Friday, January 29, 2010

Life

As you may have guessed, this adjustment back to our "Canadian" lives has been more difficult than we anticipated. There is only so much you can do to prepare for the changes and then you just have to jump in and let it hit you. And we feel like we've been hit hard.

The guilt of our prosperous lifestyle and rich country threatens to overwhelm us many days. The separation from the place where we feel needed threatens to take over our emotions and cause us to feel upset, hurt, frustrated and alone. We feel alienated from this place that used to be our home; like we don’t belong anymore.

We miss Kenya. Every day. All the time.

And yet we are trying to figure out how we are supposed to adjust to this life here. How we are supposed to get “back to normal”. How to balance our two lives.

This analogy, given to us by an older, wiser and more seasoned missionary ;-) has helped us through this process:


“You come from the land of square heads and then you go and live in the land of the round heads. Over time, some of your square angles get rounded off some and you become more of an octagon head. Even though you become more rounded, though, you will still always be a bit square. But when you come back into the land of the square heads, you don't exactly fit any more either. Thus is the saga of a missionary who loves being where God had called him. Never totally square again and never totally round either, but with a broader perspective than ever.”


Enlightening, isn’t it?! It sure was for us!!

We have moved back into our own home, which has been very nice. Trevor has started a new job, working at a John Deere dealership in La Crete, fixing farm machinery. It has been a definite challenge for him, but he is very thankful to have found work. Other than this, we have been spending time with family and friends and are grateful to be able to see them so often now. Life is slowly taking on a new normal and we are slowly learning to stop fighting the changes.

You may be wondering what our plans are for the future…well here it is. We are still looking towards getting back to Kenya as soon as we can, as full-term missionaries with AIM. There are mountains of paperwork to climb first, however, and a lot of things that have to fall into place before that can happen. We’ll keep you updated on the progress of that as soon as we have more to report. For now, though, please keep praying for us in this tedious process. Our hearts can hardly wait to be back in Kenya.

Quote..

“…I became a seriously disturbed woman.

I believe God is searching for men and women who will allow Him to disturb them by making them truly see the world in which we live - so disturbed that they will be compelled to do something about what they see.

Most of us have grown up in a culture that promotes precisely the opposite approach. We refuse to talk about the painful subjects - child prostitution, poverty, injustice, ethnic hatred, environmental destruction, HIV/AIDS.

But if we’re not disturbed by the world in which we live, we will be consumed with the trivial, the insignificant, and the temporary. We will spend our days pursuing all the wrong goals, living by the wrong measurement of success, evaluating our legacy by the wrong standard…”

[Kay Warren]

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Two Worlds

Sparkly snow. Cold air. Rosy cheeks.
Mud. Garbage. Tears.

Laughter. Warm conversation. Family.
Tears. Fighting. Broken homes.

Christmas tree. Wrapped presents. Snow globes.
Crowded homes. No money. No room.

Turkey dinner. Apple cider. Full stomachs.
Ugali? Beans? Hungry bellies.

Thick snow.
Torrential rains.

Dry house.
Flooded homes.

Happiness.
Heartache.

Canada.
Mitumba.

Our Christmas.
Christmas in the slum.


Why does this picture seem so wrong? Why is this so unfair? Why are some so blessed, while others struggle for survival?

Hard questions. Hard questions that don’t have immediate answers.

Our kids suffered during the Christmas season, while we enjoyed wealth and warmth. Our kids had to deal with abuse, drunkenness and fighting, while we dealt with too many gifts and too much food.

Fair?

I don’t think so.


Think about it.

Let it bother you.

And let it change you.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

On Being Back...

How does it feel to be back?

I can’t even count the number of times we have been asked this question. How does it feel to be back?

And I can’t even count the number of times that I have not known how to answer.

I don’t know.

It is a very confusing topic to us right now. Our hearts are heavy and filled with so many contradictions. We don’t even know how we feel about anything.

But, let me backtrack a little and fill you in on the last few days or so before we left Kenya:

When I think about leaving, all that fills my head is suitcases, packing, and a very messy house. Overwhelming doesn’t even begin to describe it. Organization is not my strongpoint (well, let’s be honest, it’s not even a point at all in my life!!) and so I didn’t even know where to begin when it came to packing up our last year’s belongings. I am so thankful for Trevor, who basically saved the day. No exaggeration. I had to just leave the house a few times as my wandering from room to room forgetting what I was doing the second before wasn’t helping, and I would come home to him having done so much work and organized everything. He really did most of the work when it came to packing up our stuff, while my head and heart and emotions were a mess. He’s the best!!

Our cell group and friends had a goodbye bash for us the night before we left. It was so great!! We played games…spoons, dutch blitz, charades to name a few!!…ate so much pizza and nyama choma (bbq-d meat), prayed together, had a time of sharing, and laughed endlessly at the words they wrote on our shirts to remember them. It was also the night we got officially named! Yes, that’s right, we now have Kenyan names!! Trevor is Mutuku. It is a Kamba name, meaning “born at night”…which he wasn’t, but the name was thought of at night.. =) My name is Kerubo. It is a Kisii name, meaning “talkative, noisy”…appropriate??! =)
We already miss all these friends so dearly and think about constantly. We love them so much.



Add many last minute shopping trips, meetings and goodbyes with friends, more packing, errands, more market trips, more goodbyes, tears and more tears, and you have a bit of a picture of our last week in Kenya. Ugh.
Many of our friends took us to the airport on Wednesday night. Have I mentioned how great our friends are??!! For real. They helped us with all our things and we said goodbye to them as we waited in line at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport. Saks, Dann, Benjy, Gerald, Mwendwa (Franklin!), Stella, Mimie, and James…thank you SO MUCH. You blessed us more than I can say.

Now we know that when the airport’s runway lights aren’t working, that means that there will be definite delays! Haha. We waited at JKIA for about six hours until they had that fixed, so instead of the plane leaving at 11:30 pm, it left at about 4:30 am. We also know that cold hard airport floors shouldn’t be conducive to sleeping, but when you are emotionally exhausted and have not slept for the past few weeks, the cold, hard airport floor can feel like a nice comfy bed and you may have to be poked and pinched to be woken up when the wait is over!! =)
We slept so much of the way home…if felt like any time we sat for any length of time, both of us would instantly fall asleep. Our travels home felt so short, which was a blessing.

Trevor’s parents, and his brother Ryan were at the airport in Edmonton, waiting eagerly for us to arrive. They came equipped with our winter coats for the cold weather! It was really nice to see them, although the weather felt rather shocking. Temperatures of -40 Celsius, when having just come from +30 Celsius, is not very comfortable!!! But we are surviving…

And now. We left Kenya twelve days ago. And it feels like twelve weeks. Maybe even twelve months. Our hearts are longing for Kenya. Aching. Yesterday I said to Trevor, “Today I can’t think about Kenya. Not at all. It just hurts too much.” Physically hurts. There is no doubt that we left our hearts in Kenya. And that it feels so confusing to be here, in Canada.

So how does it feel?

How does it feel to be back?

It’s hard right now. While we have loved reuniting with our loved ones, visiting, spending time together, it has been bittersweet. I have been told that this is normal to feel this way, and I find some comfort in that. To know that these feelings are normal, and even expected. To know that when we can’t even describe how we are feeling and what our hearts are going through, that that is ok. To have that permission to feel a little confused as we find our way into our new normal. That it is normal to bump into a few walls, fall down a few times (or many times), hit a few obstacles as we find our footing.

There is a definite positive side to being in Canada right now though. It’s the fact that we are home with our families for Christmas, which is such a blessing! It has helped with the transition back into this way of life, and we are thankful that we get to be here during this season.

So. That is how we feel. That is where our hearts are at. We know that God has much to teach us as we go through this time, through this season, through these struggles. He is in control. {and we are thankful that He is!!}





For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die;

a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.

{Ecclesiastes 3:1-8}

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

In the Meantime...

Until I process my thoughts enough to write another blog about how we're doing now that we're back in Canada, enjoy a short video clip featuring our kids from Mitumba!!

I taught the Bible class for Classes 4-7 every Wednesday, and here is the class singing "That's Why I Praise You"...

How I miss them...

(more updates about our life to come soon...I promise.)

Saturday, December 5, 2009

Goodbye with a Promise

Yesterday was a heartbreaking day. We had to finally say goodbye to our Mitumba youth. It was an evening filled with tears, promises to pray for one another, cries to come back soon, and many, many hugs. It was horrible. It left us physically and emotionally spent, wondering if we had any tears left to cry, and questioning our sanity in leaving this place that we love.


God uses many things to encourage us, though, and one of those things was the story you are about to read below. It was written yesterday by a dear friend of ours, specifically for us. Please read it.

Goodbye. This has got to be the rudest oxymoron in the history of ironies. We do well with good-mornings, good-afternoons, good-evenings...but goodbyes? What kind of wicked word-guru invented that word? What’s so good about saying bye? “Good-riddance” is a more appropriate term when the world is better off when the one leaving leaves. But what if you don’t want them to leave; and they too don’t want to leave, yet circumstances (read “life”) demand their departure?

He looks at the confused faces around him, shadows of despair clouding each face in the room, and his heart begins to feel like lead. He doesn’t know what else to add, they don't understand the words he speaks. Still, they fix their eyes on him, questioning eyes, hungry gazes, expectant faces.... sadly realizing that the worst is about to happen. The one that they had been living for was leaving. Three years is enough time to cement stubborn bonds. One by one, he looks at their scared faces, huddled together like wet kittens, listening to his words of encouragement, his parting words; and as his glance falls on each face, floodgates of memories fill up his mind, welling up his eyes, and drowning his heart with grief...
He turns to see rugged Peter clenching his fists and biting his lips, determined not to believe any word he says. He looks at Peter and a tear streaks a cold-wet-road down his cheek. He remembers the first day he met him...

It was at the Galilean sea-shore; young Simon-Peter was a resourceful, hardworking fisherman and husband. He remembers how the first thing he noticed about Peter was his determined face and his white-knuckled hands hoisting up the sail alongside his more quiet and reserved brother Andrew. He remembers that moment so vividly for it was these features; this innocent bravery, this rugged loyalty and this unrestrained passion that led Him to tell him the words, "Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men"(Matt 4:19)

Now, he was going to leave behind the one who left behind everything for his ministry. He was going to leave poor Peter all alone. It breaks His heart because he knows that an unrestrained Peter is bound to make so many "careless" mistakes. He wishes he could stay forever on earth, if only to hold Peter's leash and save his life.

Then he turns to scan the rest of the faces in the room, there’s no rest in those faces. He notices that sweet and innocent John is not leaning against him today. He has moved away tonight, it's almost like, well, like he feels he should learn to keep his distance early, because soon, their best friend and teacher will no longer be with them. John is a sentimental guy, and so he does what comes easy for him, he lets his tears flow. Several times before, he's cried upon Christ's shoulders, most recently, beside his mother at Calvary as Christ hung dead, but tonight marks the first of many nights when his tears will be soaked by the cold-hungry-bare-earth. Jesus can't bear to look anymore into the hunched form of his beloved disciple.

So he moves on to the other faces, scared faces, doubting faces, confused faces, shaken faces, discouraged faces, shattered faces... He looks at them and his heart is moved to leave them a promise, one that will sustain them until his awaited return

"I will send you a helper," he chokes out these six words as an introduction to the eternal promise.




John 14:16-19 ; "And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another advocate to help you and be with you forever—the Spirit of truth. The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him, for he lives with you and will be in you. I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you. Before long, the world will not see me anymore, but you will see me. Because I live, you also will live."



Andrea, Trevor; Let these words of Christ comfort you as you leave for home next week, but above this, let them comfort everyone you leave behind.. that BECAUSE ANDREA & TREVOR LIVE, WE TOO CAN LIVE. Because Andrea & Trevor continue to pray, we too can be comforted. Because Andrea & Trevor continue to minister to their God, He will continue to minister to us. Don't cry, and even if you have to leave. Don't stop living. GOD BLESS YOU.

[ Trevor and Andrea Wolfe are African Inland Missionaries and friends who've been staying in Kenya for a little over a year and serving in the Slums of mitumba- Nairobi west among other places. They've been my friends for over 2 months now and members of our BS. Let's pray for them as they leave for Home: Canada ]

Cornell Ngare - 2009

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

...


Saying goodbye really hurts. It's awful. It's painful. It's heartwrenching.

And yet the pain of saying goodbye means something. It means that there is something and someone to say goodbye to. It means that hearts have connected. It means relationships have been built. It means that we have allowed Kenya to take hold of our hearts.

So in theory, this is a good thing. The pain is a positive sign. But it hurts. A lot.

I'm finding myself withdrawing these days. Letting go already. Not letting myself get hurt. Not allowing myself to care or to cry. Not letting my heart feel what it needs to feel. Not allowing the pain to have any part in this process.

I know that we need to go through the full process of grieving and letting go. We need to feel. We need to hurt. We need to cry. We need to mourn. We need to let go.

We have eight short days left in Africa. Please pray for us. Please pray for our hearts.

Many things have been happening here lately and I will try to update you on those as soon as I can. But i just needed to let you know where we are at with all of this letting go business.

And if you were to ask any of our friends here what we all really think of us leaving Kenya?? The answer you would get is "SHOBOSH!!"

I will explain that one in person for you when we see you...!! :)