Kingdom Planting

Let us thank the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. 

It was through His loving-kindness that we were born again to a new life

and have a hope that never dies. 

1 Peter 1:3a 

Because they bring disgrace upon a family and their community, it is still legal in Kenya to kill a baby born of incest.  One community is now debating whether a four-day old baby should be allowed to live, and in Kakamega, newborns that are the product of incest are either abandoned on the doorstep of a local children's home or just disappear.  They never have a chance.  It's all very sad.

Recently, I was called down from my office to meet two young boys who were being treated for chiggers by one of our officers.  Before I got there, I was warned that their toes had been eaten away, and so I tried to prepare myself for what I would see.  It wasn't enough.  All that was left of their feet was masses of damaged flesh.  But that wasn't the worst part.  The worst part was looking into their eyes.  The boys didn't speak.  They just stared back at me, expressionless.  They'd lost all hope.

After doing what we could to treat their wounds, we got the boys some shoes and trousers, and then we invited them to join "Martha's Boys," our new program for the street kids of Kakamega.  It's not much, and we run it on a shoestring.  But the boys keep coming.  Later, as I walked backed to our building, I prayed, "Lord, how can we treat all these young boys, and then just turn them back over to the streets?"  Blinking back the tears, I prayed for a miracle.  I prayed for a facility where we could care for them properly.

Ken and I recently visited Turkana, which is by far the most isolated command in our Territory.  We arrived at District Headquarters to the sight of over 100 students from the Army's school in Lokitaung, all of whom were smartly dressed in their school uniforms, waiting for a ride to the school.  I was told that, because the Army doesn't have its own vehicle, the school will hire buses to take them on the eight-hour journey.  You can image my surprise when a cattle truck pulled up a few minutes later and the students started climbing on.  They were going to stand shoulder to shoulder in the back of that truck for the entire journey, which would traverse some of the most brutal desert conditions in Kenya.  And they were looking forward to it.  One of the officers said to me, "The students are happy because they're the lucky ones.  They get to study."

Arriving for Worship at the Lokichoggio Corps 

Ken and his bodyguards (note the guns!) visiting the new Kasarani Outpost

Before we left Turkana, Ken and I were asked to plant trees to commemorate our visit.  "We have planted several trees here before," I thought, "and they always die."  But I went ahead anyway and did what I was asked, and it was then that the Lord reminded me of a quote:

  “Love is hope when reason despairs.” – Jack Hyles

We weren't planting trees, really.  We were planting hope.  When everything around us seems bleak, it is hope that keeps us going.  It's what convinces us that things will change and that miracles still happen.  So yes, I'll plant a seed of hope.  Because if I can do that much, God will take care of the rest.   

What a Thrill!

I came that they may have and enjoy life,
and have it in abundance (to the full, till it overflows). John 10:10 (AMP)

This month has had its ups and downs.  After weeks of eye pain and consulting two local doctors, my loving husband contacted the American Embassy for a medical referral. Based upon that information, Ken flew me to Nairobi to meet with a surgeon, and within two minutes, he determined that I had a small piece of hard plastic embedded in my eye.  I'd been suffering for more than two months, but he removed it in ten seconds. I don't mind saying that it took every ounce of self-discipline at my disposal to keep myself from dropping to my knees at the doctor's feet in gratitude.  

Power has been sporadic at best, at one point forcing me to shop at the market in the dark.  Not a good way to select meat, let me tell you.  And at home, our lights have been flickering on and off almost constantly. Add the loud music from a three-day wedding celebration in another compound across the valley, and it's been like living in a disco (not that I would know!)

Last weekend, I was the guest at a Home League Congress in the Tongaren Division at which more than 1,000 women were present.  Many ladies arrived at the school compound in which the event would take place carrying suitcases on their heads.  At the same time, a line of buses raised huge billows of dust as they lurched from side to side along the dirt road that led to the school.  As each one arrived, the ladies would pile out, carrying everything they needed for the weekend -- firewood, mattresses, cooking supplies, and chickens.  Wow.  As you might expect, it turned out to be an amazing three-day camping jamboree with, you guessed it, not-stop dancing. 

One corps leaving the Congress in their tractor.

It is circumcision season in Kenya.  So on my way home from the Congress, I saw several parades, which are understood here as celebrations of the fact that local boys are becoming men.  These ceremonies play an important role in the culture of western Kenya, but I confess that I do worry about boys who are essentially kidnapped, stripped, and then cut without their consent.  And my heart breaks for those families that will lose their child at the hand of an inexperienced cutter.

A circumcision celebration in Mbale

Put it all together, and you'll understand that this month has been a wild ride.  A Pinterest quote says it all:

Life is like a roller-coaster.  It has its up and downs. 

It's your choice to scream or throw up your hands and enjoy the ride!

Yes, there are days I want to scream.  But God has made a way for me to live a life of joy and victory.  So today, I'm going to sit back, throw up my hands, and enjoy the ride.

Change Me

Do not conform yourselves to the standards of this world, 

but let God transform you inwardly by a complete change of your mind. 

Romans 12:2a  (GNT)

Throwing her arms around me, a woman that I haven't seen in years exclaimed, "Mama, you look wonderful.  You haven't changed a bit!"  I was skeptical, of course, but since I turned 53 this week, that compliment was a lovely gift.  Maybe my extensive maintenance routine and all the lotions and potions I use every day really does make a difference.

Kakamega has recently experienced some violent storms.  Last week, the sound of hail pounding the metal roof on our quarters was so loud that Ken and I couldn't hear each other at the dinner table.  So we ate in silence until we looked up and saw water beginning to pour into the room. Unable to communicate in any other way, Ken and I waved our hands wildly and then scrambled to put out a collection of bowls, buckets, and towels.  Once they had been placed strategically around the room, we sat back down at the table, smiled at one another, and finished our dinner to the romantic sound of a waterfall.  

That's not how I would have reacted a few years ago.

The biggest news around town these days is that our local airstrip is now operational, with (almost) daily flights to Nairobi.  So since Ken and I had to visit the Nigeria High Commission, we booked a flight.  We arrived at the airstrip and sat down in the small departure lounge, patiently waiting for our flight to be called.  Ken and I watched as a small, single engine plane touched down on the tarmac (a bit too hard for my liking), and I suggested that it was just delivering the mail.  But then the attendant told us that our briefcases were too big to keep with us.  That's when I realized that this was OUR plane.  I swallowed hard, surrendered my bag, and received in return a small brown paper sack containing a dry sandwich and small bottle of water.  At that point, I determined that any questions about the entertainment system would be superfluous, and I slowly climbed up the few stairs into the back of the plane (Note to self:  next time, wear trousers).

It was at this juncture that I noticed the distinction between our airstrip and the plane.  The airstrip was new, and it looked great.  The plane, on the other hand, was relatively old, and most things seemed to be broken.  In fact, I thought I saw the words "Wright Brothers" on one of the wing struts.  The pilot turned around, welcomed us on board, and then we were off . . . on what was undoubtedly the bumpiest flight I have ever experienced.  In the course of the next hour, we flew through two rainstorms.  During the second, I squeezed my husband's hand so hard that it turned white, and I yelled into his ear, "Next time, we drive!"  Ken just smiled and patted my hand.

On the way back the following day, Ken did his best to distract me by pointing out the herds of zebra and giraffe that we flew over.  In fact, I actually started to enjoy the flight until our pilot made a turn that was a bit too steep, which caused the plane's early warning system, in a voice eerily reminiscent of our Garmin, to say, "Caution. Insufficient  power."  Gulp.  A few minutes later, as we crawled out of the plane in Kakamega, it took all of my self-discipline to refrain from kneeling down (in papal fashion) and kissing the ground.

Ken tells me that it will not be so bad when we fly to Nairobi again next week.  Right.

As we drove home from the airstrip, bumping along the dirt roads, maneuvering through herds of cows, and slowly passing through crowded markets, I thought again about how much my life has changed.  I'm in a different place, and I've learned a different way of thinking, of working, and of serving.  Yet I'm neither surprised nor concerned, because when you choose to follow Christ, doesn't it also mean you choose to be changed?  

The world focuses on the exterior, giving a great deal of attention to beauty, looks, and image.  But Christ works from the inside out.  He transforms our thoughts, allowing us to experience life as one grand adventure in faith.  And it is by living life for Him that we are changed.   Martin Buxbaum once wrote:

Some people, no matter how old they get, never lose their beauty.

They merely move it from their faces into their hearts. 

So as I grow older,  I pray that God will continue to change me, to transform me into His likeness. Perhaps on the day He calls me heavenward, He will throw his arms around me and whisper lovingly, "My, how you've changed."  

Treasure Seeker

^{The greatest treasures are those invisible to the eye, but found by the heart.}

I just love living in Kakamega.  I delight in waking up to the sound of roosters and watching piglets roll around in the mud.  I marvel at how much women can carry on their heads, and how fast children can run after a sugarcane truck.  And then, of course, there are the "unusual" sights and sounds of daily life.  Last week, for example, I saw a drunken cow, a tinsel-decorated coffin on the back of a bicycle, and a family of five riding on a motorbike.  It all prompts me to say to myself, "No, Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore."

Women carrying coal.

I have recently come to understand that, even before I get out of bed in the morning, God has planned a day of adventures just for me.  Sunshine after a storm, a beautiful flower in the middle of a trash heap, majestic birds flying overhead, and the joy of the people with whom I work are all treasures sprinkled throughout my day.  And the more I look for such treasures, the more I find, hidden in the ordinary activities of my day.

Of course, there have been difficult moments in the past few weeks.  In light of Al-Qaeda activity in the eastern part of Kenya, Kakamega has been beefing up security, and everyone is a bit nervous about possible violence in response to upcoming political rallies in Nairobi.  Personally, I've also been struggling with pain in my right eye.  Fortunately, Ken finally convinced me to visit the local clinic (which was a wild adventure in itself), and the eye seems to be healing now.  Thank you, God.

The entrance to the eye clinic in Kakamega.

But despite all of the challenges, I'm still finding treasures.

The Lord has given me the following passage:

And I will give you treasures hidden in the darkness, secret riches; 
and you will know that I am doing this—I, the Lord, the God of Israel,
 the one who calls you by your name.
Isaiah 45:3 (TLB)

Some treasures of God may be difficult to see at the outset, but once you find them, you recognize that they are gifts only He could provide -- like peace and hope and joy.  These are the things He makes available to me every single day.  I am rich indeed.

Love your Story

Let the redeemed of the Lord tell their story.

Psalm 107:2

I blinked back tears as I checked my bags at the counter.  Turning away with a sigh, I was unprepared for the huge sob that suddenly came from deep within me.  Two employees asked if I was alright.  "I have to leave my family," was the response.  One woman smiled warmly and whispered, "It's going to be OK." 

I sat down to wait for our flight and did what I always do.  Watching the people pass by, I made up a wide variety of stories about the lives they were leading.  Some were CIA agents, others circus performers or fugitives.  Their sagas kept me entertained until it was time to board the plane.

Three flights and more than 26 hours later, we arrived at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport in Nairobi.  After the customs agent searched our luggage, Ken negotiated with a taxi driver to take us to our hotel for a few hours of rest before we continued our journey home.  As usual, the taxi was searched before we entered the hotel compound, and our luggage had to be inspected once again by the hotel security officer before we were allowed into the lobby.

It was just after midnight when we finally stepped up to the front desk, where we learned that our "reserved" room wasn't ready yet.  And the internet was down. Welcome back!

This Starbucks only serves instant coffee!

When we arrived in Kisumu the following day, our driver greeted us warmly and loaded our luggage into the back of the vehicle.  As we began the two-hour drive to Kakamega, he updated us on all the latest news, including the long rains that now threaten to destroy the maize crops of our people, and the rioting sparked by a recent episode of child ritual killings.  Fortunately, though, our THQ family is happy and healthy, and there is continued progress on a number of fronts.

As he chatted with my husband, I thought about the vast differences between my life in Kenya and the one which I had just left.  Then the Lord reminded me of the words penned by Franny Crosby:

This is my story, this is my song. 

Praising my Saviour, all the day long.

Home League Singers

Yes, I thought, this transition from one world to another is MY story, an exciting tale that the Lord is writing one chapter at a time.  It would make no sense for me to focus on chapters that have already been written.  Instead I must give myself without reservation to the one I'm living today, with all it's drama, laughter, tears, challenges, and victories.

Thank you, Lord, for being the author of my life.  You're a much better writer than I am, and you've made my life a real page turner. 

  

Angel Wing

If you see some brother or sister in need and have the means to do something about it but turn a cold shoulder and do nothing, what happens to God’s love? It disappears.

And you made it disappear. 

1 John 3:17 MSG

As soon as we left campus, I began to sob.  I mentally went through the checklist of items I knew my daughter would need during her first year at college, and then I sobbed some more.  How would she manage so far away from home?  More to the point, how would I manage without her?

That was four years ago.  Four years of missed birthdays, missed performances, holiday greetings via Skype, and more.  It wasn't easy.  In fact, as I sat in the audience before the commencement exercises began, I couldn't help but complain to the Lord.  I had been cheated.  How could He allow me to miss so many key events in the life of my child?  I should have been there for her.  It wasn't fair.

When her name was called, I sat straight up in my seat, straining to see my daughter as she received her diploma.  For just an instant, I couldn't believe it.  Was that lovely young woman I saw walking confidently across the stage really my little girl?  I jumped up, cheered wildly, and uttered my best Kenyan sigalagala.

When I sat back down, I heard others cheering for my child, and it was then that I realized an important truth.  My daughter has never been alone.  Throughout the past four years, the Lord has used others to stand in the gap, to support her, and to love her. They have all played a part in keeping Jessica connected to the Lord and the Army.  She has been mentored and loved by family, by friends, and even by people I have never met.  All of them have cared for her when I couldn't. And I said to myself, "Thank you, Lord."  

Smith College Graduation

A few days later, while walking through a trendy little bookshop that had been one of my daughter's college hangouts, I read a quote by Luciano De Crescenzo:

We are each of us angels with only one wing,

and we can only fly by embracing one another.

Reading this, I thought back to when we had invited the street boys of Kakamega to visit our THQ compound.  They told us stories of their life on the street. Their clothes were filthy and ragged, and many had untreated sores and wounds.  One young man was in obvious pain, favoring a broken leg that, due to a lack of medical treatment, had started to set improperly.  When we asked how the Army could help, most mentioned simple things -- a shower, clean clothes, a haircut, some food. The more ambitious ones said that they yearned for safety or a chance to go to school.

Cleaning Nails and Washing Feet

Of course, we said that we'd do everything we could to help. Then, while we were waiting for breakfast to be served, I asked if I could teach them my favorite Swahili chorus, which roughly translates as, "With Jesus on the throne, things are getting better." I started to sing, and to my amazement, they all enthusiastically joined in. When I asked how they knew that song, one young man told me that a local church sometimes picks them up and takes them to Sunday School.

Another lesson learned. God does not expect me to meet all the needs of the street boys. He just needs me to stand in the gap. 

Lord, I thank you for all those who helped my daughter take flight.  And I thank you for the opportunity to be someone else's angel today.

Shifting Sand

Come, let us sing with joy to the Lord.

 Let us sing loud with joy to the rock who saves us. 

 Psalm 95:1 

Last Sunday morning, Ken and I climbed into our vehicle and took a long safari into the bush to visit the Mulimani Corps, which is actually built on huge boulders at the top of a large hill.  As we were touring the rocky compound, I couldn't help but imagine myself as a mountain goat -- with heels, of course.  I also started humming one of my old favorites, "On Christ the Solid Rock I Stand."

A few days later, I was given the incredible honor of dedicating a building at the Army's Kolanya Health Centre.  Some of Ken's ancestors (Captains Pell) served at Kolanya in the late 1920's, which made the event even more meaningful to me.

Mrs. Captain Pell 

Construction is not one of my areas of expertise, but as I was shown around the building, I asked the contractor, village chief, and local elders what I hoped were appropriate questions about its foundations and structure.  I think they were a bit surprised by the fact that a woman had been chosen to lead the dedication, but they were all very kind, and they proudly showed off their work.  We then visited the Army's clinic, where I prayed with each patient, and we ended the day with a quick visit to the maternity ward that is now under construction.  Again, I was assured that it had been built on a firm foundation.  What a wonderful ministry!

The Maternity Ward -- Almost Complete!

Visits like that never fail to thrill me, as I'm able to see first-hand how the Lord is using the Army to meet the needs of His people.  I've also found, however, that the next day in the office can often be very difficult, because it's then that I find myself at my desk, trying desperately to find solutions to the difficult problems that confront us.  This week, for example, Kenya's President signed into law a bill allowing men to take as many wives as they wish without consulting their current partner.  Despite the fact that it is now illegal, we are still receiving reports about Junior Home League members being taken by village elders for female circumcision.  The most recent economic survey reported that Kakamega County has the highest number of poor in Kenya, with 56% of the population below the poverty line.  And to top it all off, because desperate people can do desperate things, we always have to be on our guard.

It's at such moments that I thank the Lord for being my rock and my foundation.  When everything around me seems to be shifting, I know that I am safe in His care.

But it doesn't end there.  In my devotions, the Lord reminded me of the song penned by William Doame:

Rescue the perishing, care for the dying,
 Snatch them in pity from sin and the grave;
Weep o’er the erring one, lift up the fallen, 
Tell them of Jesus, the mighty to save. 

It is not enough for me to stand on the rock and declare sanctuary.  I have to get on my knees and reach down into the shifting sands.  I have to grasp the hands of as many as I can, that they too may find safety.