Not sure this is the right Swahili, but I like the hash-tag
Lauren on our Chogoria team uses, #thisislife.
It seems to express the normal day to day that can be taken for granted. It can appear from a blog or a facebook
account that one is habitually traversing ancient cathedrals or scenic
mountaintops, when most days tend towards the mundane faithfulness of plugging
along.
So, haya ni maisha
yetu siku hizi (this is our life
these days), since we returned from our Area Director meetings and found
ourselves facing the next stretch. Now
there are no major trips or events standing between us and what we returned to
Kenya to do, but we’re still in the in-between of transition.
Swahili
Being away for ten days was brutal, even though we did
listen to our recordings for a half hour each evening after our meetings were
over. I found that entering Greece in
Swahili-learning mode made me attuned to the Greek alphabet, to deciphering
signs, to listening to and repeating greetings.
But that tapered over the week and by the time we came back to Kenya
language learning required a significant effort to plunge back into. Never the less, faithful Gideon has borne
with us, and we are back to listening, conversing, discussing, reading. Karen had the brilliant idea of using a photo
collection of Labor and Delivery pictures from Uganda to increase our hospital
vocabulary (see photo above of us trying). And
this being the “Global Participator Approach” method, we’ve also spent some
hours this week just absorbing some “haya ni maisha” stories, which remind us
that this is about real people, with courage and love and a lot to teach those of us who
have had easier lives. For instance, a
person who started excelling in later primary school because the first two
years he was in school there was drought, so he never got any food before class
and went to bed hungry each night . . . but in third grade the rains resumed so
he could eat and by 4th grade he was first in his class of 70+
students (one teacher). Or the fact that
teachers would have all the students without shoes lie on the dirt floor of the
classroom and cane their legs to motivate them to beg their parents for shoes,
which one just accepted as normal life because one knew one’s parents could
never afford shoes. Or the fact that our
teacher’s formal education ended in 9th grade when he fell asleep on
the long bus ride with his school fees in his pocket, and awoke to find the
money which his father had slaved to collect, gone. There was no replacing it. The way that a rain pattern, a theft, a
broken bone, a hospital bill can irrevocably alter a life is eye opening. And the reminder that we’re working at this
language because we want to relate to real people keeps us going.
Housing
Evidently there is a crisis/change of law or something
regarding Kenyan banking that is affecting our landlord’s ability to finish the
house we had hoped to live in by the end of this month. While I am still holding out hope for a possible
miracle, we will be homeless in less than two weeks. So next week we need to come up with some
plan B’s. After three months in a nice,
but not OURS, house we were ready to settle, but it looks like God is
stretching us again. We’re praying for a
place to rent short-term that would still be accessible to begin working in the
hospital, and perhaps even be a boon for Swahili learning?
Work
Even though we’re not yet resuming our medical jobs, we’re
still working hours each day after Swahili class to support our teams across
East Africa. This week my Bible reading included
this paragraph in Acts 20 where Paul is taking leave of the leaders in Ephesus
(Turkey!):
Therefore
take heed to yourselves and to all the flock, among which the Holy
Spirit has made you overseers, to shepherd the church of God which He
purchased with His own blood. For I know
this, that after my departure savage
wolves will come in among you, not sparing the flock. Also from among yourselves men will rise up,
speaking perverse things, to draw away the disciples after themselves. . . . So now, brethren, I commend you to God
and to the word of His grace, which is able to build you up and give you an
inheritance among all those who are sanctified.
This passage leapt out to me the way that certain verses
sometimes do. We had just tried to study
Psalm 23 in Swahili, so the shepherding is in the context of the reality that
God is our Shepherd, we aren’t ultimately alone in this work of overseeing. And the savage wolves hearken to two stories
told this summer about Bundibugyo (where there are no animal wolves), a child’s
dream and a praying healer’s vision, of evil in the form of a wolf. Evil has tried to bite into us in several
places in the last week, children’s health, mental health, dissension. Scary stuff.
But the passage reminds us that those we serve have been purchased by
Jesus’ own blood, that God’s grace assures us of ultimately a table of fellowship
even if it is set in the shades of a deathly walk.
Team
While we are in Kijabe we continue to enjoy the friendship
of this team, weekly morning prayer meetings together, weekly dinners and
prayer times afterwards, informal opportunities for walks and talks. This team labors in significant spots for the
Kingdom. Long hospital hours. Setting policy. Raising funds. Counseling war-affected students. Intervening for safety when kids start to
fall apart. Initiating and managing
language programs. Teaching English and
statistics. Watching out for each other. It is a privilege to participate for this
season. Friday I was asked to cover a
Public Health elective class for Seniors at RVA taught normally by our former
Serge team mate Jennifer Chedester. In
spite of some computer glitches (!) I thoroughly enjoyed teaching the next
generation of missionary/ngo workers about child survival.
Kids
And our own four kids are never far from our thoughts. We rejoice in the occasional facetime chats,
the photos we get, the text chains. And
in the context of savage wolves and perverse men, we thank God for the
remarkable way all are thriving. Life is
not easy for them scattered to independence, and we long to be more present,
but in the meantime we are grateful for ongoing prayers. For the first, for wisdom, compassion, and
perseverance in a challenging 3rd year of medical school where he is
shining (and sweating, the boy works HARD).
For the second, weekly mercies as Infantry Basic Officer Leadership
Course continues in days of trekking, orienteering, target practice, tactical
lessons. So far so good, but success
always feels tenuous in that environment.
For the third, friendship and learning opportunities and reading speed
and safety as she studies abroad, right now in India. For the fourth, balance and wisdom and
spiritual growth again as he plays on the rugby team, takes difficult
engineering classes, and commits to quite a few activities. They are all gems and we miss them terribly.
Souls
I keep drifting back to Psalm 119:32—
I will run the course of Your commandments,
For You shall enlarge my heart.
Missing kids, being homeless, struggling with language, and
battling wolves . . all that can tend to make me want to shrink down into
survival mode and pull in my heart to a firmly shielded state. Pray that instead our hearts would keep
growing. Reaching a solidly middle-age
verging-on-old phase of life does not preclude an expanding heart, a deepening
of love, a growing in grace. Praying we
don’t become stodgy or bitter or defensive (I can see all three in myself) but
rather we are transformed more and more to be like Jesus, courageous and
risk-taking and meek as we run this course. (Or bike it, above).
There you have it, maisha in all it’s daily-ness.
1 comment:
This was on our public broadcasting station last night and I made my 13 year old daughter watch it with me. It made me think of you guys. http://www.pbs.org/video/2365839715/
It's called Time for School and follows several kids from at risk areas as they go through school...following them for 13 years.
Will be praying for your housing.
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