It's a rather nice title, don't you think? I certainly thought so. Like something you might find in the sci-fi section at Goodwill. (Does Goodwill even have a Sci-fi section?)
I am writing you from Kenya.
Remember the Mormon Tabernacle Choir? They're doing it again. The angels are singing.
It's gorgeous here. Stunning, breathtaking, drop-dead gorgeous. And I'm not even talking about a horse this time. We're visiting a team situated on the side of a mountain overlooking the Rift Valley. Yeah, like The Rift Valley. Who knew?
It's pretty incredible when God decides to actually give you a visible picture of how much He loves you. I spent two hours staring at it yesterday. I'll show you a photo as soon as I get back in the States. In the meantime: Picture a panoramic, blue-mountains-in-the-distance, African trees spreading across the plains, birds-hollering-in-the-background scene. You'll be close.
God is good. He is proving again His utter faithfulness in taking care of me when I jump off a cliff without being able to see how far the drop is. I made it to the airport after the most comfortable cross-Atlantic flight I've ever taken. Marble chocolate cheesecake. Need I say more?
Clint Bokelman, Jeff Hylton, and Bill Bush (all from AIM) met me at the airport along with the two Matt's (Patch and Rupple). I stepped out of the terminal and smelled Africa . . . And this from someone who hardly ever notices smells! It was a beautiful thing.
We spent that night in a hostel with giraffes painted on the living room wall. I felt right at home. And the next morning it was off on an adventure out of the haze and concrete of Nairobi and into Kenya's breathtaking countryside. We drove to Kijabi (an hour or two away) and met the rest of the team - Courtney, Kellie, and Christianna. I'm staying with the girls in their apartment/house. We have running water (even hot!), electricity, and Internet connection. Sometimes. :-)
That all happened Tuesday. Since then - Is today Friday? - we've been down to the IDP camp twice, braved roads that I'd hesitate to ride my horse down, ridden on a motorcycle (Do you hear the angels singing again? :-)), fought off some nasty monkeys, and played a very good game of Wiffle Ball. Overall, we've been quite productive. :-)
But we're not too worried about productivity. We're learning about relationships. The relationship, daily and walking, that God desires with us. The stuff that's so much more important than the house-building, the school fees, the plans. We've been talking about it a lot. It's been inspiring to watch this team here grow and listen and pray and worship and learn together. It's been encouraging to grow and listen and pray and worship and learn with them.
God is good.
Oh, and today He also got me a driver in Uganda. This morning, I didn't have a way to get from Kampala to Gulu and Lira (where the former child soldier ministries are). Tonight, I have a way. God opened the door. Wide and glowing again. Through a pastor named Onesimous who got on his phone, called a man named Dale, and said, "There's an American girl flying into Kampala on Monday, and she needs you to drive her to Lira to Pastor Johnson. When she tells you her budget, that really is all the money she has, and you'll just have to make it work." And just like that, distance and money were no longer an issue.
Here is the Body of Christ at work in Africa. This is one of the ways God can blow open a closed door. I am so thankful.
P.S. Oh, yeah, back to the title: Did I say something about Nairobi Eyes? Nasty little ant
look-alikes. (I think if you want to be scientific about it, you have to
call it a beetle.) They don't bite, they don't usually fly, and they're
not really that awful alive. But when they die, if they're squashed
(for example, if one was crawling on your face), they explode in a mass
of skin-eating acidic . . . stuff. Nice, huh? We were a little nervous
when we saw our first on. Imagine our horror when we walked into Clint
and Jeff's house last night, and the floor was literally crawling with
them. It might have been worse than Indian Jones. Well, after jumping
on the chairs and wrapping our feet in plastic wrap (not all of us did
that...), we calmed down, found some Bleach and a mop, and proceeded to .
. . well, I think they call it a massacre when it's not insects.
Welcome to Africa.
