Ever die of hunger? June 9, 2011

Have you ever known a person, whom you deeply love, die of hunger?

Ever held the hand of a friend, looked at their withering body, and realized you have nothing to give them to restore their                     body to health?

Have you ever had 2 siblings die of starvation?

I haven’t.

But my friend Rosylnn has.

Not once, but 3 times.

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Her words were read to us at a workshop in Uganda:

“I’ve had a good friend die in my arms due to hunger”.

Silence. Dead Silence.

I blinked once, twice, trying to register those words. I looked around the room, searching peoples faces, trying to understand…trying to make sense of those words…

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Since our Uganda trip we’ve spent time getting to know each other. She works for an organization that brings her into the slums. She raises money so that kids can be fed when their caretakers have nothing to offer but dirty water. When funds are low she goes to people/friends/family/anybody in order to get enough money to feed these children. She fights for them, so that she wouldn’t need to see one more hungry loved one dying.

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$150 dollars a month feeds about 200 children!  TWO. HUNDRED. CHILDREN!

Thats chum change. Thats a monthly cell phone bill or cable bill, thats dinner for 5, that’s a pretty new dress, that’s that lamp or extra car accessory that I didn’t need but wanted….

Thats money that many people have….including myself…

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Why are people still dying of hunger when the resources are not so far away? 

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For Rosslyn both physical and spiritual hunger need to be addressed.

I agree.

For what good is earthly life if the spiritual life leads to eternal death?

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I might be only one person and not the Savior of this world, but I am the Saviors child and He calls His own to feed the hungry…whichever kind of hunger that is.

If you can & want to help please contact me. Lets use our God-given blessings for good.

Kenyan funnies June 7, 2011

I recently ran across the most entertaining news clipping. Every Saturday The Nation has a section called “Soulmates” and we get the privilege of reading it! I couldn’t help myself, these just cracked me up. I’ve decided you shouldn’t be deprived of my sick humor. Here are a few of my favorites…

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“I’m a middle-aged lady, exquisite, gifted, ambitious. Looking for a well-groomed, cultured, romantic, and one disposed to an affair. Are you the one?” Contact: attached_till_death@gmail.com

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Diya, 40, short, dark and plump. Looking for someone taller than 5’5, non-smoker, humorous, should be working, and seriously wants to have a child immediately. HIV test a must!

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I’m a born again Christian, 39, with two children. You must be a Christian. No tribalists please, just be simply Kenyan. No time-wasters please.

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I’m a refined 43-yr-old, humble, kind, focused, sociable, intelligent, and courteous woman. Jokers keep off. 

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I’m an esteemed, distinguished, healthy, well-bred, intelligent, morally-sane & socially upright man. Looking for a homemaker and marriage-minded lady. She should be faithful, responsible, and caring. Touched?

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Mogesa, 35 yrs, 5’8, humble and open-minded. Would like to meet a white woman from any part of the world, aged 35 and below. She should be straight, loyal, and a family woman for an everlasting relationship. 

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Any takers??

FEAR. DREAD. SAFETY. May 22, 2011

Its been a rough week. Rough in the “my-life-is-on-the-line” kind of a way. I’ve never lived in a place where my sense of safety has been threatened…until I moved here.

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A few months ago I said goodbye to people that I started this Kenya journey with. They were like family to me and so much a part of my daily life. When they left my insecurities towards safety were heightened. I felt alone & vulnerable. Then a co-worker and her husband were mugged and beaten, then 5 masked men decided to enter my good friends house and rob her family of everything valuable while at the same time carrying a gun & axe around for intimidation. It also doesn’t help that in counseling missionaries I hear such stories on a continuous basis. And then a few days later I myself experienced an incident I could’ve done without.

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A few days after my friends house got robbed I headed to Uganda for a workshop. I was already anxious b/c there were political riots happening in the city I was heading towards. I decided to take the bus rather then flying in order to cut costs. I also decided the night bus would be more time efficient. At about 1am the guy I went with noticed that something was wrong. Instead of being on a smooth road we were on a bumpy dirt road. A diversion had been created to get the bus to slow down. At around 1:30 I was half asleep until I noticed that our bus stopped, people’s voices were raised, and then all of a sudden our bus jerked forward at full speed nearly plunging us into a ditch. We sped on for 10-15min only to hear that were attacked by thugs who were pretending to be police officers. Our driver noticed something was off when he saw beaten people laying on the dirt road. Before he could drive off the thugs attempted to stop our bus by hitting our driver with a blunt object over the head. In a heroic way he drove away and saved our lives. When he did stop the bus I was horrified. He was covered in blood. I can’t get that image out of my head, nor that of the bodies laying on the floor (even though I hadn’t seen them). Immediately someone else took over b/c we didn’t know if we were being followed. A few miles ahead of us was another police check and at this point everyone was alert and anxious. Should we keep driving and risk being shot at or stop and take our chances? Our driver stopped and thankfully they were legit. One officer came with us and brought us to the nearest hospital since our driver was in serious need of medical attention.

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I don’t know how to tell this story without remembering how absolutely terrified I was. I was shaking uncontrollably and couldn’t get my thoughts together to even pray. All I could do was beg God for continuous protection and ask people to intercede in prayer. 

We arrived at the hospital and waited 2 hrs. Our driver thankfully was stitched up and medicated, but didn’t continue on the journey with us. There we met a truck driver who had just been attacked by the same thugs but managed to get away. We were given an unexperienced driver until we arrived at the next town. His driving made everyone tense. He could barely drive this 80+ passenger bus much less get us out of a dangerous situation if one were to occur. We did make it only to find out that there was no available driver there. We would need to wait 4 hours for one to arrive. I was okay with that b/c that meant he wouldn’t arrive till 7am…meaning daylight.

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It was about 3:30am and we were in a town that wasn’t sleeping. Prostitues roamed about, bars were open, loud music was playing…I didn’t feel much safer there either. I saw a man kick a man out of a building and use a whip to hit him. I saw another man slap a guy. My imagination also saw a lot of “What Ifs”. What if those thugs had gotten unto our bus? The horror stories are endless. I was the only white girl on the bus…stories always get worse when a white person is in the picture. What if they’d beaten us? Raped me? What happend to those other people? I have an overactive imagination to begin with and at that point there was no turning it off.

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I got back on the bus and just sat there in the darkness and cried. Cried for myself, for those people left behind, for the ugliness of evil that lurks in this world…i had no words but plenty of tears.

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I look back now and wonder how Christ deals with all that He sees. I imagine that…If rain could be just a measure of his tears for us, then perhaps I could grasp a glimpse of His heartache towards us. If lightening could be his rod for justice, then I can hold on to the hope that in due time all will be made well. And if thunder was just an echo of his voice, then I can trust that His words will trump evil.

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My faith has been challenged. Its easy to “say” that you would suffer & die for Christ when you spend most of your life living in a “safe” place, but not until you are faced with it will you truly know what will come out. In that moment I was paralyzed with fear. I wish my response would’ve been more “God honoring”, but though guilt could easily consume me I know that He is shaping something new in me b/c of these experiences.

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I’ve come to a place where my only prayer is….“Lord, help me finish well”. Whatever that may look like.

Missionaries don’t need vacations… April 21, 2011

The Taj-mahal

Well, thats a lie!!!

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I wish sponsors of missionaries would understand the difficulties missionaries endure on the field. I wish they could step into their lives, families, ministry settings, the intzi bintzi’s of their hearts and see.

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I’ve had this conversation over and over again. Conversations ridden with guilt. Guilt of: “what will my sponsors think if I take a vacation while on the mission field”. Guilt about using money sponsers have given them to take a break.

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Dear Sponsers, let me share how it works. We raise money to be on the field. Out of that money we receive a monthly stippen (like a salary). How we use that money is left up to us. There are bills to be paid (housing, utilities, transport), food to be bought, tithes & gifts to be given, and then there’s a little bit extra for cushioning (for those “just-in-case” moments). When missionaries go on vacation its b/c they’ve saved up that small portion of a cushion to actually take a vacation. If anything, they are good stewards of the $ given to them.

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So sponsors…support your missionaries. Let them get a break from their rewarding yet difficult jobs. They deserve it. Trust me. When they don’t they end up in my office, burned out, exhausted, and handicapped from the work Christ has called them too.

Lets remember they are human. They need a break just like all the rest of us.

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And on that note…I’m off to India!

(Don’t worry sponsors this $ is coming out of my savings, not from peoples donations)

WANTED: Single male missionaries April 11, 2011

Uhm, hello godly-SINGLE-missionary-men, where art thou??

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Before you get confused: I AM NOT looking. I’m quite happy with the heart-throb God has placed in my life. But in the past 8 months I’ve noticed that there are A LOT of single female missionaries (whom I will call SFM’s) on the field.

And before you make assumptions…no, they are not frumpy-unattractive-awkward woman. Actually quite the opposite. I’m not writing this blog to “sell” my friends, but to raise awareness of the lacking male species around here.

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So men, if you feel God calling you to the mission field…GO! Stop sitting around, wondering and trying to make sense of it all. Pack your bags and join the adventure of faith God has called you on. GO! Stop worrying about finding a wife first….there are plenty on the other side!

Have I made myself clear? Don’t make me start a missionary version of E-Harmony!

Phew….this is exhausting.

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But seriously, WHY are there so many SFM’s and only a handful of men willing to be surrendered to God in a foreign land?

 

Rules, what rules? April 8, 2011

Imagine living in a place where there are NO stop or yield signs, traffic lights are not used, the police does not lurk around to give you a traffic ticket, there’s no such thing as a speed limit, & anything and everything goes while you’re driving on the road….

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Imagine? I live this out daily!! Kenya is the grand place of no rules. You can’t get traffic violations b/c there’s nothing to violate! In a sick way, at least that’s how Kenyan’s have described my joy of driving on their suicide roads, I loooove driving in Kenya!

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If you have issues with authority and following rules, Kenya’s your place! Relocate asap!

Here the goal is to reach your destination, and you can do so in any way and fashion your little heart desires. Besides the excitement of driving on the left side of the road while steering on the right side… the dirt roads, major pot holes, guys pushing heavy carts on the road, buses cutting you off, and people freely walking through moving traffic (just minor obstacles in your daily drive), the rush is absolutely adrenaline inducing!

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Its gonna be real hard for me to adjust to the American driving system again. Real hard.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO me & Dad March 20, 2011

So my parents are in Kenya!!!

They came out for my dad’s 60th bday, which is also a day before my birthday!  So we get to celebrate together!

Happy Birthday to US!!!!  

Yes, its true…i hide. February 28, 2011

I go to a mega-church and I’m not sure why b/c I’m actually not a fan of big churches.

I like the intimacy of small churches, but thats perhaps why I go to a big church here,  I want to hide.

At times it feels like I’m being pulled in a million directions. There’s always something to do, someone to hangout with, a place to volunteer at, etc. Small churches ask a lot of you, especially when they realize what your gifts and occupation are. So though my approach isn’t healthy on this side of the world I don’t feel guilty b/c I have plenty of fellowship throughout the week. I have people who know me, who challenge/encourage/kick-me-in-the-butt/speak truth, and love me.

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In the past I would rarely cut my people-time for alone-time, but I’ve noticed in the past 7 months that as a counselor I need time away from people as well. I see people all day, hear their problems and joys, and sometimes when I’m hanging out with people it feels like I’m still at work. I don’t mind being there for my friends, but I need a break to rest and just-be as well.

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I don’t feel like people always understand b/c their jobs may not engage them on an emotional level 24/7. So when they do finally spend time with friends they draw-in emotionally; however, my job constantly forces me to be engaged emotionally, psychologically, and spiritually. After several hours of that per day, you can only handle so much. I’ve come to a conclusion over my time here, I will likely never work full-time in this profession b/c if I do it will destroy me. Also I’ve come to recognize that I’m not God (sad, but true). Turns out I’m just another messed up struggling human being. Sigh.

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On a cool note there are perks in going to a mega-church: I’ve seen the Vice President of Kenya and Miss Kenya for the Miss Universe competition, who is super tall and still wears 4 inch heals. She’s at least s 6’7! Kinda a giant.

Privacy, a thing of the past February 22, 2011

I’ve lost a good chunk of privacy living here…

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Let me give you a glimpse of what my housing situation looks like. I live in a duplex. I can enter into my neighbors house through my kitchen; that is if my neighbor and I unlock the kitchen door on both sides. I have a small patio behind my house, but the compound guard is 6 feet from my door. I barely sit out there b/c its kinda awkward. I still have a hard time fully grasping how male-female relationships are to be handled here, so I avoid too much interaction with my guard. To continue…I have a massive window facing the patio and the guards hut. Right by my window there’s a plug which the guards use to charge their cell phone. B/c it gets so hot here I need to leave my windows open for fresh air, but that also means that I can hear every convo the guard has, they can hear everything I say, and why deprive my next door neighbor of my juicy life when they can hear all that I’ve got to say as well.

So much for privacy.

So though everyone can hear me & I can hear them, I leave my curtains down so that at least the guards can’t peek into my place at all times.

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Today it was pouring outside. A nice breeze was causing my curtains to flap so I decided to pull my curtain aside for at least a wee bit. The cool wind coming in felt great, but lo and behold not even 5 min. later my guard puts his face to my window and greets me. Again, so much for privacy. He stands there for several minutes talking up a storm and then he proceeds by sitting outside my window and just chatting away. Don’t get me wrong, I really like this guard. He’s a sweetheart and has the biggest smile, which he always wears, but I ain’t liking it when I’m constantly watched as I sit in the living room doing whatever it is I wanna do.

(Humph* – stop your whinin’ Becks!)

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Speaking of my guard, he just charged his phone outside my window. Oh and there goes a convo I’m gonna be forced to eaves drop on.

Goodbye privacy, it was nice knowing you.

Really guys, is that necessary?!? February 16, 2011

My hope for Kenya

I see it every day, multiple times per day, and often times more then my little eyes should.

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There’s this common standard around here that its okay for men to pee openly for all the world to see.

They’ll stop their cars just to do so, while their strolling about, or heck even while they’re working. When nature calls you are free to pick any patch of land and soil it.

And here’s where I’ve got issues: I NEVER see them washing their hands or at least using hand sanitizer once their done!! EW!

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Moment of truth: I rarely will shake a Kenyan man’s hand. I wont even buy fruits and veggies from them b/c the idea just GROSSES ME OUT!

Problem is: my compound guards are men and they always wanna shake my hand, so out of respect I do; however, as soon as I step into my house I scorch my hands clean. Again, ITS NASTY dudes.

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And on another note, why just the men? Why are the woman banned from fertilizing the land?

Maybe I should set a new standard…