We started our second camp this afternoon, set in the gorgeous grounds on Lake Victoria. My Western team has charge of the younger children, P1 through P4, and we found them rather other than what we expected. I think we have gotten so accustomed to the immediate acceptance and thrilled responses (no matter how insignificant the act we had just performed!) from the African children that we forgot to prepare ourselves for Africans who have toured America. All the MFL kids at this camp are former choir children and have been to America, so they act a little more like Western kids (ie: harder to impress and less talkative initially). But, God, they are still dear, sweet children, and I ask that You bless them through us this coming week.
I spoke to a young boy, Hosea, today and discovered that he is from the blue mountains in Rwanda. He actually knows Minani and some of the others from Gisenyi that I met during our very first camp in Rwanda. Oh, how that gladdened my heart! My King, I lay myself down at Your feet, giving You all that I am. I ask, Father God, that You use me. These children have been abundantly blessed by so many people in so many ways already. They have recorded songs and sung before thousands and met famous people and been on TV. But they do not need to be loved any less than the rest. They are still children, dear children who are unsure of their place in life - unsure of who they are and what makes them beautiful - and most without a whole family behind them. Lead me on in Your heart, dearest God.
I think my very favorite part of the day was late this afternoon. We had run through our sessions and were now waiting an open hour to simply hang out with the kids before we packed ourselves into the bus and made our way back to the nunnery. The line from Shakespeare, “Get thee to a nunnery!” comes to mind, but that is beside the point . . . I was wandering a bit aimlessly past a group of young teenage girls sitting on a blanket under a tree when they called me over. “Auntie, tell us a story,” they immediately requested. I thank God that creativity is something my mind never lacks! The first tale I could come up with was “The Princess and the Frog,” so I began, flicking a continuous wave of curious little ants off my pant legs as I did so. I must say, you might have found the story slightly altered from the original version as I couldn’t quite remember exactly the way it was supposed to go. But when I had finished, they must have enjoyed it for they asked me for another one. I promised a second the following day.
You Whose love is better than life, I thank You for this day - for another day to be alive in Your life. I thank You for the moments, Jesus. May I live them all for the glory of Your name. Amen and amen.
The hill where we called our group of P1-P4's to introduce ourselves and start the day.
Barnett (one of our African team leaders) trying out for the part of Willy Wildman. :-)
A wall separating manicured lawn from a steep hill that dived its way down into Lake Victoria. It made an excellent seat.
Our first game with the children. "Hippos and rhinos." Basically the two sides would line up, march towards each other, then run away screaming.
