Karibu Kenya!

Hello/Habari from Kenya! (If you say “Jambo” instead of “Habari” that marks you as a tourist, in case your pasty white skin didn’t already. Or is that just me that’s so pasty white?) I arrived safe and sound Wednesday night, a little later than expected, but both I and my luggage arrived safely, so I can’t complain. I’m staying in a house on school property at the Tania Centre with the family of the son of a Masaai chief, which is cool, but don’t think I’m living in some Masaai hut like you see on TV. Just a normal Kenyan house!
On Thursday, I was able to take a tour of the school and see all that they are doing with the property. Much of their 7 acres is used for farming. They have quite the variety of crops—maize, beets, tomatoes, cabbage, pumpkins, banana trees, and huge rosemary bushes that they encouraged us to pick a piece to chew on. (This is how I figured out that my host family uses LOTS of rosemary in their tea. I may never want to taste rosemary again by the time I’m done here.) Cows, goats, and sheep wander the school grounds, and they had a handful of pigs in pens. There was some sort of contraption built under the pig pens that, as I understand it, is used to convert their waste into biofuel. How awesome is that?! They also have several tilapia ponds, and are building another.
Building is the word that seems to describe much of the Tania Centre. It seems to be in a constant state of growth, from what I’ve gathered, and I hope, with time, that these projects come to fruition. There is a room under the kitchen that they hope to make into a bakery, a small building along the main road that they hope to make into a store to help with some income for the school, a few unfinished rooms in the school, including a future computer lab. The school administrator told me that they have a donor lined up to donate the computer lab equipment to them as soon as they are able to get the computer lab room up to code with electrical equipment.
The biggest unfinished building that touched me the most was the new dormitory:

How beautiful is that building!? The current dorms are a small tin shack with one room for the boys, and one room for the girls. I got to peek inside, and the current dorms are crowded, dimly lit, and not a place that I would want to spend 9 months of the year like most of these children do, or 12 months like some of the children do.
The new dorms are set up much like a college dormitory—the lower floor is for the girls, the upper floor for the boys, including that wheelchair ramp for students in wheelchairs. Each floor has a room for the dorm mother, as well as many rooms lining each side of the hall. Each room has 1-2 bunk beds inside, and huge windows that allow in so much natural light. At the end of each hall are the bathrooms—toilets on one side of the hall, showers on the other side. Then, just past the bathrooms, is my favorite part—the balcony with the most gorgeous view of the Ngong Hills area. How awesome would it be to wake up to this view every morning!? (I think clicking the picture will make it larger, in case it comes out small on your browser.)

Unfortunately, the Tania Centre has been unable to secure funding yet for mattresses and bedding for the new bunk beds. From what I gathered, that is just about all that stands between the students & their beautiful new dorms. I’m praying that they are able to find the funding soon so the students can take advantage of the blessing that this building is for them!
The area where the Tania Centre is located is called “Kona Baridi,” which means “cold corner,” and whoever named it that wasn’t kidding! By my guess, it’s been in the mid to upper 50’s in the mornings when I go to school, though it warms up to the upper 60’s or lower 70’s by the end of school in the afternoon. I do wish I had packed more sweaters, though. Kona Baridi is situated on a higher hill than Nairobi city, which is what makes it colder than I was expecting. I could even see my breath when I walked to church this morning!  The elevation here gives Denver a run for its money, hence the cold temperatures despite being only 2 degrees south of the equator.
I’ve started teaching some of my classes, but I’ll leave that for another post. Thank you all for your wonderful support and prayers! Asante sana!

Mpaji ni Mungu, Jehovah Jireh, God provides

I am a worrier.  I'm not proud of it, but that's what I am.  I worry about getting places on time, about remembering to pay my bills, about finding time to go to the store, about remembering to get everything I need when I go to the store, about packing everything I need when I travel. I worry about the opinions of others, about my students, and about the unknown.  I worry about failing, and I worry about letting down those that I love.

But, for whatever reason, I never seem to worry about getting funding for my mission trips.  When I was preparing to go on my first international mission trip in 2008 to El Salvador, one of the first things they told us at the interest meeting was not to worry about whether we could afford the trip, but about whether God had called us to the trip.  God would not call us to something then not provide the means for us to follow through.  So I prayed about it, and I really felt God was calling me to that trip, so I didn't worry about the money.  And that made perfect sense to me--why would God ever call me to something, then leave me hanging?  That's not the God I'd come to know and follow.

Now don't get me wrong.  I don't mean I just sat back and expected the money to miraculously appear in the El Salvador team's account (although it could have).  I had to do my part, then I got to watch God do his part.  I wrote letters to friends and family asking for support.  I washed cars in the church parking lot with the rest of the team.  I prayed.  I fasted.  And, sure enough, the money came in.

The story is similar for my two previous trips to Kenya:  prayed, decided I was being called to go on the trip, did what I needed to do, and the money came in.

This year's trip to Kenya is shaping up in a similar fashion, but God is showing up in bigger, more beautiful ways.  By human logic, I should have been worrying about the money coming in this year--I'm staying for twice as long as I've stayed previously, so the trip is much more costly.  People around me seem to expect me to worry about the money.  I'd barely made enough through our fundraising and through sponsors the previous two trips to make it, so who knew where this extra $1000 that I'd never had to raise before would come from?  That might not be a lot of money for some people in my area of the country, but when you live paycheck to paycheck like I do, that's not something you can just pull out of a bank account if someone doesn't sponsor you.

But my God is a God who owns the cattle on a thousand hills, and who can take five loaves of bread and two fish to feed thousands with twelve baskets of leftovers.  And God knows who is able to help send me to Kenya when I can't afford to go on my own.  I lack faith in many areas, but I know God won't call me where he can't afford to send me.  I can't say I'm surprised as the money comes in for this trip, but I am always in awe of God's power.  People who have never sponsored me before are seeking me out to see how they can help.  People I've only met once before, and people I haven't spoken to in about 15 years are joining me in this journey.  Friends who are as strapped financially as I am are sending in what they can, and the little bits are adding up.  We are carrying each other's burdens in a beautiful way.

So I want to take a moment and rejoice with those who have already joined me in this journey--you will be touching lives without even leaving your home, and I can't wait to tell you about them.  And I want to pray that, if you haven't decided to join me financially, that you might consider it.  My previous post lets you know how you can give.  And please continue to pray for me, the rest of my team, and the people we'll be working with this summer as we prepare for all of the work we'll be doing in Kenya and Uganda.

I can't explain to you why I have such peace when I still have so much support to raise.  But I can tell you that God told me I'd have this peace that's beyond understanding, if only I would pray and trust.  I hope that someday I will have this much faith in other areas of my life, too!

Preparing to return

If you're reading this blog, you probably know just how much I love Kenya.  I am thrilled to have the opportunity to spend nearly my entire summer in Kenya this year.  I can't wait to be typing these blogs from Kenya!

For the first month of my stay, I'll be volunteering at the Tania Centre, a school for students with special needs.  It was started by a Kenyan man who attended my church back in the 80's.  We recently reconnected with him, and I am so honored to be able to complete this circle by serving at his school.

Later in the summer, a team from my church will be joining me in Kenya for several purposes.  I'll be on a part of the team that, along with UW Sports Ministry and a team from Nairobi Gospel Centre, will travel to Uganda to train pastors and church leaders in sports ministry.  Another part of our team will remain in Nairobi to train pastors and church leaders in children's discipleship as a follow-up to a previous sports ministry training.

I am equal parts excited and nervous, since this will be my longest stay in Kenya, and I won't be with anyone else from my church for my first month.  Philippians 4 tells us not to worry, but to take everything to God in prayer, so I'm trying to remember to do that first and foremost as I prepare myself for this trip.  Any prayers you'd like to contribute would be greatly appreciated!

I'm also working hard on fund-raising for this trip.  We have several fundraisers in the works at church, but I still have a lot of money to raise on my own.  My first payment of $2000 to pay for my plane ticket is due by May 10th, then I will have an additional $1500-2000 (final costs are still being determined) to raise by June 15th.  If you feel led to donate, you can make a donation via PayPal here (use the yellow "donate" button on the right side of the page).  Mention in the notes section that it's for Beth's Kenya trip.  If you'd like to make it tax-deductible, let me know so I can supply you with the necessary form.  I'd love for you to be a part of God's story in Kenya in this way.

I'll be updating my blog a few more times as I prepare to leave in a couple of months, and I'll update whenever possible while I'm there.  I hope you'll keep coming back to read and see what awesome things God will do in Kenya this summer!

Investing in a child

Sorting through memories of Kenya this week brought up one of my favorite experiences from last year's trip:  It was our first day of sports camp in Nandi, and we found ourselves seated in the first row of a church filled with 600 excited children.  Most of them couldn't get enough of shaking our hands and asking "how are you?" (and giggling when we replied with "fine," the response they're taught in their English lessons).  Many of them had never seen white people before, so we were quite the celebrities.  But I noticed one little girl seated down the row from us, just observing us from her hiding place behind her friend.  She looked to be about 6 or 7 years old (but it's hard to tell since malnutrition stunts children's growth, so she could have been as old as 9 or 10 depending on how much access she had to food).  After the initial rush of children was over, I went over to say hi to her, and she timidly shook my hand.  She didn't speak English (or wasn't comfortable speaking it), so her friend told me her name was Faith.  I didn't want to overwhelm her, so I left her alone the rest of that morning except for the occasional smile I'd throw her way.

The next day, we were all sitting in our front-row seats again (with children scattered throughout our group now), and I looked up to see that Faith had made her way over all by herself to say hi.  I asked if she wanted to sit with me & motioned to the seat next to me, which she cautiously took.  I struggled to get a smile out of her, but she stuck to my side & eventually hopped on my lap, so I called it a success.  When it was time for lunch & all the other children rushed out to where it was being served, Faith still wouldn't leave me & I had to use my very limited Swahili to encourage her to eat.  (Ungapenda kula?--Would you like to eat?)

The next morning, I was up on stage leading the motions for the sports camp music when I looked over & saw Faith climbing up on stage to stand next to me & do the motions.  This little girl who was too scared to come shake my hand 2 days earlier was up on stage leading motions in front of 600 other children.  It was really touching to see that jump in a few short days from a child in the background to a leader, all because I'd gone over to shake her hand.

If just a handshake can do that, I'm encouraged that going to Kenya and investing in the lives of the children there will accomplish amazing things.  I keep praying for Faith, and I hope she's able to touch lives as much as she touched mine.

Forgetfulness

A saying that's never fit me well is "absence makes the heart grow fonder."  I'm sure that fits some people.  But when I'm experiencing an absence of someone/thing, generally I go a little nuts.  Maybe some people interpret that as fondness, but I just interpret it as going insane over something I can't control.  It's not a pleasant feeling at all.
Eventually, I do fall into another cliche:  out of sight, out of mind.  It's not that I care any less about the person or thing that I miss.  It's just that I'm human, and humans forget.  Last July, as I was preparing to go to Kenya with a team from my church, I was forgetting a lot.  I had a lot going on back here in the States, and I wasn't sure I should really be going to Kenya again.  I had people here I wanted to visit, I had the school year coming up to prepare for, and leaving the country (and your comfort zone) is always stressful.  I'd forgotten my experiences the year before, I'd forgotten God's voice calling me back.  But I had committed to the trip, and I knew deep down that it would be a good trip, so I didn't try to back out.
When I got to Kenya and it was no longer "out of sight," I remembered how being there made me feel so much more alive than anything else I'd experienced.  I remembered the joy of working with the children and the church leaders.  I remembered why God had called me to serve there.  I just needed to have my memory jogged.
When I realized that I wouldn't be hopping a plane to Kenya this summer, I worried that I would forget.  It's easy to ignore a calling when it isn't clear yet, when it's to a foreign land, and when it's still so far away.  And I do find myself forgetting:  forgetting to pray about whatever future I may have in Kenya, forgetting to pray for the people I met there, forgetting the resolution I had in knowing I need to go back long-term, forgetting the urgency of preparing myself for whatever comes next.  Distractions aren't hard to find.
So I'm going to make an effort this week to go back and read my journals from my trips to Kenya, to look through my folders of pictures on my hard drive, and, hopefully, dust off the Rosetta Stone for Kiswahili that I'm borrowing from a friend.  I'm hoping to come across stories worth sharing (probably re-sharing for many of you who read this), so check back later in the week once I've jogged my memory!

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens

Today, I got my first letter from Jane.  It let her tell me what some of her favorite things are, including her favorite food:  chapati.

When I saw that, I knew I was meant to be her sponsor!  Hands-down, that is my favorite food in Kenya.

I love this girl already!

Created for a place I've never known

I sometimes have moments where I take a step back from myself and notice that I feel out of place here in America.  I'm not interested in malls or most TV shows or having the nicest car or many other things that our culture tells me I should be interested in.  During these times, I miss Kenya even more, because the people I met there might have had some interest in those things, but it didn't define who they were as people.  The children were more interested in whether you would play a game of football with them than if you had an iPhone.  My friends were more concerned with spending time with friends and family than with lavishing them with unnecessary material gifts.  The community I felt in Kenya was a dramatic contrast to the isolation I often feel in a technologically saturated America.  I could not get enough of just being around the people I met in Kenya.

But having a community of friends and family in America can be great, too.  Living over 5 hours from most of my family means I don't get to spend a lot of time with them, but I was able to this weekend when I went home to be my sister's Maid of Honor for her wedding.  It was my first time being a Maid of Honor, and it was a lot of work, but I love my sister and I loved doing everything I could to make her day as beautiful and stress-free for her as I could.  I would not have wanted to be anywhere else in the world this past weekend than at home with my family, celebrating this new chapter of my sister's life.

It seems that, no matter where I am in the world, I can find friends and family who make it feel like home, or I can feel like my home is on the other side of the world.  It leaves me feeling a bit unsettled, having my heart in so many places and with so many people.  But I think God wants us to feel like that, that we're never quite home.  In Philippians we're told that "our homeland is in heaven."  We can search all over this world, but as followers of Jesus, we won't find our home here.  I can taste a little bit of heaven when I get to shower my sister with love on her special day.  I can smell it when I sit around a table drinking tea and eating mandazi with friends on the other side of the world.  But I think I see it most in the love that just overflows from the children I met in Kenya, and that is why I always ache to be back there.  It's not quite heaven when I get to love and be loved by those beautiful little people, but it's pretty darn close.