It Takes An Army

O exampled love!  O all-redeeming grace!

How swiftly did thou move to save a fallen race;

What shall I do to make it known

What thou for all mankind hast done?

Charles Wesley

Ken and I recently had the privilege of leading a divisional meeting at the Kakamega Township Primary School, one of more than 800 that the Army sponsors in this Territory.  Having arrived a bit early, Ken took the opportunity to take a quick look around the school compound, while I was invited to sit down for a moment in the shade.  As I sat there, I watched one soldier walk around the field on which the meeting would take place, clearing away cow dung. Two other soldiers brushed off the dais and the reviewing stand with tree branches.  School children raced to see who could bring out the most benches and chairs from the various classrooms, and a group of young adults set up the sound system, stringing long wires from tree to tree.  All kinds of people were running to and fro, and I couldn't help but smile as I imagined the women back at Divisional Headquarters who were probably running after the chicken that would become my Sunday meal.

To put on a big event, I thought, it takes an army.

While in Nairobi at COAL (Conference of African Leaders), Ken and I decided that we would spend our free day doing some shopping at our favorite mall.  The plan was for our driver to drop me off at Westgate, take Ken to do a few errands, and then bring my husband back in time for lunch and a movie.  Approximately five minutes before Noon, Ken arrived at the mall, came up the steps, and met me just inside the front entrance.  He asked if I was ready to go upstairs for lunch.  I hesitated a moment, weighing a meal at my favorite restaurant against a visit to another shopping mall across town.  When I decided on the latter, Ken quickly got on the phone to see if he could catch our driver before he left the area.  Miraculously, he was still in the parking lot, and he promptly drove back to the front steps to pick us up.

As we drove away, the shooting started.  We had just missed being part of the tragedy that has stunned the world.

That night, as my husband and I lay in bed, we thanked the Lord for his protection.  We prayed for the hostages, we asked why we were spared, and we asked Him to show us what we should do as His servants.  We may never receive answers to all of our questions, of course, but the whole experience reminded me of the fact that, as scripture says, we are engaged in a war.

This war is not about religion, race, or politics.  It is not a war against certain people or any particular nation, but rather a war for all people.  Satan's desire is to steal, kill, and destroy, and he does this best when he seeks to destroy relationships, whether it is the relationship between God and man or the relationships we have with one another.  Hatred and intolerance are his greatest weapons.  But our God is Love, and that love is far more powerful than anything Satan can throw at us.

Kakamega soldiers on their knees, equipped for combat.

To win this war, I believe, it takes an Army.  And as one member of this great Salvation Army, which is motivated by, committed to, and loudly proclaims God's love, I for one am ready for battle. 

Overwhelming victory is ours through Christ who loved us enough to die for us. 

 Romans 8:37 TLB.

Holding Nothing Back

Silver and gold I have none, but what I have, I give to thee.
Acts 3:6 (NLT)
 

 

Yep, it's been one of those weeks.  Somehow I have managed to flood our washroom on five of the last seven days, and on one of the two days when it didn't flood, the showerhead flew off.  Power has been intermittent at best, and the internet almost unknown.  And this morning, I did a week's worth of cardio after walking into the web of a rather nasty-looking spider.  Whew. 

Speaking of power, we recently celebrated the arrival on our compound of a brand new generator, provided through the kind support of the Florida Division.  The workmen duly lowered the generator into position, only to discover that the structure in which it was to be housed was too small.  So, the workmen did the only reasonable thing.  They promptly demolished the structure and started to build a bigger one on the same site.  It's taking a bit longer than they expected because of daily thunderstorms, but they soldier on.  Actually, the storms have sometimes been violent enough to keep Ken pacing from window to window to check on the state of the large trees around our house.  Several times he's banished me to the back room just in case.  So far, though, I'm glad to say that ours is the little house that could. 

Despite the dicey electricity, I decided at one point this week to make large pot of chili, so that I could freeze small portions for us to eat on those days when meat isn't available.  So I set aside an afternoon for soaking, washing, chopping, and boiling.  I even dumped in the tin of  black beans I was saving for a special occasion.  Oh, the anticipation!

When the chili was done, I dipped my spoon into the simmering pot, blew gently on the mixture, and gingerly brought it to my lips.  Yikes!  It was so spicy I ran to the refrigerator to find something, ANYTHING, that would take away the burn.  Apparently, I badly underestimated the strength of our local spices.  Wow!  After many attempts to 'fix' the concoction, Ken put his distraught wife to bed with a promise to "take care of the problem."

Oddly enough, the chili was not in my kitchen the next morning, and neither of us has mentioned the episode since.

After all this, I had had enough.  But on Sunday morning, Ken and I got up, put on our best white uniforms, and went to our corps for Harvest Festival Sunday.  It was a good service, but about ninety minutes into it, something happened that we didn't expect.  We watched silently as hundreds (yes, hundreds) of men, women and children, one at a time, proudly brought their gifts to the altar.  Most were small monetary offerings, all of which were given joyfully, but one woman brought a chicken, another a bag of maize, and one man laid stalks of sugar cane next to the Mercy Seat.  These folks had no cash, but they still wanted to bring their gifts to God, to present Him with the first fruits of their harvest.
 

Tithes at the altar

Suddenly it hit me.  God can use anything for His glory.  Not just money or things or small birds, but pleasures, hardships, adventures, disappointments - nothing is wasted when it is given to Christ.  The key is just to give it.

Right now, I am again sitting in the dark, hoping that the power will come back before I lose more meat in the refrigerator.  But you know what?  I've already given it to Him.  The Lord can have my meat.  It's all His anyway, and knowing that gives me a whole new perspective.

The Family Firm

We must work the works of Him who sent me and be busy with His business while it is daylight; night is coming on, when no man can work. 

 John 9:4 AMP

 

For months,  Ken and I had been looking forward to traveling back to the States to see family.  When I thought about reuniting with my loved ones, I would either giggle in anticipation or tear up with thanksgiving.  My emotions were on a rollercoaster, and my dear husband graciously endured the ride.

Finally, the day arrived to make our long safari to the airport.  Ken and I locked up our cottage, piled our bags into the vehicle, and said our goodbyes to all of our colleagues on the compound.

 

Before reaching America, Ken and I had the privilege of attending the High Council in London, where we participated in the election of the 20th General of The Salvation Army.  High Council members from around the world first met for two days to discuss the issues we face in our work to win the world for Christ.  Then, after listening closely to the words of each candidate and engaging in much prayer and meditation, we cast ballots for our new international leader.  For me, the High Council will always be a spiritual experience during which I reflect upon my own calling, and having witnessed the way in which the Lord moved during this High Council, I know without a doubt that God will bless our new General in the days to come. 
 

Praying for the Lord's guidance at the High Council.

After the High Council, we jumped on a plane to participate in the USA Southern Territory Bible Conference in Lake Junaluska, North Carolina, and it was there that we were reunited with Ken's family and with all of our friends in the South.  It was simply wonderful.  On top of everything else, we had the opportunity to enjoy such delicacies such as Krispy Kreme donuts, Starbucks lattes, Dairy Queen blizzards and dark chocolate Snickers.  God bless America.

One week later, we jumped on another plane and travelled to Seaside, Oregon in order to meet up with twenty-two members from my side of the family for a celebration of my father's 80th birthday.  Anyone familiar with the Lloyd clan will correctly surmise that we had a wild time with lots of laughter . . . which predictably turned to tears when the time came to say goodbye. 

I will admit that, in the course of our three-day return to Kenya, tears came to my eyes with some frequency.  But I eventually came to the conclusion that they were not just tears of sadness, but also of joy.  I realized that I was just leaving one part of the family in order to reunite with another, and that this wonderful thing called "family" was another gift from God in my life.

Another namesake, the newest baby Jolene, in Shigomere Division

 

The German poet, Johann Schiller, once wrote:

"It is not flesh and blood, but the heart which makes us fathers and sons."

  

There's a lot of truth in that.  Biology is one thing, but ultimately it's the power of Christ's blood in our hearts that makes us family in an eternal sense.  Whoever we are and whatever we're doing, we are brothers and sisters in Him, joint heirs to His promises.  So as a Salvation Army officer, I am truly a daughter working in the family business.  And what a wonderful business it is.