We’ve spent 8 weeks total in Kenya, and that’s the longest we’ve been anywhere on the Race yet. As I previously mentioned, we weren’t able to go to Uganda due to the Ebola outbreak. I still believe God wants me to go there, though, as I have a lot of different ministries and people I could partner with, so we’ll see what plans and schemes He writes up to enable me to do that. It’s true—He writes better stories than any of us could write for ourselves.
Our time in Kenya has been one marked with the seal of family and fellowship. Our ministry hosts in Bukembe became just that—family, and their house became a home of great fellowship. It hasn’t been this difficult for me to pack up and leave a place since we were in Ukraine, which also felt very much like home. As our big bus drove away, baby Neil {who has been featured in so many of my photos} cried and screamed, trying to chase us. My heart broke. Maybe literally, I don’t know, but it made me realize all the ways I open my heart to people, without even knowing it most of the time. Walking away is often the most difficult thing we’ll have to do in this life.
I am notorious for giving away parts of my heart subconsciously, and especially through ministry. I’ve learned over time how to protect and preserve what is mine, and to give away what God has given me to give—the gift of true Love…Christ Jesus Himself. I truly believe that is what will mark the rest of my Race, and my journey thereafter.
In God’s word, it says that HE is love {1 John 4}. He is the essence and epitome of all that love is. And because He lives in us and we are made in His image, we bear that same love. We have the authority to give it out generously and always. I see evidence of that Love all around me all the time, especially in the way Neil laughed and played. I see it in his ability to run around naked, without a care in the world, to play in the rocks and stare at the sky; I see it in the way he would fall asleep within a moment of being rocked in someone’s arms. He lived fully alive, dependent and yet wholly invested in the emotion it takes to be human. Observing him reminded me of the other scripture that talks about the faith of a child {Luke 18:17}. Jesus is speaking to His disciples, sharing a parable, and He says that only those with faith like a child will truly see Him in all of His glory, and inherit the Kingdom of God.
I watch as people on my squad struggle with that very simple concept. I know I still do sometimes. We strive to please and we strive to see things, believe things, understand things. We think we can figure God out, in all of His vast complexities, but hard as we try, we cannot and will not..fully. Even in Heaven, we may not, but that is why we can pray things to be on earth as they are in Heaven…we can live fully alive and present without a care {to an extent}.
This is why I know I needed to be in Kenya for a second month, even though having only 10 months on my Race sounded like a bit of a drag at first. I was all like “What?! Aren’t I entitled to my 11 months? 11 countries in 11 months?” But no. God said no. We needed to remain here because God still had more to teach me. As I lay in bed with Malaria and Typhoid and Amoebas for the better part of 7 weeks, unable to do much ministry, He humbled me and taught me how to stop thinking. He taught me how to just be. The angel I met in that bathroom taught me the same thing. Much like children, we already know which way to go, without actually knowing. We just go. We must be willing to take the leap, be a bit wild and reckless and carefree, all while knowing that God has our best interests at heart.
It’s hard to learn how to be a child all over again once you’ve actually become an adult. I suppose there’s always a learning curve that God provides as a cushion for us. As I look back over the last 8 months, with only 3 in front of me to go, I realize I truly learned how to tap back into that type of faith. This happened the most when we rode on the backs of motorbikes. As I looked out over the lush green fields, mountains, and trees, I’d raise my arms in the air, as if on a rollercoaster, close my eyes, and yell out at the top of my lungs. It was liberating to say the least, wild and free, the stuff of kids.
As me and my little yellow back-pack cross borders and time zones and frolic back and forth across the Equator, I know without a shadow of a doubt that Kenya didn’t necessarily need me to stick around any longer, but my soul did. The leaving isn’t as foreign as it used to be, and I’m no longer as proud to rest and bare my weaknesses to others. I’m open to it, at least, to crying in front of others and purging the things I carry that I don’t actually need. I think I’m finally learning to abide in the Savior and His love for me. I’m learning to let go, and I realized that yesterday as we drove away. It was profound. I’m learning to be like a child again, and I’m going to take this new found freedom with me to Thailand, to take His love to the children there who have had to grow up and become adults faster than any of us can imagine.
Debrief or BUST!! This is the life. Stay tuned.
