Being present

Jesus seemed to always need to go somewhere to get away from the crowds when he needed some personal time.  People wanted to be around him so much that he had to stand on a boat to give a sermon to the crowd on the shore, some people had to punch a hole in a roof just to get to him, and the crowds around him were so large, a woman thought he'd never notice one person touching his robe in the middle of it all.  People came to hear him speak, to be healed, but most of all, people came to just be near him.  How could you not want to be as close as possible to the embodiment of love, to know that you are loved yourself?

Many of you who read this heard last year the story of Charity, a little girl here who'd been found in the forest, being raised by apes.  She had many anti-social behaviors and refused to spend much time around other people.  This year, Charity looked me in the eye and shook my hand when I greeted her.  She had shoes on her feet, and she wasn't trying to kick them off.  She walks upright and shows more emotion in her face.  I am convinced it is because of other children being the presence of Christ for her, even when she would spit at them or run away.  Today in church, I sat next to Charity and her friend Njeri.  Njeri is a quiet girl in class 5 who has the biggest heart of any girl I know.  For the entire two-hour service, Njeri sat in the same chair as Charity.  She wrapped her arms around Charity and rested her head on Charity's shoulder.  When Charity would reach her hand up to her mouth to chew on her fingers, a nervous habit that has left her fingers quite a mess, Njeri gently pulled her hand down so she couldn't hurt herself.  And halfway through the service, Charity, the girl who would grunt and spit at me last year, reached over and took my hand, and held it for the rest of the service.  I fought back tears, seeing what Njeri's love was bringing out of Charity.  Njeri wasn't doing any expensive occupational therapy exercises or sending Charity to see a child psychologist.  She was just being present with Charity.  She was showing Charity the love that God had shown her.  And it was honor to sit next to this little girl who was so much closer to Christ than me.

Sometimes, I feel so overwhelmed by how much I don't know and don't understand about Kenyan culture, that I become convinced that I can never make a difference here.  I become paralyzed by how great the need is, and how inadequate I am to meet that need.  But God reminds me that I don't need to preach a sermon or heal someone with my touch to make a difference.  I don't need to have all the answers and I don't need to be fluent in Swahili:  I only need to be present.  I have crowd problems here, too.  I'm not teaching my lessons from boats, and no one has punched a hole in any drywall to get to me, but I've been accidentally elbowed, pushed, and squashed by children all vying for a place near me.  And it is because I am present.  Because I am present, my hair has had more knots, tangles, and braids put in it in the last three days than the entire past year.  I constantly hear calls of "Teacher Beth!" from children who want (and know they can receive) my attention, because I am present.  I can't fix every hurt these children have ever had, I can't turn them into brilliant students in 6 weeks, and I can't even converse with all of them in their own language, but I can let them know that they are loved.  I can't tell Kanje that she is one of the most special children in the world to me, but she knows it when I spend hours holding her even though we can't understand each other.  I can't change the fact that Sarah lost her father a few weeks ago, but I can hug her and gush over how wonderful the pictures are that she takes on my camera.  (They really are wonderful pictures.)  I can't tell Charity with words about a Savior who loves her so much that he died for her, but I can hold her hand when she offers it.

I am excited to be teaching English and music to these wonderful, loved children this summer, but mostly I am honored that God is allowing me to be his physical presence to them, even for a short time.

"Dear children, let us not love with words or speech, but with actions and in truth."  -1 John 3:18

Step by step

I love lists.  I love checking things off as I go, and I love how I feel when I throw away a post-it note that's been completely crossed off.  I love step-by-step instructions when troubleshooting electronics and when piecing together Swedish furniture.  Having an end in sight and a sense of completion is comforting for me.

The funny thing is, there's no checklist for following Christ.  Some people try to make checklists (say this prayer, give this much, follow these rules) but that's not how it works.  There's no path lit, beginning to end, to show you what God wants you to do with your life.  On a good day, if you're following closely, he'll light up the next couple of steps for you.  But not much more than that.

I've felt called to Kenya for several years now.  My heart is there.  I count down the days until I go back, and I do my best not to sob for the entire plane ride home when I leave.  But I have no idea what future God is calling me to there.  I'm not sure how God could use my talents to make a difference there in a way that's helpful to the people there, and not just helpful to my ego.  I see many obstacles in my life that keep me from moving in that direction.  I struggled for a long time with this--why would God put this longing in my heart, but not give me a map to fulfill this longing?  I wanted the end game, and I wanted it now.  I hated that, no matter how hard I worked, I wasn't getting to Kenya any faster, and I hated that I couldn't see the entire journey.

But, I can see my next step.

That's where God asks me to have faith.  He's given me a glimpse of his vision for me, and he's lighting up one step at a time to get there.  I don't know how many steps exist on this path, how bumpy, hilly, or perilous the path is.  I just have to trust that God will lead me down it.

I have a quote written among the pictures in one of my collages of Kenya pictures on my wall.  It comes from Mother Teresa's book "No Greater Love," which I read last year in God's perfect timing while I was in Kenya:

"I must not attempt to control God's action; I must not count the stages in the journey He would have me make.  I must not desire a clear perception of my advance upon the road, must not know precisely where I am upon the way of holiness.  I ask Him to make a saint of me, yet I must leave to Him the choice of the saintliness itself and still more the means that lead to it."

I don't know how many steps I am from doing something bigger in Kenya.  But I have faith that God will help me to complete this journey, and I know that God has called me to this next step this summer, back at the Tania Centre, and I am ready to be the best Beth that I can be for them.

Little is much when God's in it

I know that I talk a lot about how God provides, but it blows me away every time.  I never really worry about the money coming in for my mission trips, because God won't call you where he can't afford to send you, but this year was another awe-inspiring year of fundraising.  My church is getting ready to do some renovations, which means a lot of fundraising has been happening in my church over the past several months.  I thought that would mean I'd have to do some shake-downs of my close friends to find the money for this trip.  In the past, after about a month of fundraising, I'd have to start talking to people to let them know how much I still needed, I'd start looking into what else I could be doing to raise funds, and then the last of the money always came in a couple of weeks before I'd have to leave.  Never failed.
This year, I was mentally prepared to do my shake-down once it hit June and I'd still have money to raise.  One week after I sent out my support letters and posted on Facebook that I was starting to raise money, I got a report from the missions team to let me know how much money had come in that first week:  it came to $500 more than I needed!  After just one week!  It was as if God was reminding me that a challenge is just another chance for him to prove his power: "My kindness is all you need.  My power is strongest when you are weak." (2 Corinthians 12:9)  The fact that other fundraising was going on at the same time didn't matter to God; he has the power to get it done.
For the second year in a row, I have had people coming out of the woodwork to ask how they can help and how they can pray.  I am humbled by the way people in my church carry each other through life.  I was astounded last year by the way the children at the Tania Centre care for each other, but I see that same love in my friends here when they do what they can to share God's love with others.  I am so very blessed to have a church family like this in my life, teaching me what it truly means to love others.