Welcome parents to the world race.
It couldn't have happened at a better time. As you read in my previous blog, Cambodia was a rough month for me Spiritually. I loved the people there with all I had, but my relationship with God was on the rocks… or so I thought. When I invited my parents on the race, I just wanted them to come so I could see them and my Mom would have the opportunity to do a mission trip. I did not think that Dad would come, but I invited him anyway. I sent the invite in December, not knowing how much I would need them in just 2 months time.
God got my parents to Kenya at the exact moment I needed them to be there. They were excited to see me, and to be able to serve in Kenya. They were a refreshing wind in the dark and barren land I was living in in my soul. God was again quiet, and at times completely silent. I couldn't feel Him anywhere, ever. I would try to worship, I would try and continue on as if He were near. Nothing changed the fact that He was gone.
I was able to meet my family at the Kenyan airport. They arrived just moments before we landed. Megan, Tia, Joan and I managed to make it from Uganda (what a mess) to Kenya unharmed. We gathered with our parents, then headed out of Nairobi to Kijabe that night as the elections were happening that day. We quickly settled into bed, and the next morning we started orientation and ministry.
Our days were pretty busy, but we were given time to hang out as G squad girls and as a family. Mom and Dad were amazing. God was speaking to them in a way that they recognized and were unafraid to declare. Dreams/visions, words, pictures. God used them through manual labour, through story telling, through playing games.
I would say that my favourite part would have been Dad sharing and talking with the Massii man in Tricana, and mom telling her stories at the orphanage. When we went to Tricana, mom and dad were arguing with me on the way up the mountain about who would take the lead in this ministry. They both said me, and I said them. The God opened up the perfect opportunity for both of them. The first person we saw was a woman planting onions, as we approached her, her husband jokingly invited us to help. Gardening is something my family has always done and enjoyed doing, so we said yes. As we were planting, the men separated and started to talk. I was within earshot of their conversation, so I planted and listened to them. The men had lots of questions for my Dad, which he answered. The Samuel (our translator) nudged Dad to ask about his walk with Jesus. Dad asked, the man answered and then responded with the same question. Dad was able to give his testimony and share how God got him to where he is now. I said very little, God did the leading. When we went for lunch, other groups had met the same Massii man and said he couldn't stop talking about the Canadian.
Mom is a born story-teller. She has a way within her that captures the attention of her audiences. I know that she has always wanted to visit and orphanage and "rock babies" as she would say it. And so it was an honour to be present with her when she got that opportunity.
I don't really know who to fit everything that was accomplished during this week into one blog, but I know my parents helped me finish this race with a renewed strength and a new understanding of hiddenness. They are awesome! Love you guys!
