Missing Kenya

I had to opportunity to hang out with an old friend the other night and he asked me about my trip to Kenya. It'd been a few months since someone had asked me to share my experiences and stories. My heart started to pound and I could hardly sit still as stories poured out about the people I still dearly love.

I had forgotten how much I love Kenya. I had forgotten how passionate I am about orphans and street kids, especially the girls. Not really forgotten...I think about Kenya everyday. I suppose it's more that I've become accustomed to pushing past those feelings so I can be fully present in Texas.

My heart is heavy tonight as I reflect on memories, picture faces, and relive adventures. Why am I still in America? I ask myself that question every day and still have only the certainty that for this period, I need to be here. I don't know why. I don't know how long it will last. But I do know that I hope it goes by quickly.

Opportunities

Last week and this current week have already been full of opportunities to share God's love and His story.

Last week, during cabin devotions all of the counselors shared their testimonies with the campers on separate nights. One of the nights (actually, my last night in the cabin due to my illness) I was spontaneously asked to share my testimony. That was an experience! It was just a random night and I had no idea it was coming. All I know is I heard the head counselor say my name, then saw several hands raised around the room. I looked at the translator who had graciously come in so I could hear everyone's story and understand what was happening...she looked at me and smiled, then proceeded to tell me that a vote had just been taken on whether or not the girls wanted to hear my story.

I was overwhelmed! The girls wanted to hear my story! Then a terrible realization hit me: I had no voice. See, I had a terrible, deep chest cough last week and had ruined my voice that day. I panicked for a second trying to figure out what to do, then realized the only thing I could do was pray. So I did, "Lord, if You want me to share my story then I need my voice. Can I have it back for just this time?" I coughed a few times and tried to speak...nothing. So said another quick prayer and tried again...nothing. I smiled at the group as a way of apologizing then started coughing again and suddenly I could speak. Such a miracle!!

After sharing my story I randomly asked if the girls had any questions...almost every hand in the room went up. I laughed because asking for questions was just a random thought, but one that, as a friend would was was "straight from the Lord". After answering dozens of questions about my life story it was well past curfew, 2 hours past in fact, but the time was so worth it. When we got ready for bed, my voice was once again gone. God simply allowed me to speak for that short time and I'm so thankful.

This is a new week, with new campers and already I've had the opportunity to share piece of my story. I always wear a toe ring that says "love never fails". It's been on my toe for five years now and many conversations about love have sparked from people noticing it. Today was no different. I was sitting outside, reading my Bible when two girls from my cabin came up and sat next to me. Almost immediately, one of them looked at my toe, read it then asked, "why do you wear that?" We got into a great conversation about God's unconditional love which was difficult for her to understand because her parent's are divorced, so in her mind, love fails often. She'd never imagined what unconditional love was, it was such a blessing to be able to have that conversation!

English classes

These are the girls in my English class. They're so precious!!

We've been having fun in English class. It's so encouraging to watch their confidence grow as they speak during class.

Today we practiced ordering food from a menu and then paying for it. It was so funny to watch the girls look over a menu and try to sort through the vocabulary they knew about food, then piece it together with what they saw on the menu. For being 13, they're all brilliant!!



One day this week we worked on parts of the body to make sure they understood...they had fun with the sticky notes! The boys (obviously) didn't get into it as much as the girls did.

A normal day at camp looks like this:
7:00- Aerobics or Polar Bear Swim
8:00- Breakfast
9:15- English Class #1
11:00- Teacher Meeting
12:30- Lunch
1:00- Teacher Prep Time
2:30- Free Time
4:30- English Class #2
6:00- Supper
7:45- Evangelism Meeting
9:00- Game
10:00- Devotions
11:00- Lights Out
12:30- Everyone finally asleep!

That a quick update for now. More stories to come!!

It's Different

After being in Hungary for a few days the differences between the American culture and Hungarian culture really start to stand out:

1. After showering today one of the girls asked me if I washed my hair EVERY DAY?! That was weird to them and I had to listen to her explain (in Hungarian so I could only understand her hand motions) why it was so bad.
2. When counting, Hungarians start with their thumbs, not their pointer finger. So if you say "1" and hold up your pointer finger, they think you're saying "2".
3. Cell phones are allowed at camp. I've NEVER been to a camp in the States that allows campers to use their cell phones, but here you see campers walking around talking on the phones or listening to their music all the time. They even have to ask the students to silence their phones during the group meeting times.
4. Not only is washing your hair everyday odd, showering in the morning (like I do) is also a foreign concept to them. They only shower at night.
   
5. You ALWAYS wash the dirt of your shoes. Every bathroom has a brush that looks like a big toothbrush and all the students clean their shoes, well, at least their sandals, every night.
6. Chap stick/lipstick/etc., according to the Hungarians is also bad for you. I got bombarded by girls in my cabin trying to explain (again in Hungarian) how bad it was for my lips as I put on my chap stick before leaving the room.
7. The food...dinner is the lightest meal of the day. Tonight we had sliced white bread, a slice of cheese, sliced meat (ham and salami), a mix of vegetables (tomatoes, cucumbers and peppers) butter and jam. It was all good, but in my mind that's what I eat for lunch. Lunch was noodles with some stroganoff sauce, vegetable soup and white bread, it's their largest meal.
   

Those were a few of the things I've noticed thus far. More to come later...

Trip over, Coca Cola and First Aid

We're in Hungary!! After leaving Dallas at 4:20pm we flew to Frankfurt, Germany. After going through security twice, we arrived at our gate we all sat down exhausted from the overnight flight. I went in search of drinking fountains to fill up our water bottles, Janet found three seats and took a nap, my mom grabbed a book and Rick decided to check his email. I discovered there were no drinking fountains in our section of the airport and went back to re-join with the group. After not sleeping at all on the plane, I took a nap and amazingly fell asleep; so asleep that when my mom woke me up to tell me she had coffee for us to share I told her that I was sleeping and didn't want any (that story was relayed to me on our next flight, I had no memory of it :-)).

It was getting close to our boarding time and the gate wasn't full at all, so wanting to double check, we went to the desk to make sure we were in the right spot only to discover we were in the wrong section of the airport. We quickly made our way across the airport to arrive just in time to board our flight behind a team of grade school soccer players who were good enough to travel internationally to play. It was a fun flight with all those kids on it, everything to them was an adventure to them. Every time we hit turbulence (which happened ALOT) you would hear them gasp, and conversation would break out anytime the clouds cleared enough for the kids to see the ground. When we finally landed in Budapest the kids all cheered (I'm not sure if they were trying to thank the captain and flight crew or just excited to be on the ground again).

We made our way through Budapest and I thought I was back in Kenya. Our driver was trying to beat the incoming storm and was dodging cars and mopeds left and right while laying on the horn. I was so sure he was going to hit someone that I had to close my eyes.

After arriving and lugging my mom's suitcases up to her room, I went to go find where I was staying only to realize the storm was here. I grabbed my suitcase and walked outside only to hear this ruckus coming from "the castle" (pictured above and below) and turned in time to duck as this gigantic piece of plastic came barreling towards me. Part of the building is under construction and the wind was so strong it had been ripped off. After catching my breath one of the staff members came running towards me yelling "get in the car! get in the car!" I turned to head towards the car and ran while dodging huge pieces of bark and branches that were falling on my head, trying to knock me out :-). Once safely in the vehicle, we drove to the opposite end of camp and I finally made it safely inside a building!

As I walked into the dorm room I was greeted by 5 counselors who were enjoying their day off. They greeted me in Hungarian to which I replied "Hello, I'm Lauren".
"American?" they asked
"Igen" (one of a handful of Hungarian words I know). As soon as Hungarian came out of my mouth they got all exicted and started talking to me. I crushed their hopes when I explained I only knew English.
We all just looked at each other, then one of the girls pointed to my shirt and said, "Coca Cola in America?"
"Yes" I replied
"In Hungary" there, we had found a common thread between us and that's all it took. At that moment I was very thankful Coca-Cola is universal and knew we could overcome the language barrier.

I spend the rest of the afternoon laughing with the girls as we all tried to communicate with our limited knowledge of each other's languages mostly understanding through body language and motions we would come up with. Then it was time for supper. I sat witht the girls who introduced me to one of their English speaking friends and we were able to confirm or correct what we all knew about each other. After a meal of grilled chicken and sausage, some vegetable mix with lot of maynaisse and white bread we made our way back to the dorm where one of the girls pulled "Uno" out of her bag. I spent the next hour learning how to play Uno by their rules (I lost every game except the last one), and learned the Hungarian for red, green, blue and yellow :-). Then I taught them how to play "Go Fish" and we worked on their English numbers.

Once the girls headed off to their counselors meeting I started making my bed and organizing my stuff when another girl came limping into the dorm. Thankfully she spoke some English so I was able to ask her what was wrong. She had been walking around barefoot and had several splinters in her toe. I went to get my tweezers and offered my assistance. She accepted and as I was pulling splinters out she asked if I was a doctor. I laughed, and said "no" then giggled again. She asked me why I was laughing. I thought about it and said, "I never thought about having to use my first aid here so I think it's funny that God likes to remind me that I can use it anywhere." She seemed to understand. I had her bandaged up and out the door in 20 minutes where I finished unpacking and finally fell into bed at 9pm and slept solidily through the night, didn't even hear the girls come back into the room.

The kids come today!! Whoo Hoo!!

There's Wi-Fi in "the castle" (which I didn't know about) so I should be able to blog/email fairly regularly.

to live is ___ and to die is ___

Have you ever had those moments when you question why you're doing something, or how you got involved? That happened to me tonight.

Tonight was the last night of Celebration with our refugee kids and it was a rough night. The entire evening I was talking to kids about their attitudes, mostly their ungratefulness. No matter what we do, or what snack we have, or how many volunteers there are the kids ALWAYS complain. Tonight it was the worst. We had planned a special night for the kids. After playing games and talking in small groups we ended with a pizza party and chocolate chip cookies. The kids got one slice of pizza and two cookies each and all they could do was complain, "I don't like this kind of pizza/cookie"or, "the pizza is cold" or, "the cookies aren't warm". I just wanted to take it all back. In reality, I wanted to make them all sit down and give them a speech about their attitudes, but settled for one on one interaction with several individuals instead.

At the end of the night all the volunteers just sat down and we all felt discouraged. We didn't commit 3 hours each Monday night to hear, "I hate you!" or be cussed out by kids. None of us came to break-up fights or try to maintain peace. Or did we? As we talked about why we were there I started searching my own motives and realized part of me came because I wanted to make a difference. I came because I thought I could be an asset, because working with kids from Africa fulfilled a need I had. However, I kept coming back because I belong to a Lord who desires for all of those kids to know Him.

Philippians 1 talks about the gospel being preached for two motives, a right one and a wrong one, but that Christ can use both. Verse 21 says, "for me, to live is Christ and to die is gain". I had a professor in college who once wrote that verse out on a white board with two blank spaces: for me, to live is _____ and to die is ______. As we talked about this verse she said something I'll never forget, "unless the first blank is Christ, the second will never be gain." That was a reality for me tonight. Through all the hardships and attitudes, during all the times I've been spit on, cussed out and flipped off, at the end of the day, if I endured it all for Christ then it wasn't for loss, but for gain.

It was a hard truth to remember during a rough night, but also encouraging and challenging.

I know the kids enjoyed celebration, I know they want to come and I know they talk about it when they get home. We made a difference, even if it doesn't seem like it, even if it seems like no ground was gained, if we were all their for God's glory and not our own, then we succeeded!

"Auntie L"

I love being called "Auntie L", it makes my heart so joyful and brings back such pleasant memories. That, among others, is one of the reasons why I love the refugees.

They're such a funny bunch. No matter what you do with the kids they always say, "it's BORING" (I've always despised that word). Yet, when you bring them back home, they can do nothing but talk about how much fun they had. Go figure!

They're also a rowdy group. Last week I lost it and definitely yelled at them. This week as one of the older girls was getting on the bus, she found me and said,
"Auntie L, you’re the one who yelled at us that first day at camp, right?” (camp is what they call West Dallas).
“Yes, I am." I replied, feeling remorseful for my actions, yet at the same time, knowing they behaved much better the rest of the day. "Do you think I was wrong to yell at you?” I asked?
“No, we was being bad...you probably shoulda’ yelled at us sooner”
Such blatant honesty! I loved it and that comment most definitely brought a smile to my face.

Unfortunately, that smile was quickly wiped away as some older boys try to get on the bus. That was an interesting experience. It was a moment I wish there was a man around because I felt very small and un-intimidating. Nothing dramatic happened I could just tell the three of them were debating how serious I was when I told them they weren't coming. The flirtatious teenage girls didn’t help my situation. The boys looked from them to me and replied, "What if I got on the bus anyway?" I hate 'what are you going to do about it' challenges like that, especially when I have no idea how to respond. I tried something basic, "it's not going to come to that, cause you're going to turn around and walk away" surprised my response came with much more calmness than I felt. They looked at me, looked back at the bus, back and me, then walked away. I said a quiet thank you to God and let out a HUGE sigh of relief. Here’s hoping they don’t come back.

There are times with the refugees when I feel at a completely loss of what to say or what to do, but I'm beginning to see a change in them. They still push the boundaries (just like all kids do) and drive me crazy at times, but I love them.

We haven't made much progress as far as getting them to interact with the West Dallas kids, but we still have 3 more days :-)

Through the West Dallas camp we've had 20+ kids (West Dallas and Refugee) accept Christ as their Savior. Praise God for that!!

More stories to come...

Prejudice

Lately, I've had the opportunity to be involved in the lives of some refugee children and I've learned so much through those experiences. I've re-learned that my heart is pulled towards Africans, I can't help it, I just LOVE them so much! I've learned that I get much more feisty when I hang out with African teens (and I talk differently). I've also learned alot about prejudices.

On Monday nights I'm involved in a program called Celebration. It's an outreach to refugees in a certain apartment complex. The entire complex is government housing and I believe most of the families are refugees. Anyhow we go around to several different apartments where refugee families live to pick up their kids and drive them to Celebration where we have a snack, play games and have a Bible story. So, I'm hanging out with some kids desperately trying to play this game I learned in Kenya where you pull and push rocks in and out of a circle all while you toss and catch a rock in your hand. The kids make it look SO easy and either I'm really bad at it or it's not as easy as it looks (I'm hoping for the later). As the girls laugh at me when I again fail to properly complete my turn, I get asked to lead one of the Bible study groups. I gathered my 7 little girls and we walked to find a spot to sit down. I asked them to sit in a circle and that's when it happened...

See, one of the little girls in my group was Burundi, while the other girls were Somali and what I didn't know is that the Burundi kids and the Somali kids don't get along very well. "I'm not sitting next to her, I don't like her!" to which the other girls replied in some African dialect (I've also learned that when the kids talk in their mother tongue, it's because they don't want me to know what they're saying because they know they shouldn't be saying it in the first place). I looked at my sister Kristen and we had a brief conversation with our eyes, both knowing we had to stop this before it erupted yet not knowing how to. Then, Kristen picked up one of the little girls, sat inbetween them and that simple action made it all better. The Bible story that night was about the birth of Jesus and the main point was the Jesus came to save his people from their sins.

On Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday I've been privledged to take the refugee kids to a camp called West Dallas. This is what happened the first day:

I'm trying to organize 43 kids to get them their name tags, make sure everyone stays out of the parking lot, and makes it into the gym when 6 of my kids come running up to me, "Auntie L, we're not going in there!"
"Why not?" I asked, slightly confused
"Have you seen who's in there and how many of them there are?"
I stopped and turned around at that point beyond confused but not liking the way my kids just said them. "What are you talking about?"
"Them! (pointing to the African American kids from the west Dallas community) We don't like them!"
I just stared at them, searching for the right words. "You don't even know them!"
"We know what they're like."

Racism runs deeper that skin color. Some part of me always knew that, but I'd never experienced to this degree. I was shocked. Here I was surrounded by African kids who were prejudice towards the African American children. I finally got the Somali kids inside the building where they segregated themselves from the other children and complained about how unfriendly "they" were.

"Look, they're just staring at us. See this is why we don't like them."
I'd about had it with their attitudes at this point. A few of the west Dallas kids had walked over to say hi and my kids had gone off in some African dialect. "Well, what did you expect? You walk in here, take one look at them and decide to sit in a circle away from them."
"They called us ill!"
"Well, with your attitude, I'd call you ill too!" I stood up after that, not wanting to encourage this segregation anymore.
"No, you wouldn't. You love us."
"Yes, I do. But right now, I really don't like your attitude so I'm going to talk to my other friends."

Their jaws dropped as I walked over to talk with the West Dallas kids who wanted to know why my friends weren't sitting with them. I suggested they go and introduce themselves and see if that helps. Within minutes they were all friends and apart from some of their clothing, you couldn't tell who was who.

I've gone through this process in one form or another everyday this week. It's the same kids everyday, and it still takes about the same amount of time to get them to see the world around them in a new light. You'd think the blonde, white girl is the one they'd have an attitude towards, but no, it's each with each other.

The encouraging part is that once they move past what they think they know, all the kids can be friends. We have another week with these kids, my prayer is that after spending two weeks with each other they'll stop letting themselves be brainwashed with what other people say and form their own opinions.

On another high note, the refugee children who come to West Dallas get to hear the gospel everyday and everyday I see more of them paying attention and asking more questions. It's not all cake and ice cream though. The other day as we were getting ready to leave, an uncle of one of the children came onto the bus and basically dragged his niece off. It was so unnerving to not know enough of the situation to be able to intervene. The lady who has been working daily with the refugees did all she could, but my heart still broke. Fear rippled through the bus as kids started questioning if they were going to get in trouble with any of their relatives for going. I was reminded in that moment that Satan will do anything he can to scare us away from God's truth.

Life is Rarely Boring

This past week has been full of some adventures for my family...

On Wednesday my mom walked into our chicken pen to feed her chickens and saw this:

Yeah, not the sight most women enjoy seeing. She came into the house and informed us there was a snake in the chicken pen, of course we all had to go out and see (all of us being my dad, kristen and myself). The snake was VERY tangled in the netting. How he managed to get his head through and then get that stuck, I'll never know.

So, like all good Texas home school families, I went inside to get our snake book to figure out what kind of snake it was because I'd never seen one with his coloring before. Yes, I have seen many snakes on our property before, most of them have been found in our chicken pen.

After finding out it was non-venomous, we cut it out of the netting and my dad transported him to some location away from our home.

Last night, Dad treated his girls (my mom, Kristen and myself) to a Rangers baseball game. As we took our seats and announcement came on that the game would be delayed at least 30 minutes due to storms that were coming our way. We stayed, hoping the game would go on...this was the result of the storms:

Needless to say, the game was canceled. Though we did sit there waiting for a good 2 hours for them to call the game so we could get rain checks for tickets.

The rain persisted into through the night. The storms, just kept developing and dumping rain on us. They also kept us awake with incredibly loud booms of thunder and bright streaks of lightening.

Now, at my house, when it rains that consistently our back patio tends to collect water. When the water gets high enough, it leaks through our foundation and into our living room, soaking our carpet. In order to prevent that catastrophe, we have to sweep the water away from the door.

Dad and Stephen took different approaches to this task. Dad gets dressed for Niagra Falls. while Stephen thinks it best to take off his shirt to show off his muscles.

When it rains 9 inches in 13 hours, the water also collects in our front yard. The property around our house was structured so that the water flows from our neighbors property, into ours, then under the culvert on our street and to the creek a quarter mile away. However, leaves, sticks (and in our case this morning peaches) get stuck in the fence between our home and our neighbors preventing the water from flowing properly.

When that happens, we have to swim through the water and pull out the junk in the fence to let the water flow. The water was pretty high this morning, Stephen was up to his waist. The downfall to this task, all the fire ants and spiders are floating in the water and latch onto to anything solid they can find then bite. Stephen came away itching, and I was so glad it was him and not me!

Once all our tasks were complete and everyone's houses were safe, Stephen, Jonathan and I made boats and had races in the water :-).

It reminded me, life's rarely boring.

"You speak Spanish?!"

Tonight Kristen and I went to a park where there was an event being held for some refugees. Funniest quotes from the night came from this 7 year old African boy.

Quote #1: I was talking to this little boy when Kristen came up and introduced herself and informed him we were sisters. He said, "you look alike but you're (Kristen) skinny and she (Lauren) is...well bigger". He has so much to learn about girls!!

Quote #2: He asked Kristen a question to which Kristen responded, "no way, hosea". The boy whipped his around and said, "Whoa!! You speak Spanish!?!" Kristen and I had a good laugh about that as we drove home.

Quote #3: As Kristen continued talking to him he informed her that she "needed to get some of the magical make-up he saw on a commercial on TV to cover up the red on her face." We didn't mention the fact that make-up doesn't really work like that.

Here are some pictures from the evening:

Change of Plans…

Right now I’m sitting in very loud, crowded sports bar killing a couple of hours…okay, that sounds bad let’s try again. I’m sipping a coke, eating a spinach salad and thinking through the days events in a hotel restaurant that happens to be broadcasting the Lakers vs. Spurs game. I’ve recently come from crashing a wedding reception at the same hotel (there’s a first time for everything I guess). This wasn’t my plan. I’m supposed to be camping at Lake Tahoe with friends right now, so how to did I get here? Let’s start from the beginning…

How hard can it be to reach Reno? That was my question as I waited for my first flight this morning to leave the Dallas Love Field airport. Well, let me tell you, it was much more difficult than I anticipated and filled with lots of adventures along the way.

As I was checking my luggage I received my first clue that this trip was going to be more than I expected. I’m standing at the baggage check-in counter waiting for the guy to hand me my luggage claim ticket when he starts talking to me. I didn’t mind the idle chat until it turned into a pick-up line, “I’ll make you a deal, I’ll give you your claim ticket if you give me your number.” I was so thrown off guard that I just started at him blankly for a beat before replying, “how about I make you a deal, you give me my claim ticket now and I won’t report you.” I know that was kinda direct, but oh well. His co-worker was holding back fits of laughter as I walked away (claim ticket in hand) and I could hear the harassing start.

I laughed as I made my way to the security screening thinking, what a way to start this trip. I’m waiting at the back of a long line when another airline worker makes eye contact with me and waves me over to the express passenger check (a line I wasn’t supposed to be in), “you didn’t think I was going to let a pretty thing like you stand in that long line now did you?” I wanted to laugh. There was obviously something in the water at Love Field airport making men go crazy. I did, however, make a mental note of my appearance in case I ever need a self-confidence boost. ☺

I finally make it to my gate, got on the plane and flew to out first stop, El Paso after an hour delay due to weather. Nothing too extreme happened on that leg of the journey. Talked to the guy next to me, but that wasn’t a big deal, it was actually a really good conversation about life.

With no delays in El Paso, we continued onto Phoenix where I encountered another delay, this one lasted 1.5 hours due traffic control in San Francisco not having space for our plane to land. Luckily, they let us get off the plane and walk around the terminal, get food, etc.

Finally everyone gets on the plane and we start to pull out from the gate then the plane suddenly jerks forward and we stop. The captain comes on, “folks we seem to have an engine problem here, we’re going to pull back in the gate and let the mechanics take a look at it.” What passenger wants to be told the plane they’re on has an engine problem?!? Despite the engine troubles, I’m starting to get worried about making my airport transition from San Francisco to Oakland. See, San Francisco doesn’t fly to Reno, but Oakland does. I researched public transport to see if it was possible to get from the San Francisco airport to the Oakland airport. Thanks to the BART it was. The route normally takes 1 hour, 1.5 hours in rush hour. I’m an overly cautious person though, so I decided it would take me a full 2 hours to reach the Oakland airport. Perfect, my plane was scheduled to land at 1:55 pm and my flight from Oakland let at 6:05 pm. So during the planning stage of this adventure I thought that was PLENTY of time, even if my flight got delayed. Boy was I wrong. It took 44 minutes to “check” the engine. People started to get irritated, the AC wasn’t working and the plane was getting HOT. The lady sitting next to me was supposed to catch an international flight to London from San Francisco, but her window was growing very slim. She got off the plane to work something out with the airline, I hope she made it. Looking back, I kinda wish I had done something similar.

So let me update you, I’m now running over 3 hours late, my leisurely time window for traveling from SFO to OAK is getting slimmer by the minute. I could feel my heart rate speed up when I thought about it. I’d never been to San Francisco before! I was thinking it’d been a fun, safe adventure to take public transport, now it was turning into a high stress moment. Another lady next to me, grew up in San Francisco and gave me very clear directions on how to use the BART system. I was feeling a little more confident as I got off the plane and went to collect my luggage. I had 2 hours until my flight left, I was thinking I could dump the liquids that wouldn’t fit in my little plastic sack and just carry my suitcase on so I wouldn’t have to mess with baggage check. I knew I’d be pressed for time, but I also knew if I could just get to a Southwest desk at the Oakland airport, they’d hold the flight for me.

I’m waiting by the conveyer belt to get my suitcase, praying it’s one of the first ones off. Guess what happened? The belt malfunctioned, “something happened to the luggage belt?” I thought…at that point I honestly felt like crying, nothing seemed to be going right, all I could focus on was that it was another delay. Finally I took a deep breath and just decided I wasn’t going to worry about it. The way I decided to look at it was that if God wanted me to make it to Reno Saturday night, then I’d make it onto my flight. If not, then I’d soak up whatever He had in mind for me in the San Francisco area. After waiting for my suitcase to finally come. I made my way to the BART system, knowing full well I wasn’t going to make it, but thinking maybe God could work it all out. I successfully navigated my way around San Francisco using public transport and arrived at the Oakland airport just in time to see what I assume was my flight take-off.

I’ve been talking with my Dad this whole time who tried to contact the airport to let them know I was on my way, to no avail. He continually assured me that I was doing my best and that he and the rest of my family were glad I was the one on the adventure because none of them would have handled it as well. After another deep breath I approach the ticket counter and explain my situation. Thankfully, the man was very understanding and offered to book me on the first flight to Reno and gave me two options: 1, somehow get to the San Jose airport by 8:30 Sunday morning, or 2, stay in Oakland and wait to leave on the next flight to Reno at 1:30 Sunday afternoon.

I called my friend Hope and explained the situation. The most upsetting part of this whole adventure was the thought that I was messing up Hope’s weekend plans. She’d been working hard all week and deserved a relaxing camping rather than having to wait on me to arrive. I told her she could go camping and I’d just stay the night in Oakland, she laughed at me, told me there was NO WAY she was letting me in Oakland alone, and with no hesitation informed me she would make the 4 hour drive down the San Francisco to pick me up. Yea, she’s pretty much the world’s greatest friend!!

So, now I have 4 hours to kill in Oakland. What does a single white girl do in Oakland? She calls the nearest airport hotel that offers free shuttles to the airport ☺. That’s how I made my way to the hotel. I explained my situation to the gal behind the counter. She told me I was more than welcome to stay and then, with a wink, informed me there was a wedding reception taking place in the ball room. She pointed me to where I could change. How funny is that? So, that’s what I did. I had brought a dress, so I put it on, let my luggage behind the counter with my new found hotel friend and walked over to the reception. I’d seen movies where people did that, but NEVER did I think I would be the one to crash a wedding reception. I ate some food, danced a little and then left the reception. Wish I had taken pictures.

That brings us to now. Hope’s on her way to get me, it’ll be a late night for us, but the adventure will continue.

"What's Next?"

It's a question I get asked almost everyday, "so Lauren, what are you going to do now?" or "what are your plans now?" Because I hear these questions so often, there are times when I feel like a failure because I don't have it all figured out. I have no idea what's next.I almost feel like people are waiting for my life to continue. Like I've hit the pause button for the moment and they're ready for me to get on with it. I'm waiting for someone to offer a suggestion after I tell them, "I don't know", but that hasn't happened yet. :-)

Questions about my future plans strike a nerve sometimes because I like to have things figured out. Believe me, I wish I knew what the next thing was, but I don't. I do know, however, that I'm not waiting for my life to continue, I know it's happening right now. However, I also know there's something missing. I'm doing things I love, but it's just lacking something I need. I just can't put my finger on what that missing piece is.

So, until that glorious day when God sheds some light on my future plans, I'm sticking to the knowledge that's He's in control:

He has showed you, O man, what is good.
And what does the LORD require of you?
To act justly and to love mercy and
to walk humbly with your God. -Micah 6:8

European Adventures

The trip started out with an interesting stop at Fry's Electronics to get a few last minute items. As Valerie and I are walking out of the store, this guy stops by the counter and asks the person who checks your receipt if he could hold onto his item while the shopper ran out to his car to grab his wallet. The store attendant gave him an odd look, said, "sure" as the shopper was quickly walking out of the store. Val and I get our receipt and items checked and started walking out the door as two men outside approached the moneyless shopper. It was one of those surreal moments when you feel as though you're caught in a movie. The forlorn shopper paused and looked around as if he was deciding whether to admit defeat or put up a fight. One of the two guys outside flashed some kind of a badge at the shopper and then other man approached the shopper. The shopper took off and about 2 seconds later was on the ground because of the other guys tackled him. At this moment, Valerie and are frozen trying to figure out what's going on. Should we call 911, say something, or just walk away? Option 3 didn't sit well with either of us, but neither did we want to get involved in whatever was going on. All the while the 3 guys are struggling, shopping carts are crashing, the men are yelling and Nathan (Valerie's husband) is telling us to "get in the car!" We were smart enough to listen to him, walked to the car, climbed in and watched from the window as the guy was dragged away in handcuffs and the Fry's started letting people out of the store again. No idea how that story ended, but it was an adventurous way to start off our trip.

We had fun in Ireland for St Patrick's day. The streets were crowded with hundreds of thousands of people. We met up with the Flannigans, a couple who my dad has supported for 35+ years and only met them once!! They were such a joyful couple. We also met up with JBU friend, Daniel Ostendorff. What would we have done in Ireland without him? It was an incredibly long, wonderful, green day. We found out that St. Patrick's Day was never celebrated in Ireland until the country realized it was a tourist attraction. We made a bigger deal out of the day than anyone in Ireland did. What was sad is that the story of St. Patrick is fascinating, yet no one knows it. For most people in the world, St Patrick's Day is about wearing green and drinking beer rather than about a man who knew he was supposed to spread the gospel in Ireland.

We then made our way to Paris. Here we have the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, Valerie (who's goal in life is to have a cool handstand pose of every place in the world she visits) and Val and I at the Louvre trying to mirror the portrait entitled "Twins".

We had a fabulous time in Paris with Cyril and his family!! We learned Nathan can sleep anywhere. Cyril enjoys growing facial hair when he's on holiday from school. Funny story about this place. Kristen, my wonderful sister often has to use the bathroom which is both horrible and great on trips. Horrible because we have to stop, but great because everyone else has to go too, we've just convinced ourselves we can "hold it". So we tour this palace and once we leave the area Kristen announces, "I might need us to find a bathroom". Cyril (not being used to this side of Kristen) responds, "WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS?!? We just came from the bathroom, but we can't go back in now! Why? Why?!" Val, Nate and I are all just about dying laughing at Cyril's dramatic response. Nevertheless, he finds Kristen a bathroom then comes back and asks, "does she always do this?" It's not as funny without hearing his accent and tone, but you get the picture.

We met all of Cyril's friends our last night in Paris. Few videos below for some of our crazy times that night. And I apparently fell in love with a statue in Luxembourg gardens!!

Nathan and Valerie (well, more Valerie than Nathan) have this saying whenever it's time for Nathan to wake up from his nap, "Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey" It has no significant meaning, but Cyril's family LOVED it!!

We woke up the next morning and drove down to Marseilles where we got on board a ferry and docked in beautiful Corsica Island. Yes all of this is Corsica, beach and mountains with snow! One day we decided to hike in the snowy mountains. After Valerie and I fell through the snow, we decided to turn around. Then Nate fell through the snow up to his hip, CRAZY day!

Our final day in Corsica we drove to Bonafacio and were almost blown away!!



We jumped back on a the ferry to head back to France. That night, there was some mix-up with our room situations. The guys were supposed to have a room and the girls were supposed to have a room, however the ferry put 4 of us in one room and 1 in a different room. The guys room had 3 other French men staying in there. After the Nate and Daniel Ray tried to work it out with the ferry crew, Nate came back to the girls room (French guy behind him), as he opened the door to our room, all 3 of us shrieked a little to which the French man responded, "ooh lala" and kindly offered to switch rooms with Nathan =).


After a brief stay in Switzerland, we headed back to Belgium where we boarded our flight back to Dallas filled with lots of memories, tons of stories, and many more adventures ahead.

Giving Everything

This morning the Sunday school lesson for all the children in church was Mark 12:41-44, "The Widows Offering". My mother, being the brilliant teacher that she is, decided make the lesson more real for her 4 and 5 year olds by giving them $.15 to either keep or give back to the church for offering. After telling them the story, she explained that each child could decide to give all of the money, some of the money or none of the money and it was up to them. One little 4-year-old girl immediately jumped up and with a joyful, excited smile gave all of her $.15 without being coerced. That started a chain reaction of several other children giving all their money too. Then a 5-year-old boy put an end to that trend when he decided to give just "some" of his money ($.3). It came down to two little girls who looked at their coins, looked at my mom, looked back at their money and without hesitation clenched their little fists tight around their coins and said, "it's mine". The money was given to them and they weren't giving it up. What's surprising about this is that one of the 2 little girls is what I would call a "spiritual child". She knows so many Bible verses, and Christian songs, but it's all head knowledge, the truths haven't sunk into her heart.

After each child had given what they wanted, my mother pulled out chocolate coins. For the kids who gave everything, they received 2 large chocolate coins, for the kids who gave some, they received 1 large chocolate coin, and for the children who chose to not give anything, they received 1 small chocolate coin. The point of the reward was for the children to learn that when they give everything they have, God will continue to bless them with more. And even if they chose to give nothing, God continues to pour out his love and grace on them.

As my mom relayed this story to me, my mind whirled with spiritual lessons. How often do I do this? How often do I look at the blessings God has bestowed upon me and think, "it's mine. I'm entitled to this!"? Regretfully, I do it often, too often. Rather than looking at what I have and seeing it as gifts from God; blessings bestowed upon me, I fall prey to the American mindset of thinking, "I deserve this!".

I just read a book by Rob Bell called Jesus Wants to Save Christians. In the book, Rob explains how God has always called His people to care for the poor; the widow, the orphan, the refugee. God blesses His people so they can bless others, so they can be His hands and feet to a hurting world. I live in America, a "Christian" nation, yet what do we do with our resources? North America comprises 1/5 of the world's population, yet consumes 86% of the world's gross product. Does that sound like using what God has given us to bless others? There are an estimated 6 billion people in the world, over half (3.5 billion) of whom live on less than $2 a day. What do we do with what God has given us? We use it to make ourselves comfortable.

I recently returned from Kenya and like so many other people returning from third world countries I was amazed at how people could have so little, yet be so joyful. Why is this? I think it's because people in third world countries who have what we would call nothing see what they have as a gift. They don't think they're entitled to more, they're grateful they have anything at all. I once heard a speaker call "entitlement" the seventh deadly sin; the more I live and learn, the more I agree with him.

I’m not entitled to anything. There is nothing I have done in my life that deserves a reward of any kind. So my question is this: what would happen if I start giving EVERYTHING I have? What would happen if I stopped clenching my fists tight around worldly things and thinking, “it’s mine.”? What would happen if I use what little power, influence and possessions I have to bless the poor of this world?

I don’t know what God has next for me in life, but I do know that a 4-year-old girl reminded me an important lesson this morning: there’s joy and freedom in giving everything you have to the Lord. No matter what comes next in life, I don’t want to hold back.

Being Back...

I’ve been back in the states for 12 full days now. 12 days of seeing friends and family. 12 days of eating lots of good food. 12 days of processing. 12 days of reverse culture shock. 12 days of adjustment and transition. Though worthwhile, let’s just say they haven’t been the easiest 12 days of my life.

As I type I’m sitting in Coppell at my Aunt’s home listening to planes fly into DFW and wishing I could get on one and fly away. I hear cars drive by on paved roads. I hear the roar of the motor, the whisk in the wind as the car moves past the house, but I don’t hear the birds singing…I miss that noise, the pleasant chirping of birds outside my bedroom window. I miss the quietness, the way that nature sings in the morning and welcomes you to greet the day. The tranquility that came without hearing man made noises brought peace to my soul. I miss it.

I miss the simplicity of Kenya and how you make do with what you have. I’m amazed by the amount of “things” we have within our reach. And how quickly we’re able to get those things. You never have to go wanting. I walked into a grocery store today for the first time since my return and was completely overwhelmed. There were so many options of the same product, just in case you were unhappy with the cheaper version there’s a more expensive one for you to test as well! I just stood in the store awe struck for a minute or two thinking, “this must be what refugees feel like”. I’m also amazed how everything here is big. This is Texas after all, the bigger the better, right =)? But why does everything have to be so elaborate?

More than anything, I miss my dependence on God. In Kenya, especially my first few months, I needed God to get through everyday. I was continuously dependent on Him for every moment. Without Him, I knew there was no way I would survive. I had a hunger to be in His presence, to be in communication with Him because He was all I had, the Rock I could stand on, the listening ear when no one else could understand. He was the driving force behind my choice to stay. He’s the same God as in Kenya. He doesn’t change, but for some reason, my need for Him did.

Being constantly dependent on God, trusting Him with everything, I don’t know how to do that here. Nor do I know why it’s different here. I don’t understand how my inner need for God can change based on the continent under my feet. Life in America is comfortable for me. I’m encouraged and built up when I’m here. I know my family and friends love me. I know I have countless resources available. I know I can make a call and someone will be there for me. It wasn’t always like that in Kenya. There were times when I felt very alone and isolated and I knew all I had was God. I had to learn to lean on Him in a new way. And right now, I’m already turning back to my old ways.

America has a way of making you independent. For example: transportation. In Kenya, we relied on public transportation to get anywhere. It was that or using our legs for walking (which we did a lot). We were dependent on someone else to drive us where we needed to go, and trusted God that the vehicle was going to get us there safely. But in taking public transportation you have to wait. You have to wait for the vehicle to fill up with passengers. You have to wait at the driver makes countless stops to pick up people more people to put in the already full vehicle. You have to wait while he load or unloads something for someone. You have to wait as people pile in and pile out of the vehicle. You have to wait when they stop for gas. You have to wait at police checks. There’s just a lot of waiting involved. We could probably get places twice as fast if we had our own vehicle. But that independence wasn’t an option, you had to be dependent. It’s part of their lifestyle.

Kenya is also a much slower paced society. People run on “Kenyan time”, in fact, if you want someone to be at a meeting on time, you have to say, “that’s 9:00am AMERICAN time” or else you’ll have to wait. That’s because Kenyans take their time Rarely is a matter too urgent to walk past someone rather than stop and talk to each other. Community is encouraged through people not being in such a hurry. Contrast that mindset to the American lifestyle. I was at a coffee shop the other day and out of the 17 patrons, I was the only one without a laptop computer. In the coffee shop there were tables designed for 4 people, yet only one person would be sitting at them. I just laughed. Here are several people all quietly typing away at their laptops taking up every available table in the coffee shop (I’m looking for a place to sit at this coffee shop). No sense of community was fostered, everyone was in their own little world sitting at their own table, typing on their own laptop. This would NEVER happen in Kenya. If someone needed a place to sit and there’s an available chair at your table, they’ll sit there. It’s common, they don’t have to ask, it’s just part of the culture. It’s not rude, so no one will get offended. They don’t expect you to talk to them, or engage them in anyway, but you can. It’s part of this sharing mentality that America seems to have lost.

I’m adjusting and learning how to be okay with not being okay. Some parts of the American culture frustrate me and I continually pray for grace in my interactions with people. In 2 weeks I head to Europe with my sisters and brother-in-law for a back-packing adventure. I think it will be good for my soul to take a small vacation from this culture, maybe it will help me gain some perspective.

Currently, I’m living at home and waiting on God to show me what He wants from me next. I have no future plans, no job possibilities as of yet and I’m okay with that. Actually, I’m really enjoying having free time. It allows me to meet with people and tell my story, or re-connect with what God did in their life over the past 6 months.

This will be my last email concerning my Africa Adventure. If you want to stay up dated on my life I’m going to start posting blogs again on my blog site: raikesadventures.blogspot.com. Thank you for being a part of this journey with me. It was a life changing experience and I couldn’t have done it without your encouragement and support.

I’d like to leave you with a few verses that meant a lot to me in Kenya and were of constant encouragement.

“If you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any fellowship with the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete be being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and purpose. Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others. Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus: who being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death – even death on a cross! Therefore, God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” Philippians 2: 1-11

Performing

"You are the ones who justify yourselves in the eyes of men, but God knows your hearts. What is highly valued among men is detestable in God's sight." Luke 16:15

In the passage above God is talking to the Pharisees about how they can't love money and God. He just told the parable of the shrewd manager and the Pharisees snickered because they thought they were capable of both- or at the very least they could put on a good show.

I was listening to a lesson on my iPod yesterday and the speaker said something that got me thinking: "If I perform for God, He'll watch me. Buy if I call out to God, He'll answer." For me performing for God is comfortable, it's something I've done off and on my whole life. When I was in college, for example, I was involved in EVERYTHING. I led a college small group, I led a small group for junior high girls, I was in a Bible study, I was on the student ministries leadership team, I helped plan and execute youth events, I taught Sunday school, I volunteered at the children's shelter...to name a few. And I did it all while having a part time job and being a full-time student. In each of those activities, if I could lead it, all the better. Why did I do it? Because I wanted to be somebody. I wanted to make a difference; to impact people's lives, so I got involved. It's not that my motives were awful, there's nothing wrong with wanting to impact people's lives for Jesus, or that my heart wasn't in the right place. The problem was that I was performing.

Now, granted, I learned alot through all those experiences that I value. I can juggle several activities and events at the same time without stressing out, I learned how to manage my time wisely, I read my Bible more during those years than I ever had before. However, I also learned thing from those experiences I wish I hadn't, mainly, I learned how to be a talented performer. I say the right things, have the correct body gestures, smile at the right times, give comfort when needed, etc. Again, none of that's bad and God has used my performance for His glory, but He wants more from me...He deserves more from me.
I'm tired of performing. I want to call out to God; I want to seek first His kingdom; I want the outpouring of His spirit in my life...I want more. I guess this is kind of my way of drawing a line in the sand, of saying I'm going to be different when I get back to Dallas and I wanted you each to know because you're each part of this journey. That's what the body of Christ is about.

So there's my newest lesson from the Lord...always a learner.

Traveling Adventures, Dependence on God, and Art Projects

What does it look like? That’s a question I’ve been asking myself a lot lately. When I think about my life and how I live, I wonder what it looks like to other people. If the turmoil I sometimes feel comes through, or if I wear the “happy Christian” mask all the time. So, let me take this opportunity to be open and vulnerable…

This week has been an amazing time of fellowship with our group. We decided to put James aside for awhile and just come together, share what God has been teaching us, encourage and uplift one another, etc. We have no agenda for these times. We open in prayer and then often times sit in silence for several minutes…just waiting for someone to start the discussion. I don’t mind sitting in silence, but often times this silence is awkward. What makes the silence so awkward at times is because we normally transition from a time of laughter and jokes where everyone has something to say to prayer and then silence as we all prepare ourselves to once again become open and vulnerable with each other. It’s such an interesting transition.

Our group time in the morning is so unique because it’s unplanned. It’s taken me a week to get used to the unknown of our mornings, but what comes out of them is so encouraging and my heart feels overjoyed. This morning we opened with a song by Downhere called Great are You. The words to the chorus say, “Because I’ll never hold a picture of the whole horizon in my view. Because I’ll never rip the night in two, it makes me wonder: Who am I? What am I? Who am I and Great are You!!” The part about the horizon made me think about an adventure I had yesterday…

I accompanied Meredith and our social worker Ann to do two assessments on families yesterday to see if they fit our program. The first assessment was in a town called Kiminini. We walked what felt like a couple of miles to get to the home, because it was more in the village part of the town, and met with the grandmother and the children she had taken into her home, most of them aren’t related to her in any way, just abandoned children that she chose to love. The children were beautiful. Even in their tattered and torn clothing they had a joy about them and smiles that could brighten the room. Once we finished the assessment, we headed back into the town and then off to our second family…

We had never been out to this village before and had heard about the family through a friend of our social worker. The man who informed us about the family met us at a town called Burundi and led us to the home. To get to the village we had to travel across this large expanse of land (to me it felt like I was traveling across the country). It took us 1 ½ hours on boda bodas (bicycle taxis) with lots of walking uphill inbetween riding on the bikes. However, the beauty of the horizon surrounding me took my breath away. All around me were rolling hills that were a rich green because of the rain we’ve recently had, Mt Elgon felt close enough to touch, the hills were sprinkled with the tin roofs of many homes that glistened in the sun, the sky was a brilliant blue with clouds that were crisp and white…and I was sitting on the back of a boda boda arms spread out as I “flew” downhills and across the beautiful countryside of Kenya. I felt so small at that moment, yet so unbelievably special. All I could do was praise God. My boda driver just laughed at me whenever I would sing pieces of songs that came to mind or when I would just laugh for no apparent reason. The countryside and the beauty I saw in it made my heart so grateful that I serve the God who created all of it.

Once we finally made it to the home we met the family, did our assessment then began our travel back. On the walk back to the main road we walked by a school and a hundred of kids poured out of their classrooms when they saw Meredith and I because they had NEVER seen a mzungu (ma-zoon-goo: white person) before (that should give you an idea of how far into the country this home was). Meredith and I shook so many kids hands. They touched my face and my hair and we just thrilled to have the opportunity to interact with a mzungu, I felt kind of like a celebrity. I kissed on little girl on the forehead and all the kids irrupted with excited/dismayed “oh’s”.

When Meredith and I finally made it back home with sunburnt arms and faces we both crashed from the long, yet incredibly fulfilling day. I went out to our gazebo area to read for a little bit and started talking with one of our interns, Ina. We were talking about our days and somehow got off on the topic of independence. I had never realized how independent I had become until I got here. Daniel pointed it out to me within the first 2 weeks but it didn’t sink in until recently. Somewhere between my last trip to Kenya and this one I became less and less dependent on God and more dependent on my own abilities and myself. Having such love and wisdom in both my immediate and church family caused me to not lean on people rather than the Lord. I didn’t realize how much I ignored my need to depend on God until Ina pointed out that she has to depend on God because she has no one else; no family members who share her beliefs and no close friends because she’s followed God’s leading moved so much. She pointed out that the rest of us grew up in Christian families and therefore, were provided with other things on which we could lean. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with leaning on people, God created us to be in relationship with one another. But I do think it’s wrong to go to people before going to God and I’ve been guilty of that multiple times in my life.

I had a plan coming to Kenya, a plan I didn’t verbally acknowledge but one that I let my heart believe in. I’ve come to the point where I feel like I’ve finally let go of that plan and can once again fully trust and depend on God’s best for me. Amazing how it took 6 weeks of being here to once again get me to that place in life, but I’m so thankful. I’ve learned the lesson that God’s ways are far better than mine multiple times in my life…well, I guess since I have to continually be taught the lesson again I haven’t actually “learned” it yet, but I’m working on it. When I release my dreams and desires to God, He comes through in ways far better than I could ask or imagine. So, here I am, an open book, waiting to see what story God wants to write.

I’m starting a craft project with some teenage girls in the coming weeks. A lady from the Canadian team that was here always buys some African looking cards and bookmarks from a shop in Kitale when she comes. The cards are unbelievably simple and can be re-created by local girls. I’m going to teach the girls how to makes the cards, Sandy (the woman in Canada) will buy the cards from the girls. The money from each card can go to funding the expenses of a trade school for the girls, thus keeping them off the streets and providing them with a life they can be proud of. In turn, Sandy gets the cards at a cheaper price and can sell them in Canada to help fund future projects she takes part in when she comes to Kenya. I’m a little nervous about the project because I’m not an art teacher. There are moments when I can be creative, but usually only when I’m inspired. However, I think this is something God wants and thus He’ll work through my weaknesses. Plus, I get to invest in the lives of a few teenage girls here, that thought alone brings a smile to my face and joy to my heart. We’ll see what God does with it.

That’s me, incredibly imperfect but wonderfully loved.

Finding My Way

This morning I woke up ridiculously early and decided to go watch the sunrise. It's was such a sweet time with the Lord. The sunrise was gorgeous. It was a cloudy morning, but right where the sun was coming up was a thin break in the clouds. So because the light rays could only break through that small opening, as the sun rose it created this beautiful orange/pink color in a complete circle all around the sky. Then as the sun continued to rise, the orange/pink color faded, but right where the sun was coming up began to glow more and became more radiant. To me that just spoke of God's love for me...it was one of those moments where I felt like the sunrise was a special moment between me and God, like He created it for me and if I focused on God I'll be able to radiate with His love. That might have been alot to get out of a sunrise, but it's true.

God revealed alot to me this morning but the main lesson was the fact that I can find freedom in Him. I had put pressure on myself when I first got here (Kenya) to be something I couldn't because I allowed myself to be trapped by the lies of Satan. But as I read my Bible this morning the word freedom just kept sticking out to me and I found confidence in the fact that not only can I find freedom in being who He created me to be, but that's what I should do. Why had I not remembered that before now? I don't know. But I realized that I don't have to change who I am because I'm in Kenya. If I want to say "hi" to people as I walk down the street, I'm should. If I want to call a cashier by his/her name as I'm being checked out at a store I should. I restricted myself to who I thought I should be in Kenya rather than who God created me to be.

I feel like when I got here, I was stripped of everything I held onto and found completeness in...everything except my relationship with Christ. The kids didn't run to me like they did in Dallas, I didn't have any tasks that I needed to take charge of and lead, I was just as new as everyone else so being hospitible was difficult... I never realized how much confidence I found in those things...I never realized how much I leaned on those things to find my self worth.

So, I'm turning over a new leaf. I'm strenghtening my relationship with God, building my friendship with Meredith, investing time in our interns and loving people. There were moments today when my heart is so full that I think I could have exploded with joy. Finding joy... no choosing decisely to be joyful through all circumstances is what I want.

I don't have to "find my way". God already laid it out for me, I just have to be sensitive to His leading and obey His commands.