Great is Thy Faithfulness

I am not sure about you but I am pretty good at doubting God and forgetting His faithfulness and what He has done for me in the past. Our pastor at Perimeter calls it brain leakage. I so often find myself focusing on the problem instead of God. I don't know why. I know better. I have learned but still.....
So here is the latest display of God's faithfulness. In about three weeks, I am homeless. Well, that's a lie. I will actually have a home until the end of November but will not have any furniture. And, when I say no furniture, I mean nothing, zip, zilch, nada, not even a spoon, a cup, a fork, a bed, a refrigerator, a couch, NOTHING! The house that we are staying in is nice but the location is definitely not ideal so we decided to look at other places. I quickly began to panic. All I could think about is the fact that I have no time to look for a place to live. My schedule is too full. I am supposed to travel. There is no way this can work out. Plus, I don't have time to buy all the furniture and household items, plus I did not raise the support for this. I had heard that we could get a furnished apartment but that still did not mean cups, forks, and other household items. I do not have time for this! So many places are so expensive so much more expensive than I had planned for.
So, needless to say I was not relying on God. No trust. I don't know why. The situation seemed impossible to me.
I came home early from one of the villages and ended up having Friday free. Craziness! We looked at some places with the help of a local. We looked at several places, but they weren't great and expensive and some were far but I figured they would be okay and at least we were able to find a place. Then, we went to the last house. It was a house and not an apartment. It was beautiful and a great garden in the back. The inside felt homey and had great furniture plus cups, forks, and a whole bunch more than any other place. The location was great, about five minutes from the office without really bad, bumpy roads. They had guards and dogs which are a great safety help. It was so much nicer than any other place and we really loved it. We were afraid to ask the price.... $200 a month cheaper than the other places! Can you believe it! Unbelievable. Julia and I both knew and the more we learned about the place the more we were in awe of all the ways God provides. INSANE!
Why do I doubt Him! God is faithful, always! He is always working. I am so overwhelmed by his goodness, provision, care, tenderness, and love for me.

The Pied Piper

Last week, I spent several days in one of the villages called Mairowa. We will be starting school there this January, so I spent time there visiting some of the local nursery schools that are hosted by churches and talking with the social worker and pastors. One of the schools is a mud hut with a dirt floor. The benches that the children sit on are just simply branches from a tree. I will never complain about wobbly desks again! =)

Saturday is feeding day. The children gradually trickle in until they get lunch around 1pm. As we were waiting for more of the children to arrive, I just sat on the ground surrounded by children who just simply wanted to touch my funky looking white skin. I think they wanted to see if it would rub off. They could not get enough of my hair and the way it moves so easily. The girls would play with it, comb their fingers through it, and just fluff it up. At one point, I had a little girl sitting in my lap while the rest of the kids were playing around me. I leaned my head over and had my hair fall on her head so it looked she was wearing a mzungu wig. The children squealed with delight.

Later on in the morning, I needed to send a text message that was important. However, Mairowa iko porini, Mairowa is in the bush. So cellphone service is a bit allusive. I did learn that there are some spots where if you hold your phone just right you can pick up a signal. I was not sure where the main spot was, but I was told that I could not miss it. I needed to walk a ways to find the spot and the children inisited on going with me. As I walked up the hill, more children began to follow the strange colored white woman. After a while, I did indeed find the spot. X marks the spot. Literally! There is a little mound of dirt by a tree where the grass has been completely worn down because that is where everyone goes to use their cell phones!

While I was sending the message, more children were walking by to head down to the project for the feeding. The big eyes and silly giggles are just too fun sometimes. Now, that I have learned a little swahili, I love to start speaking to the children. The open mouth stares of astonishment are hilarious. The mzungu speaks our language! They cannot believe it. So, I start to head back down towards the school area where the feeding is. I have now acquired a pretty hefty crowd. I have kids hanging onto every finger fighting for a chance to hold my hand. I begin to skip and so do they. I begin to sing and they just laugh and laugh and begin to join in. I begin to run and flap my arms like a bird and my little fan club follows suit. I feel like the pied piper. What a blast! The children and I can barely breathe because of laughing and running.

I love Africa!

The AIDS epidemic

I have to tell you that the AIDS epidemic has always seemed like this far away horrible thing. I found it so easy to live in my little American bubble. The disease, famine, and poverty did not have an impact on my life really. You hear some of the horrible stories and all of the children that die and you feel sad. However, I have to tell you that the death of this one child hurt more than hearing about the thousands of others. It isn't this epidemic that only affects Africa anymore to me. It is the disease that caused this one, precious boy to suffer and lose his life. It isn't something that is out there, far away, that you read about in a newspaper. It is now about a boy that I played with, laughed with, ate with, and who I cried for.

The funeral was on Monday afternoon. I had meetings that morning and things to do and I just did them. I thought in the back of my mind that I am okay because I knew that he had AIDS and that this was inevitable. I had already come to terms with the fact that he was not going to get better. I know that he is a Christian and I know that He is with Jesus now in heaven. I will be fine, of course I am sad but I have just dealt with this already. As I got closer to his home where the funeral was, I thought that my chest was going to cave in from the pressure. It hurt so bad. My heart hurt so bad. Even now, I am just hurt. I quickly learned that I had not dealt with it. I was simply in task mode. As I drove up, I was overwhelmed by the hundreds of people that had gathered for his funeral. I was not expecting that at all. The pastor gave a great message on the value of his life and the reality of his faith in Christ. It was a very powerful time as so many people heard the good news of the gift of grace that Jesus offers us all. We sat and listened to the message for about an hour and once again I thought I was okay. Then, they opened the casket for people to walk by and view. All breath left my body. I couldn't believe it. There was my friend Samweli. HE IS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE THERE! How can this be! He was supposed to live. He was supposed to live a normal life. He was supposed to get better. This doesn't make any sense. I felt so overwhelmed. I was sitting next to his aunt who has helped care for him. I just held her and cried. Even know, I can picture him lying in the casket in his best suit wearing this hat that he always had on. He looked peaceful. I know that he no longer has to be in pain, in fear, in despair. I know that life is better now for him. But, I loved him and selfishly, I wanted to him to stay here longer. They buried him behind the group of houses. When we walked up to his grave to lay the wreath there, I just cried. The missionary family that has been taking care of him were absolutely wonderful. I am so thankful that they have allowed me to be a part of Samweli's life with them.
The next day I went over to their house to visit and I found myself about to ask if Samweli was around. I thought I could go visit. I had forgotten that he had died. I am not really sure how to process all of this. I think I am learning about the importance of clinging to Jesus. Thank you all for your prayers.

My friend...

I have shared about my friend, Samuel, before. I had the amazing opportunity of building a friendship with him in the short amount of time that I have been here. He was a fourteen year old boy that had AIDS. He died yesterday afternoon. I am still in shock and I don't feel like I really believe it. I went to his home to visit his aunt and grandmother and I cried as soon as I saw them. But I still find myself struggling to comprehend it and process it. I knew in the back of my mind that he was going to die. He had AIDS. You know it but I thought it would be later. I thought he would still grow up. Are children supposed to die?



The funeral is tomorrow. Please pray that God would use this in the lives of his family and the rest of the community that he lives in. Pray for the American missionary family that has helped to take care of him. Pray that God would be glorified in the midst of this tragedy.

I will write more later but right now I feel numb....

Yo, yo pops, wassup old man?

So those greetings would not be considered culturally appropriate here. As I learn the culture more, I have come to realize how important greetings are here. You ask how they are, their children, family, health, etc. What is the news? Greetings are so important to them that they even do it while driving. During the day, they flash their headlights at each other as a way of greeting one another.

If they are older, you always greet them specifically and say, shikamoo, which means I give you my respect. They respond back with I take your respect. You can see a young business man saying, shikamoo, to a man who is a street cleaner simply because he is older. They value age so much. To them age is a sign of wisdom and experience and that should be honored.

Recently, we had the head of Imara's Mercy department and his family over for dinner. His daughters arrived first. When he walked in, they both said Shikamoo to their father and greeted him formally. I thought oh no! My dad never needs to see this! =) I tackle my dad with a hug and comment on his gray hair and say what's up old man? I told them that and their eyes got very big. So, umm.... dad, if you are reading this, shikamoo. =)

Say what!

Do you ever have those moments where you not only confuse others but even yourself? I hope I am not the only one....

Well, one evening recently, I was sitting around the dinner table with some friends: a tanzanian, and a couple from New Zealand. The wife speaks fluent spanish which made me think about that language. I cannot remember what we were talking about, all I remember is that I said. "una pensar nini ma?" Which is swahili spanish swahili and then, are you ready for this, CHINESE! I totally jumbled everything! I was trying to say, what do you think in swahili? I would say I am confused but that is nimechanganyakiwa! Try saying that five times fast! Yowsers!

The Monkey and the fish

I heard this story recently and thought I would share it.

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away there lived a monkey. This monkey actually lived on an island. One day there was torrential rains that never seemed to end and the island began to flood. The rain and the waters kept coming and coming until one day, the monkey was left with only a little bit of land and one tree. As he was sitting up in his tree, he noticed another animal in the water. It was moving back and forth. The monkey was so worried about the little animal and wanted to rescue it. So, the monkey risked its own life to go out to the end of the branch and snatch the animal out of the water to prevent it from drowning. He put the animal on the ground to dry out under the sun and get warm. The animal flopped around and the monkey thought he looked so happy and was jumping around in excitement. Then, the animal was lying perfectly still and the monkey thought it looked so peaceful. Of course, the animal was a fish.....

So, the moral of the story... I think I can often have good intentions and want to help but sometimes I just make things worse because I do not really understand the people that I am trying to help. Would you please pray that I would listen to God and be patient and not come in with my western ways? Would you pray that I would learn the culture here and understand how to minister effectively? I DO NOT WANT TO KILL THE FISH!