The next morning I wake up in a bed with a net to protect me from the mosquitoes and geckos. I'm told not to brush my teeth with water to not get sick, careful in the shower, and get ready for breakfast. Breakfast was the only relatively normal thing I experienced. Then it was time to go meet the Masaai people we had come to teach. I climbed back into my van as we traveled about an hour into the valley. On the way we slowed down as cattle and sheep crossed the road; we watched as giraffes, zebra, monkeys and ostrich posed on the side of the road. It didn't seem to phase the natives. Zoos don't exist in Africa. We arrived at Liberty church where pastor Peter and some others welcomed us. Everyday we spent hours of teaching the Bible to the men, women and children. We gathered to worship in song and dance. The people gave with a heart of thanksgiving. It was humbling to receive jewelry as a gift that is usually used to sustain their livlihood and food that is rare for them to receive. They were a people that understood respect and hospitality. They worshipped God with all of their body. But they were sinners that were in need of the Savior as am I.
Their greatest physical need was water. Women would often walk 12 miles one way to get a bucket of water for the day. However, there had been a drought for about a year, so finding water was critical. The chief gathered the people as they discussed the next step and prayed for the water. Our team prayed as we heard stories of illnesses and deaths from the lack of water. BayLeaf was in the process of digging a well, but even that was being put off. Then on Friday we went to evangelize to some of the bomas in the area. Men and women came out of their homes to listen to the Mzungu. They had never met white people that wanted to share Christ. At the end of teaching we had 6 new sisters and 1 new brother in Christ. Then our fearless leader Walter told the team to gather around a baby to pray over her illness. As he began praying, there was an internal struggle I experienced about what to pray. Of course I wanted the baby to be healthy but I prayed for rain. Well, the prayer ended, we went to our van, and ate bread. Suddenly, our translator Emily tells me to look in the distance. I see a grey haze. She says "It's rain!" Our driver pleads with us to enter the van as he dashes off before the rain leaves us stranded in the middle of the valley. It begins pouring down to the point puddles are immediately rising. We make it back to our hotel. I asked Walter what was wrong with the baby? He said, "She needed water". Oh my God, I praise you for your mercy and love. God moved in the face of new believers to confirm their new faith in Him. He provided the rain that we prayed for to affirm our belief outside of coincidence and science. God provided the living water of salvation before he blessed his people with the water of the earth. God is good without the rain!
There are plenty of stories for me to share on this trip. God showed me things that America's entertainment, wealth, and intellectualism clouds. I want what the Maasai have, a clear sense of God's power and goodness. Now that I'm back in the states, I can imagine myself back there. That scares me. I'm not scared of new things or places or losing possessions or not seeing my family, I'm scared of responsibility, accountability, and perseverance. I pray that I have a thirst for God like none other so that wherever I go, it is God I experience and not a thrill. God, I pray you fill me so you may use me.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Kenya (Part 1)
New Things: Went to Kenya, went on a safari, got the name Nosime which means "one you sit with and not be bored", ate different things at the Carnivore (camel, bull's reproductive parts, ostrich, goat, ugali), went to the Masaai market, learned some Maa and Swahili, saw zebras giraffes monkeys donkeys cows sheep ostrich on the way to speak to the Masaai women, I saw a one year drought end.
There is way too much to say about my trip to Kenya. The only thing I can say is God is amazing in every small detail. The preparation, the experience, and the processing of the trip were all under God's sovereignty. I can't tell you everything because I don't think I've been able to fathom what God has done to me yet but I'd like to share the things I know.
Preparation:
I have been at BayLeaf Baptist Church for 4 years now. It is not new that BayLeaf goes on many mission trips a year and even makes it possible, financially and schedule wise, for students to go on trips. My college pastor every year has approached me and asked why I haven't signed up for a trip and challenged the fear of money or ability. Every time my response was I didn't feel called. I knew it would be a good experience, I knew God could provide, I knew I can tell others about Christ, and I knew I needed to do it, but not now. The church goes all over the world but for our ministry Asia and Poland have been the most convenient because they are during school breaks. I've prayed often about trips, careers, places, timing but it had never seemed right. Then last March I was driving to church on a Wednesday night and I knew God was telling me to prepare to say "yes" to wherever God led me. I remember at the age of 13 telling my parents I might one day go to Africa. My mom gets hysterical and my dad tells me to follow God. In college I tell my parents I want to go to seminary because I'd like to work in urban ministry, possibly Chicago with the gangs. My mom gets hysterical (about Chicago) and my dad says follow God. In seminary I tell my parents I want to go to New York or Chicago. Mom begs and pleads dad says follow God. Then March happens... so I get to church and Billy decides to challenge the group to put their "yes" on the table for one of the trips this year. He hands us a list of places the church is going. I look through it and without question my "yes" is for Kenya. Unfortunately, it was the least convenient trip I could have chosen. It was the most expensive trip in the middle of a semester of school, and both my mom's brother and mom's mother's health were fading fast. Some might see that as a sign that I shouldn't go but no one protested my choice, not even mom. It took me a couple of weeks to get my courage up to tell my mom that I signed up to go to Kenya for 2 weeks. She was my biggest supporter. Over the next few months I raised money by an art show. I'm not exactly an artist but I like to paint and I would say I'm decent. But God showed up and I raised more than half the money I needed by selling 8 pieces of art. People gave 2-3Xs more than I asked for and others just wanted to support me. This is called the Church! They were just as much a part of this mission as those that went. Time went on, my professors allowed me to go, prayer infilterated me, and then the day finally came.
The Mission:
I'm with 18 virtual strangers as I step out of the plane onto Niarobi territory. There was an instant recognition that although nothing seemed familiar, I belonged there. A new currency, language, smell, temperature, culture, taste, appreciation overwhelmed me. I'm trying to keep my excitement in as I wait in line for my visa. The first person I talked to in the new place was the woman handing me my visa, and yet not very polite. Great... what have I gotten myself into. I'm rushed down to the luggage. I don't know how to use the carts. My baggage is checked. I'm rushed to the out doors where hundreds of men and women are forced behind a line as they are yelling and screaming into the automatic doors to the airport. A strangers hand grabs my arm and leads me to the parking lot where the rest of my team are hurriedly shoving their luggage into white vans and getting in. The stranger announces his name is Martin and tells me to get in the van. As we drive off into the darkness all I can think is "I need sleep".
There is way too much to say about my trip to Kenya. The only thing I can say is God is amazing in every small detail. The preparation, the experience, and the processing of the trip were all under God's sovereignty. I can't tell you everything because I don't think I've been able to fathom what God has done to me yet but I'd like to share the things I know.
Preparation:
I have been at BayLeaf Baptist Church for 4 years now. It is not new that BayLeaf goes on many mission trips a year and even makes it possible, financially and schedule wise, for students to go on trips. My college pastor every year has approached me and asked why I haven't signed up for a trip and challenged the fear of money or ability. Every time my response was I didn't feel called. I knew it would be a good experience, I knew God could provide, I knew I can tell others about Christ, and I knew I needed to do it, but not now. The church goes all over the world but for our ministry Asia and Poland have been the most convenient because they are during school breaks. I've prayed often about trips, careers, places, timing but it had never seemed right. Then last March I was driving to church on a Wednesday night and I knew God was telling me to prepare to say "yes" to wherever God led me. I remember at the age of 13 telling my parents I might one day go to Africa. My mom gets hysterical and my dad tells me to follow God. In college I tell my parents I want to go to seminary because I'd like to work in urban ministry, possibly Chicago with the gangs. My mom gets hysterical (about Chicago) and my dad says follow God. In seminary I tell my parents I want to go to New York or Chicago. Mom begs and pleads dad says follow God. Then March happens... so I get to church and Billy decides to challenge the group to put their "yes" on the table for one of the trips this year. He hands us a list of places the church is going. I look through it and without question my "yes" is for Kenya. Unfortunately, it was the least convenient trip I could have chosen. It was the most expensive trip in the middle of a semester of school, and both my mom's brother and mom's mother's health were fading fast. Some might see that as a sign that I shouldn't go but no one protested my choice, not even mom. It took me a couple of weeks to get my courage up to tell my mom that I signed up to go to Kenya for 2 weeks. She was my biggest supporter. Over the next few months I raised money by an art show. I'm not exactly an artist but I like to paint and I would say I'm decent. But God showed up and I raised more than half the money I needed by selling 8 pieces of art. People gave 2-3Xs more than I asked for and others just wanted to support me. This is called the Church! They were just as much a part of this mission as those that went. Time went on, my professors allowed me to go, prayer infilterated me, and then the day finally came.
The Mission:
I'm with 18 virtual strangers as I step out of the plane onto Niarobi territory. There was an instant recognition that although nothing seemed familiar, I belonged there. A new currency, language, smell, temperature, culture, taste, appreciation overwhelmed me. I'm trying to keep my excitement in as I wait in line for my visa. The first person I talked to in the new place was the woman handing me my visa, and yet not very polite. Great... what have I gotten myself into. I'm rushed down to the luggage. I don't know how to use the carts. My baggage is checked. I'm rushed to the out doors where hundreds of men and women are forced behind a line as they are yelling and screaming into the automatic doors to the airport. A strangers hand grabs my arm and leads me to the parking lot where the rest of my team are hurriedly shoving their luggage into white vans and getting in. The stranger announces his name is Martin and tells me to get in the van. As we drive off into the darkness all I can think is "I need sleep".
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