions! Then I had dinner with the Rono family, went to say good-night to all the kids, and had a conference call till late in the night. Today was spent taking photos, catching up with colleagues, and finally heading back to Kipkaren, after much chai and talking. It was dark by the time I rolled in.

I don't like driving here at night. You don't see African pedestrians easily, and there are many pedestrians. More than there are cars and trucks on the road. The other reason why I don't like driving here at night is because of the trucks. It's a 2-lane "highway" out to where I live. It's the road that goes from Mombasa all the way to Kampala, Uganda, so there's a lot of truck traffic on the narrow road.

Anyway, I'm home safely. Flannel's glad. She rearranged my home for me while I was gone. How nice of her.

Oh, I saw the Sifuna kids while in Ilula. Tomorrow, they are going to school to register! They'll start school in January. Three of the four kids, that is. Kiprop and Jepkemboi will be in Baby Class (preschool) and Jemutai will be in Middle Class (Pre-K). I love knowing that these kids will have an opportunity to learn.

Their dad, by the way, has been working at the ELI training center in Ilula for the past month, helping in the gardens. Apparently, he's doing a great job and they'll keep him on. What a huge change in their lives. Now he won't have to walk around every day looking for a day job!

Other than that, I'd love to upload some of the photos I took today, but I am wiped out from the sun. And am going to end this day by relaxing a bit, perhaps watching a movie. You'll have to see the photos another day.

Lala salama. Sleep in peace. I'm sure I will. If Flannel will let me.

P.S. In case you're looking at the picture wondering what's behind me: I don't have space for a closet in my house, so I put up a bar on the wall where clothes hang from. And the white thing is my mosquito net. Wouldn't want to live without it out here.

Bottomed-out

So, I got stuck today. Sort-of. I don't think one can call it being stuck when you were able to get yourself unstuck by just putting some rocks under your one wheel. Perhaps I was just temporarily without traction. Temporarily inconvenienced. Bottomed-out, but just for a bit.

Erin, a visiting ELI staff member from our US office, was in the car with me heading from Ilula to town when we got delayed. We had a carload full of people we had picked up along the way. The usual thing here, you know. But they were heading to church (as were we, actually) when the road was deceiving. Much of the rest of the road was already dried out by the sun. But this patch was in the shade, so . . . yeah, well, we got delayed.


The passengers all hopped out and continued on their journey to church. There was nothing they could do, anyway. As I looked to see what I could do, a quick crowd gathered. Some men offered to help push, but I had called guys from Ilula to come, so I told them so. Another man thought we should get a tractor to pull me out. Others just stood and stared. One asked if I had tried engaging 4WD. Ummm, no. (Of course I had. The car was, in fact, in Differential Lock Low. Not that I know what exactly that means. But it's supposed to be used "in likelihood of traction being lost." Today was a good time to try out DifLock. It didn't work. Not at first.)


So while everyone watched and the boys giggled at me starting to pick up rocks, I did just that. I started placing some rocks in front of the wheel. And behind it. Just so it had something to grip onto. Erin grabbed some more rocks. The boys stopped giggling, realizing we wazungu women were serious. They brought a few more. All in all, we must've just thrown about 10 rocks in front of the wheel and one behind it. Then I simply pulled forward and "Voila!" it went. Erin had to catch up down the road, when I got to solid ground.

Then we had to get the mud washed out from under the car. So we missed church today. Or, at least, we missed worshiping with others. Life here is church, many a day.

The rest of the day didn't hold nearly as challenging events as getting unstuck. No other rocks had to be hauled around, at least.

We met colleagues for lunch. Went to see their house in town. I had about 6 cups of chai in the process. Got sunburned and rained on in the same lunch hour. And after we picked up another colleague from the airport, we headed home while the rain was still coming down in a steady drizzle. Got home just before dark.

As I got home and visited with God about some challenges of the day, I wondered how often I get deceived by how simple something looks, only to get stuck. And Jesus reminded me that He is my rock. With him, I can get out of any mess.

I may still get out dirty on the other side, a reminder of my choices, but I'll get out. And then I can be cleaned up.

And so right now, it's time to go take a shower and get rid of the mud that's still holding on to my legs as evidence of this morning's delay. And then Jesus and I can continue our chat about life's lessons...

Got into the shower just to discover there is NO water coming out of the faucets tonight... TIA. TIA.

Joy!

Joy!
Originally uploaded by Boyznberry

This morning, my friend Kierra came to call me. "There's going to be a baptism in the river today. John wants you to be there."

John Rono has been working in my yard since I've been in Kenya. I had invited him, his brother Emmanuel, and their cousin Eva to attend the Kipkaren Youth Camp this week.

I was thrilled when I heard that he was getting baptized.

Walking down to the river, Kierra and I were chatting about who'll be baptizing the youth. "I'd really, really like to baptize John," I said. "I've known him. I know his walk with God. I know his family. It would be an honor to do his baptism!"

So I asked the pastor, Peter, if I could baptize John. "Sure!" he said with his big smile. "In fact, why don't you just stay in the water and keep baptizing others."

As 250 young men and women gathered at the shore, I noticed Emmanuel also getting in line to be baptized. He and John stepped to the very front of the line, and I got to baptize them both of the young men. Then Pastor Matekwa and I took turns to baptize the others, perhaps 20 or so young people. (Two pastors were also in the water with us, baptizing others.)

John's mom called me later in the day. "I just wanted to thank you," she said. "John and Emmanuel called us to tell us the news. In fact, they had called earlier in the week to talk to us about getting baptized this weekend."

My heart overflowed with joy for these two young men. What a joy to follow Jesus' command to baptize in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

***

Youth camp is now wrapping up. The young people are heading back to their villages. Please join me in praying that God will continue the work that he started in each and every life this week.

Laughter and Tears

This afternoon, I arrived at Ilula after being in Kipkaren for four days. Though I had had a regular routine of 4 days in Kipkaren and 3 days here for a while this year, the kids here got used to me not traveling while teams were around. One would've thought that I had been gone for weeks!

Little Brian waited patiently while I visited with his dad, till he realized I wasn't seeing him. He threw his arms around my legs and gave me the tightest hug a 2-year-old can give. Edison just hung out next to me, smiling shyly at my every so often. And then giving me his yellow rubber band as a gift. Jesse had to show me how he can do a roll. Raymond brought "Where's Waldo" to point out on every page where they had found not only Waldo, but also the wizard and some of the other hidden objects. Scopia came to show me her new dance moves and asked me to give her one of my signature hugs. ("No, not like that! One of those...!" she'd say and stand on her toes to try and get her arm around my shoulders from behind me.)

I joined my friends Mary and Ruth in the kitchen, and while sitting around a little fire where Ruth was cooking rice for a special dinner, we shared some news, even some tears. Then I joined them for dinner at Ruth's house, where we welcomed some new staff. Over dinner, chai and fellowship, we laughed till the tears rolled down Ruth's cheeks for the second time today. Exactly what we laughed at, I'm not sure. But it was good. And I think the new staff (Luka, Leah and their 3-year-old Carole) felt at home.

Though it was cold and rainy when I finally walked home, my heart was warm. I have grown to love my friends (big and small) here at Ilula.

Starting next week, I'll be spending almost all of my time in Kipkaren. I'll come to Ilula for a weekend visit, perhaps once or twice a month, to show the kids a movie, to have a meal with my friends, to check on the Sifuna kids... But there are far more projects in Kipkaren that need my attention, and in order to get more done, it would be beneficial to be in one location.

I could not tell the kids. I will wait a few weeks before I tell them. How does one make a change like this and not make the little ones feel rejected?

Yes, please. No, thank you.

Back in Ilula. Tonight at the farewell dinner for Olesya, our Russian intern, I helped serve. After all the kids had gotten their food, I went around with the left-overs, dishing out little bit more to whoever wanted some. So I taught the kids some good manners in English. Usually, they'd just say, "Me! Adele! Me!" and hold out their plates. I taught them to respond to "Would you like some more chicken?" with a "Yes, please!" or a "No, thank you." They actually found it quite amusing to have to say that, but I wouldn't give them more food unless they'd ask me properly. Blame the Brit in me, I guess.

Afterwards, I stopped by the Rotich girls' room to get my Where's Waldo? book. A friend had sent it in a care package last week, and the kids LOVE it. In fact, they even covered it in plastic to protect it. They pointed out Waldo on each and every page. Now the book's going to the boys' room. They were thrilled when I explained to them how it works, but I had to bring the book home with me rather than leave it there tonight, since it was after bedtime, and they'd want to stay up and look.

Tonight, even little Dennis started talking with me. He was already in bed with the covers over his head when he kept saying, "Adele!" "Sema, Dennis!" (Speak!) Then he'd just giggle. The kid just turned 3 last week, so he's still learning English. Finally, he just say, "Adele! Kwaheri, Adele!" (Good-bye!) It was time to sleep, indeed.

I'm fighting a cold. Haven't had one in what seems like months. In fact, I can't remember the last cold I had. Not sure where this one came from! Must be from walking home in the rain last night after having chai and Davis and Jen's house.

Do I want a cold? No, thank you!

Would I like to sleep now? Yes, please!

Time Out

Tomorrow is Dennis' third birthday. He's the youngest of our Ilula orphans.

The Rotich boys, being goofy. These are some of the most inquisitive boys ever!

Rogers asked me to take this picture for Danette, who happens to be his sponsor.
He's being a real boy, trying to impress her by doing push-ups. :)

I was in Kipkaren with the team all day. Or, rather, I took them to Kipkaren and then let one of the staff there take them around while I had a great visit with my friends there over a cup of tea. It was a pure delight to just put our feet up for a bit and visit about everything BUT work stuff. When they left, I closed my door and read for a while and even took a little nap. It was just what I needed! Some days, more than others, I really, really miss simply hanging out with good friends. (In case you're thinking I'm just lazing around, the break lasted all of maybe 2 hours.)

After dinner this evening, I went to check on Hillary (he's much better) as well as another boy who had burned his hand. I took a few pictures in their room. We laughed really hard at some of the photos. It was fun to go and hang out with "my boys" for a bit and just be goofy.

Variety Sunday

I decided this morning that I really needed some time out. Though going on safari with the interns might sound restful, it's part of my job, especially when I'm the one who's driving 700 km in two days in Kenyan roads. (Check out the pictures from our time at Lake Nakuru and Lake Bogoria.)

So, this morning, I decided to carve out some alone-time before church. Deciding to do something and actually getting to do it are two different things, especially when there are 8 visitors around for whom I am responsible.

Once they were all in Sunday school classes and I settled in for some me-time, I got a phone call from a neighbor/colleague, Joelle. Could I please help? His sister-in-law was in labor and needed to get to the hospital. I got ready in record-time and headed down the road to pick up Abraham (Joelle's brother), Sally (his very pregnant wife), Jane (a relative) and Loice (Joelle's wife).

Let it be known that I don't wish for ANY pregnant woman to have to be transported on our roads in rural Kenya, let alone a woman in labor! I tried to find a balance between getting to the hospital as quickly as possible and making the ride as smooth as possible. I must've said "Pole!" (Sorry!) 50 times on the half-hour journey to Moi Referral Hospital.

After dropping Sally and her entourage at the ER, I noticed our Trooper (one of the children's home vehicles) parked nearby. I called Laban (the director) and found that he's in the children's ward with Hillary (one of our boys). Hillary's stumped the doctors with a condition they are yet to diagnose. Symptoms are similar to malaria, but it's not that. I went to pray for Hillary and offered to take him home while Laban took care of errands.

I managed to catch the last 10 minutes of church, after which I took the team to Kerio View for a Sunday afternoon breakaway (for them.) A few hours later, I brought them home and thought I might lay down for a nap. But I remembered that little Brian was itching his hand when we passed him on the road as we headed out to Kerio View, so I got my "Kids' Kit" (all the stuff to dig out their jiggers) and headed down the road. Two hours later, I had removed eight huge egg sacs from the side of just one hand. By then, it was getting dark, and I was late for dinner with the team.

I had given the team an assignment to tell me what cultural observations they had made during my day and a half away with the interns, so over dinner, we talked about those observations with the Kenyans who had joined us for dinner.

By the time the team went to put the kids to bed, I was finally able to come home to Flannel, who was delighted to see me. And now, after posting the team's blog entry for the day and uploading photos for work stuff, it's 30 minutes to Pumpkin Time, so I'm going to join Flannel in Dreamland.

First thing tomorrow, I'm driving the team to Kipkaren for a visit. While they tour the center, I'll be taking new staff photos for the ELI web site. Though it'll be another full day (and a day that will inevitably offer new challenges and joys), I doubt it'll include the variety today held.

But who knows? It might offer even more!

Adele's Update | July 2007

As I walked into my home earlier this afternoon, I broke down crying, my heart aching in a way I have never before experienced. …

This morning, I met four children whose little faces are now etched in my mind. I had heard of them last week when someone mentioned in passing that there are two girls living in a little hut in the cornfields, and they take care of their baby brother.

On Wednesday, I sent food to them, and I ran into the two girls on the side of the road on Saturday. This morning, I went to their home with two friends. We took a mattress and bedding, and told them we’d be back in the afternoon. We wanted permission from their father to bathe them. Here’s their story, some of it told by the oldest girl, some related by their neighbors, some by the father.

Kiprop, Nancy Jepkemboi, Joanna Jemutai and Kiparono

Maybe a year ago, shortly after the birth of Kiprono, their young mother left. What exactly the story is behind this, we won’t know. The dad says the mom is a prostitute. I don’t know. But she left her three oldest children (Joanna Jemutai, a very small 9, Nancy Jepkemboi, maybe 6, Kiprop, 4?) in the care of their father. He says he went to fetch the baby a few months ago, when he found out that the mom was drinking with the baby tied to her back, and that the baby was starving.

But now their dad is hardly ever home. He works in the area, weeding people’s fields. Colleagues who live next door say the man doesn’t come home till late at night, and when he does come home, he’s usually drunk.

I’ve seen the girls on the side of the road a few times recently, carrying water. I always waved and smiled, and on Saturday, I had a Kenyan colleague with me, so I stopped and visited a little. As I headed home, I knew I had to do something! I shared with Ruth, a Kenyan friend, and she immediately said that when I go, she’d go with me. She’s been praying, asking God to show her if there are neighbors who she is to serve.

Yesterday, Karen (a friend visiting from the US for a few days) and I bought a mattress, some sheets, and a blanket. This morning, Ruth, Karen and I walked just 10 minutes or so down the road to visit the girls and take them the bedding. We knew they’d also need a bath, but wanted to ask the dad first if we could do that later this week.

When we walked up to their home, I called, “Hodi?” (“Can I come in?”)

A little voice answered from within, “Karibu!” (“Welcome!”) and the door of the wooden hut swung open. Joanna’s little face lit up as she saw me, and she flung her arms around my waist. She had remembered me from our meeting on Saturday. But more importantly, her smile said, “You remembered ME!”

The smell of urine hung heavily in the small room and around little Kiprop, whom I lifted onto my lap. The children don’t speak any English, and Ruth started visiting with them in Nandi (a dialect of Kalenjin). As she related their story to Karen and I, I couldn’t fight the tears. It’s impossible not to be moved by their story.

We told the children we’d be back in the afternoon, and as we walked home, I asked Ruth, “How is it possible that they’ve been our neighbors, and we’ve never known of them? How many times have I driven past their house with a car full of food, not knowing that they’ve not eaten for days?”

But now we know. We know their names and their faces. And more importantly, they are sleeping in a clean, warm bed tonight for the first time in years. And the children themselves are clean for the first time since their mother left. Getting them clean, though, is what caused me to break down crying today…

We did go back this afternoon, taking with us a tub of warm water, soap, Q-tips, Triple Antibiotic Ointment, Band-Aids, tootbrushes and toothpaste, and towels. We found their father, Silas, at home. Ruth explained to him that we were caring neighbors, and we visited for a while. He told her the story of their mother leaving and said yes, we can give the children a bath. (When Ruth’s husband Philip came later, he visited with Silas while the dad was chopping wood. He encouraged him that even though he lost his wife, he should take care of the children as not to lose them, too. Philip shared with him that though life seems hopeless, there is hope in Christ. Philip will go back to visit more with Silas, and he’ll help him rebuild the floor of the house as it’s below ground level, causing the wooden hut to flood every time there is rain.)

While Philip was visiting with the dad, Ruth, Karen and I bathed the little ones. One by one, we placed them on a wooden stool and bathed them in warm water. And as we started washing their little hands and feet, I could do nothing but pray for God to restore them. If I didn’t pray, I would have broken down there and then and sobbed.

Their little fingers were black with parasites eating away at the tissue. And so were their little feet. I could not get myself to look at the soles of their feet, but felt every little pebble embedded into the necrotic tissue. I cut their nails, but some were so infected that I couldn’t come near them or they’d start crying. The four-year-old was brave, however. Even as we cleaned out an oozing boil on his leg, he hardly flinched. But later, as I rubbed his body in coconut oil and dressed him in clean clothes, he lay his little head back against me, hungry for some motherly love…

When we were done, we asked the father if we could put the mattress, sheets and blanket on the bed. He agreed, hesitating at first. But Ruth explained that we would like to do that so we could send a picture to the friends who bought the mattress. (In fact, I know she said it to make sure the mattress gets on their bed, not his.) As I removed the layers of rags from their bed, I gagged. Three children have been sharing this bed, and in the seven months they’ve lived there, I doubt the urine-drenched rags have ever been taken outside.

Philip ran home to get some socks and shoes for the children, and as we waited, I sang songs to them and then took out a little bottle of bubbles from my pocket. It seemed so little, but the kids had never seen anything like it, and even little Jepkemboi who had hardly smiled all day broke into a smile as she tried to catch the bubbles floating by…

As we bid the family farewell, I had a sense of hope. These children will know that Jesus loves them! I believe they’ll get to go to school someday, too. For now, they’ll come to Sunday school. In fact, Jemutai had already come this past Sunday because Philip had walked by them on the road earlier in the week. She had asked him, “Will you take us to the wazungus (the white people)?” He said she’s welcome to come to our place on Sundays. And so she came. I believe her family will get to know Christ through her!

So, what am I to do next? I’ve asked Mama Chiri (a neighbor) to take them a quart of milk every morning. Ruth and I will visit them at least weekly and check up on their wounds. We’ll bathe the little ones, and Philip will keep reaching out to Silas through friendship. And we'll take them food from time to time.

1 John 3:16-17 has been on my mind since I first heard of these children. As I shared with the visiting team and our Kenyan colleagues tonight, several of us were crying. “Show us how to love, Jesus! May we not miss the opportunities around us to show your love.”

Thank you for touching my little neighbors’ lives today through being part of this journey.

(In the last photo, next to me is Jepkemboi, then Kiprop, Kiprono, Jemutai and Ruth.)

We serve a BIG God

Spent much time this morning interviewing one of our children for a story I'm writing. It was incredible to hear how much this child has gone through in her short life, and to hear her say, "The best thing about being here? Here, I met Jesus!" Having talked about some of the stuff really hurt, but she was strong, until she started talking about her older sister... "I hear she is sleeping outside. She has a baby, and she's sleeping outside with that baby. Sometimes when I lie in bed, I cry because I think, 'Agnes is somewhere outside...' I really hope to see her someday soon and tell her about Jesus and I pray she will find a good, Christian husband to care for her." Wow. What does one do when you hear something like that? I just wished I could hop in my car and go help Agnes... But we don't even know where she is, so that's not an option.

The highlight of my visit, though, was when I remembered that two nights ago, when I went to say good-night to the kids, this girl showed me a boil she had on her neck, asking if I had medicine for it. I told her to come to my house the next day so I could put something on it, but right then, I prayed for God to heal it. When I asked about the boil today, it was gone. As in, not a trace of it! We serve an AMAZING God! I so desire to see Him do more healings in this community--even, or maybe, especially, healing people with HIV/AIDS! I will keep praying!

Later in the morning, while we were in church, Nelson (one of the dads) was called to take someone to the hospital. Nelson was supposed to preach. I didn't know that until his wife Dorcas, who had been leading worship, said, "Adele, will you introduce the visitors (interns) and then bring us the message?" I literally had a minute before I had to get up and preach! God proved to be faithful. I do believe he showed me what to share, and I left humbled yet again at what an awesome God we serve!

Let the children come...

Yesterday, the children's home ran out of water. Not sure what the issue is. Probably similar to mine. There's city water, but it's not filling up the tank that provides water to the home... So by 6:15 this morning until now (11), there has been a constant chatter outside as little ones were filling up buckets from this side of our compound and carrying them over to the home. And since they're on this side of the compound, all of the kids want to say good morning to me.

I know, this is reality for many a missionary who works at/near an orphanage! I've visited my friends in Mozambique and experienced the same. It's also day-to-day reality for mothers, I believe. Except, as a mom, you can't tell the visitors to come back later... :)

As I've been trying to do Bible study and to read, I've had a knock on my door every few minutes. Literally!

"Adele! How are you? Which movie will we see today, Adele?"

"Wait and see."

"Wait and see? What is that one about?"

I chit chat for a little bit, then tell the little ones I'll visit later this afternoon. A few minutes later, someone else knocks.

"Adele! How is your day? Will we see a movie today? Where is the kinyonga (chameleon), Adele? What is this flower called? Did you have a good safari (journey)? Your house is clean, Adele! What are you doing? ... Studying the Bible? What are you studying in the Bible, Adele? Adele, what is this basin for? ... A bird bath? Why would the birds bath, Adele? ... Is it just so you can watch them, or to catch the birds?"

So I visit a while, silently praying that I would not get so caught up in the stuff that I need to do that I miss out on the opportunity to just love the kids, to minister to their little hearts by listening to their stories, by answering their plethora of questions. Could it be that that was the dilemma the disciples were facing when they sent the children away and Jesus interrupted, saying, "Let the children come to me..."

God, grant me wisdom to know how to truly minister to the little ones' hearts while trying to be wise in having healthy boundaries.

What would Jesus do? I think I know.

Age

The other day, a neighbor was over here for chai. We were chatting about this, that and the other when she mentioned how it takes her long to walk to the main road every day to catch a matatu to the school where she teaches, "because I'm in my old age now."

"If you don't mind me asking, how old are you?"

"I'm 45."

Forty-five. Old age? Here, people are encouraged to retire at age 50, so I guess considering that she's close to retirement, she might think she's old. It just baffled me, though! Forty-five is still young! She easily has half of her life yet ahead of her. It's probably very cultural, our approach to age and aging. I am a firm believer that you're only as "old" as you allow yourself to feel. Granted, I can tell my body's getting older. (I'm fast approaching 40, but then again, "Life begins at 40," right?) But I don't even think of myself as "middle-aged"!

Perhaps I was influenced by Doris, with whom I worked for almost 8 years. She's 77 this year, and I'd say she still won't say she's old. She took up scuba diving in her 40s.

I'm rambling. Need to get ready for church. I'm in Ilula today since I was asked to take the interns to Kipkaren on Friday night so they could see the children's home on that side.

Point in case

You may have thought that I was exaggerating in yesterday's post. Not quite. When I got back from the children's home office around 7 tonight, I discovered that there was indeed some level of water pressure in my house tonight. I immediately jumped into the shower. But every so often, the pressure would go way down to a trickle. My electric shower works with water pressure. Too little pressure and there's no heat. But with just a little pressure, the water is scalding hot! The only way you can get it to cool down is to turn on the water to pass through the heater faster. But without water pressure, that's an impossible task. I'd turn off the water for a while, turn it on again to get at least some water. Ah, the joys of living in rural Kenya. Just as I was halfway done washing my hair, bam! the lights went out. So, no electricity. Just a trickle of water. Enough to get the shampoo out of my hair. I'm sure by now you can't wait to come and experience this for yourself. It truly is an experiment in patience. Our friends at Kenya Power promised that power will be back soon. They're just doing maintenance on a nearby line. And they kept their promise. Moments ago, after an hour of reading by gas lamp, power came back on. I love Kenya Power. Even the crickets outside are singing songs about how great Kenya Power is. Or so I think, at least. They might simply be enjoying the cool air.

If your phone, power and water all work at the same time...

... you're probaly not be in Ilula. A good friend used to say that of Malawi, where she was a missionary. It's more and more true of this neck of the woods.

We've had a lot of issues with water recently. I have to remember to turn on the water before getting soap on my hands. Or test the shower before getting ready to get clean. But even if you do so, often times, when you're halfway through a shower, the water would just stop. Just like that.

Similarly, we've been having a number of power outages recently. I am not sure how things work at home, but out here, the fuses in the huge transformers seem to blow every so often, as it did today. By the time I got to Ilula, power had been out all morning. Kenya Power didn't know of the problem. They came out to fix the fuse 5 hours later. I'm thankful indeed that they did come to fix it. As Westerners, we're pretty dependent on power. (I am, at least. My computer battery only lasts that long. And the stuff in your fridge gets bad after the power is off for some time.)

On a different note: Today, before I left Kipkaren to return to Ilula, I stopped by the school to take some pictures. A first-grader was crying really hard out on the playground. I went to check on her and found that little Viola had a terrible sore on her toe. Puss was oozing out... I was trying hard not to look grossed out by it. I could never be nurse! I did take her to the clinic, though, where they took good care of her.

Back in Ilula, I visited with the kids for a few hours this evening. Like they often do, the kids had a million questions about everything under the sun, from Osama to earthquakes! They also got to sing "Happy birthday" to my brother Henk. The kids were laughing hard at me speaking Afrikaans on the phone to him. Henk is 42 today. This is a photo of the mountains in the town where he and his family live. (This is where Henk works.) South Africa's been exceptionally cold recently. Places that rarely ever get snow, got snow.
So, happy birthday again, Henk. Hope you have a wonderful year!

On that note, I'm off to bed. Lots to get done in the office tomorrow.

Saturdays

I'm tired and it feels like I have a cold or something coming. No good. I'm going to Kakamega Forest with the Kipkaren management team tomorrow. I don't want to be sick. I think it's from the lack of sleep last night. The youth group from our church in Ilula had an all-night prayer and praise event last night. It's wonderful that they did that. It's just challenging when something like that is within a few steps from your bedroom window.

Today was a productive day. Got lots done, including some gardening, washing my car, as well as showing the rest of Cars to the kids. They had watched half of the movie a couple of weeks ago when the power went out. The kids were a little perplexed at why Lightning McQueen didn't win the race, but other than that, they were their own selves, cheering every time their hero car made a good turn.

It's late. I'm tired. The wind is blowing. I think we'll have more rain tonight. It's been great falling asleep to the sound of rain pounding on my mabati (sheet metal) roof many nights. I wonder what sounds I'll hear in the forest tomorrow night...

Hi-Lo

I once saw a movie where the family played this game at dinner table, asking what everyone's highs and lows of the day was. Just a different way of saying, "Tell me about your day."

My highs for today?

• Praying with our interns this morning and really being excited about the things they are experiencing by being here.
• Getting an early-morning phone call from my sister Liesl, a call from my folks later plus a text message from my other sister, Sanet.
• Studying Swahili. It's encouraging to see how much I really do understand.
• The storm. We had a huge thunder storm this afternoon. Terrible lightning and thunder. Heavy rains. But it was wonderful. Great weather to get lots of work done. It inspires me!
• Having a tropical burger (sort of) for dinner. I have a pineapple in the fridge. And ground beef. And bread rolls. So I made a burger. I even put some pickles on it. I had made these last year and everyone whom I had given a jar to raved about it, but I've never dared to try them myself. Till tonight. They are good!

Lows?

• Trying to connect to a person who accidentally left his cell phone in my car yesterday. Which meant I had to make a trip to town, which I wasn't planning on doing. (It takes up much of your day.) And then being confronted by some hard-core beggars and vegetable vendors in town. It's always hard for me to know what to do. I usually don't give beggars money because of lots of glue sniffing in town. But some days it's just harder than other days to try and get into your car with bags and people crowding you asking for money or trying to sell you tomatoes and onions. I so want to respond in the most Godly way. I don't always. Sometimes it's just overwhelming. Sometimes I just want to get into my car... I walked off to go and buy bread for the one lady, but when I came back, she had left.
• Being far from friends. I don't think that'll ever get easy.
  

Tomorrow, I'll be in town, doing work from some corner in a restaurant while waiting for the interns to get their e-mail and shopping done for the week. Will be meeting with Kierra (ELI staff) and I'll be planning the leadership retreat to be held in the Kakamega Forest later this weekend. I really am looking forward to that!

I'm off to be to the howling of the area's dogs.