I squatted by the pot of beans much like the way one might squat over a squatty potty. My hands ached and my back throbbed as I began hour two in a kitchen so dimly lit that each time I sliced a tomato, I hoped it wasn’t my finger coming off on the cutting board. One of the orphans sat behind me tearing the large and very raw slab of meat into small pieces so I could grill them for the fajitas. This little white chick does not play with uncooked cow. Sorry not sorry. The power went off for the 10th time that day and I heard Pastor Steven yell USELESS like he does each time the outage occurs. We dined like kings that night and mine and Noah’s stomachs reacted with finesse to the peppers I added to the mix. Burn baby burn.
Our days are not what I expected here in Kenya. I’m becoming more laid back as each day closes and I’m learning that it doesn’t matter to have a plan—we’re on Africa time. Tess and I have begun kickboxing every morning at 8 and we sweat our faces off just in time to take tea and carbs at the 9am breakfast call. We sit for an hour and sometimes discuss cultural differences with our pastor as well as the proper etiquette for releasing bodily functions. Who knew it was profoundly rude to fart in public. If you show quite a struggle to hold it in, then and only then, are you allowed to release it.
The days have passed as gently as the clouds roll over the mountaintops each afternoon. Ugali is quickly becoming one of my favorite foods- no lie. Some days when I’m feeling kinda rebellious, I throw some sugar on that chunk of cornmeal and water and pretend like its cake. I straight up love African cuisine. We eat tons of veggies and usually always have a fruit for dessert. And I can always count on at least three carbs being served each meal. The kale is deliciously cooked with an array of garlic and onions and no shortage of its own natural juices with an air of spinach mixed in. Jane, our pastors wife, always fixes potatoes that have every vegetable grown in Kenya mixed in and would probably choke us due to dryness if not for the soupish concoction she has us pour over it. Absolutely delightful.
So when I'm not eating or taking tea, Jesus and I have gotten to chill since we have pretty slow days here on the farm and He is literally blowing mind. I’ve gotten to reflect and evaluate the past eight months out here. I’ve learned so much and there isn’t a second that I regret. As I’ve done life with many different cultures and seen death and poverty in an intimately grotesque way, it’s shaken me but it’s also shaped me.
The Lord is using Africa to ignite this fire that is deep within me. Its like He's stoking the embers and readying the flames; prepping me for the next explosion. I get tingly just thinking about what He has planned next! There is a passion that burns deep within my soul for my Maker. There is a love that is stronger than the pain that I have seen and felt. This love overcame death and that same love is ripping its way through my heart. There is safety in this relationship with Him. The trust is impenetrable.
Fire falls on sacrifice and I wanna be the offering.
I will do whatever it takes for more of Jesus—for Him to take me into deeper places with Him. He is my passion, my Light. He calls us to live out loud. To live fully alive and have hearts that are willing to be utilized for His Kingdom, knowing that our time here is short. It’s living with an eternal perspective.
God is a Healer, Deliverer and His attributes are as numerous as the African starry nights. I believe in miracles. God's miraculous and He does exceedingly and abundantly more than we can ask or imagine according to the power that is in us. That power is there, that authority is there, but its up to us to tap into it.
We’re in Month 8. We have a choice. We can burn for Him or risk burning out. Trials come for two reasons—to expose something that needs to be fixed or to show that the problem has been fixed. It’s like a tire that goes under water. Each time its submersed, it either reveals the hole or shows the hole is fixed.
More of You at any cost, Jesus. I won’t settle for sitting on the sidelines, trying to figure out the mystery of the gospel. I don’t live in fear of man but rather in holy reverence of You! I’ll let the Holy Spirit do logistics and I’ll be Your vessel. I started this thing taking risks and desiring to go the distance. I came on this Race with zeal and yearning to set the captives free. To loose and bind and kick satan back to hell. And though I’m finishing with battle wounds and plenty of scars, the passion I have for You will never wane. Goodness gracious let’s get this party started! We got Kingdom to spread yall!
