I say goodbye a lot these days. We move from country to country, contact to contact, every month. We make friends with our contacts, translators and many more in each country. Every month new faces, every month new goodbyes. With every deep relationship, each contact you fell in love with, you get asked one question above all else, “Will you come back? Will I see you again?” Our answers usually consist of, “I would like to!” or “I hope so!” I’ve heard a few Racers say with certainty that they will be back to a certain location or contact. I’m too much of a realist to say such things for certain, but I do hope.
The same thing happened three and half years ago. I lived in Kijabe, Kenya for three months with AIM in the fall of 2009. Three months is definitely enough to fall in love with a place, it’s ministry and most of all, it’s people. I remember leaving Kijabe in 2009. There is a long hill that you drive up to reach the main highway. I remember very specifically telling God, “I don’t know if I’ll ever come back here, but I would really like to.” I had tears in my eyes then, and I had tears in my eyes again as I drove back down that hill four days ago. God had worked it out for me to come back, and this time was going to be even more special. To return to a place and it’s people, that you left without knowing if you were ever going to see again, is something quite special. Racers from F squad had the opportunity to invite their parents onto the field to do ministry for a week with their kids, 12 Racer’s parents were able to make it. It “turns out” (Ie. Jesus loves me), that the parents and their Racers were going to be doing ministry in Kijabe, which meant I got to tag along and spend time with my old contacts, Simon and Margaret. Margaret is the best African Mama you could ask for, and I’ve had a few. Her food is delicious, she has lived in the US for 7 years so she understands our culture and she is full of joy and love. She spoils me rotten. Simon invited me to come teach dance if I could, more on that to come. The rest of my time was going to be spent hanging out with people and doing ministry that I loved.
On the third day in Kijabe, I decided to go do ministry with the parents and their Racers in the Rift valley, doing door-to-door evangelism in the same area that my previous team had. I got so excited when I heard that the two main translators from last time, Peter and Samuel, were going to be there. I was totally shocked when right after morning prayer and worship in Kijabe, I heard my name. Samuel was sitting a few feet away from me and the reunion was so fun! We made it down to the valley and parked at a familiar rock quarry about an hour away from Kijabe and met Peter. Ministry was great, we ministered to some Maasai and some of the workers in the quarry, same area that I was in before.
On the way back to Kijabe, I mentioned to Samuel that I was bummed because I heard the team that went out the day before got to meet with his Grandfather, and I wished I could have too. You see, Samuels Grandfather has a special place in my heart from the last trip. He is an older man, I guess 80’s, who shoots and carves his own bow and arrows. Last time I met him, I walked up when he was hand carving one of these arrows. On the walk up to the house, Samuel had whispered to me to make sure and preach the gospel, because his grandfather was not saved. When I saw him making the arrow, I asked if I could shoot. He thought it was just great that this little white girl from America wanted to shoot his bow, so he gladly agreed. After a little while of shooting and a lot of laughs, we sat and started talking. Myself and one of the local pastors talked to him for a long time about his faith and what he believed to be truth. In the end, he accepted Jesus Christ as his personal savior. It was one of my most favorite moments from that trip, and still stands out in my mind as a true God moment. I bought an arrow from Grandfather that day, it hangs on my wall back home as a reminder of God’s goodness.
Samuel and Grandfather in 2009
and in 2013!
I walked up to the same little mud home yesterday, and out came Grandfather. His eyes widened immediately when he saw me, he recognized me instantly. He didn’t have much to say, except for what a surprise it was to see me and “Wow!”, but we were both all smiles and laughs. He asked me if I still had his arrow, I told him it hung on my wall back home. Then he teased me for not bringing him something to hang on his wall to remember me by, I promised that next time I would. He left me for a moment and went inside. When he came back out, I almost cried. He had an arrow in his hands, this time it was a gift. We embraced and took pictures, he thanked God for meeting me again and I prayed a blessing over his home and family. It was a true gift from God.
The joy from being remembered, from going back, seeing people, being loved on and having a sense of familiarity has been amazing, and there are few more stories to come from it still!
