The Fog

Fog is where heaven meets earth. 

Last week, we received reports from our district leaders in Turkana that the food situation there was getting worse by the day.  Drought has left all of the rivers and boreholes as dry as a bone, and people are starving.  Animal carcasses litter the landscape, and families have resorted to killing cats and dogs in order to feed the children.  It is estimated that over 400,000 men, women, and children are affected.

What makes this situation even harder for me is that I can put a face to those who are suffering.  When I close my eyes, I can still see the beautiful young girls who danced for me when I visited Turkana last December.  I think of the old woman who took my hand and wouldn't let go until I danced right along with her.  The ladies adorned me with beautiful beads, and then despite intense heat, prepared one feast after another for Ken and me to enjoy.  They were so kind, so loving, and so it's hard to hold back the tears.

A Turkana family

Desperate to help, Ken offered to send funds, but apparently there isn't much left to buy in Turkana.  He then offered to send a truck filled with foodstuffs, but he was told that bandits are hijacking food shipments.  Ken's going to try the truck option anyway, praying that the Lord will work a miracle and get the supplies through to our people.  Both of us know that anything we send will only be a temporary fix, but we just don't know what else to do.

Meanwhile, our work in other parts of the Territory must go on.  On Sunday, Ken and I climbed into our vehicle and made our way north in order to visit a small corps that has never before been visited by Territorial leaders.  We traveled for a while on the main road, but then we turned and drove deep into the bush, leaving any kind of road far behind.  The undergrowth was almost impenetrable, and our vehicle lurched from side to side as it negotiated the rocks, potholes, and sand that conspired to block our way.  Dry branches made a terrible racket as they scraped the side of our vehicle.  At one point, the lead vehicle in our convoy got stuck, and I chuckled when several men, resplendent in their white Salvation Army uniforms, got out to push.  The trip seemed to go on and on, and I couldn't see any end in sight. But eventually, I heard a band in the distance.  We pulled into a clearing and began what I can only describe as a joyful day of worship among the Teso people.  Two hundred of us gathered under a tree to sing songs, dance, and pray.  It was wonderful.

Ken dancing as we were welcomed at the corps.

As we drove home that night, I sensed a connection between what I'd experienced that day and what was going on in Turkana.  In both cases, I thought, I couldn't see a way out.  It was as if I was in a fog. But I think the Lord was showing me that, when I can't see the way, it's often because he's protecting me.

Scripture says in Matthew 6:34:

Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, 

and don't get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow.

My God is in control.  All He asks of me is to take one step at time and believe that, when the fog of uncertainty clears, I will once again have reason to celebrate His goodness. 

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

If life were easy, where would all the adventures be?

Stop the music!  Please!  Someone in a compound just down the road has been playing music -- loud music -- for 36 hours straight now, and there doesn't seem to be any end in sight.  I try to be understanding, knowing that funerals in Kenya are normally accompanied by loud and lengthy gatherings.  It's considered part of the mourning process.  But a woman has her limits, and sleep deprivation is beginning to take its toll.  

And that's not the half of it.  This is the hot season in western Kenya, and ants -- big ants -- are the order of the day.  No matter what I do, I just can't seem to get those little creatures out of my kitchen.  In fact, we're locked in a fierce battle for control of that part of the house.

Fortunately, I have some allies.  Geckos.  That's right.  Geckos.  They're not the cleanest house guests, of course, but they love insects, and that entitles them to somewhat different treatment in our home.  In fact, one of the geckos, who Ken and I have named "Gary" (Boy, we have WAY too much time on our hands!) stops by to visit us every night at dinner.  In fact, if he's the slightest bit late, I begin to worry, because I know it will mean that my battle with the ants will be that much harder later on!

Our Friend, Gary

We got some news this week.  The government has decided that it is going to require all drivers to retake the driver's test by the end of the year.  Now I have to admit that it would be nice if everyone on the road in Kenya actually had a legitimate license, and it would be even better if most of them followed the rules of the road.  But such is not the case, and so I'm rather skeptical about the whole project.  I'd rather just trust in Ken's defensive driving skills and keep my eyes open for things that, well, you'd probably never see back home.

Yes, that's two men and a live pig on their way to town.

I guess that, like most people, I have an opinion on just about everything.  I form judgments about this situation or that person, and there will always be some part of my life that I don't like or agree with. But in my devotions this morning, I read once again what Paul wrote in Romans 8:28: 

 In ALL things God works for the good of those who love him, 

who have been called according to his purpose.

The blaring music, the aggressive ants, the hungry geckos, the unsafe roads.  Whatever I might think about them, all these things have a place in my life.  I can try to ignore them or choose to complain about them.  I can just throw up my hands and bemoan my fate.  Or, I can learn to accept it all as part of an adventure.  A spiritual adventure.  One that the Lord has planned just for me.

OK, Lord.  I'm all yours, and if it's for my good, I'm ready for more.  What's next?