...And then some you don't want

"Be careful what you wish for 'cause you just might get it all.  You just might get it all and then some you don't want"

I've not really been a big fan of the word "missionary" for myself over the past few years.  I do not feel like it appropriately describes the life that I'm living.  However, I have come to accept the fact that it is what I am by definition.  But I also know that that word conjures certain ideas and traits in peoples' minds.  Things like a perfectly balanced life...Always loving every moment of every day...building churches and schools...proselytizing...living an incredible adventure...never having a bad day...and the list goes on.

If that's the idea of what a missionary is and you don't want that idea ruined than please read no further.

Since the first time I set foot in Kenya in 2009 my deepest heart's desire was to come back and live here.  In my head I thought that it would be a breeze.  I'd have no trouble raising support and I'd be here and everything would always be happy and upbeat.  Before going any further, let me say one thing very clearly.  I love what I do.  There's no way that I can trade any of it for anything.  But...

I started noticing this when I had a short trip to the US in May.  I probably noticed it to a smaller degree while I was home raising support 8 months ago.  I went from this guy that people knew on campus at WCU to a guy who preferred to be in the background.  I still do.  I have no problem sharing myself with others but truly, I'm not the guy who wants to be in a spotlight anymore.  I tried that life and it wasn't for me.  When I left WCU it became easy to blend into the crowd more.  When I started going to Providence Church I wanted nothing to do with leadership in any way.  I was happy to do simple task like setting up chairs before a service.  Somehow, for some reason, out of the blue I was asked to lead a ministry.  I came to Kenya with a team and then came back alone a year later.  Now, I live here.   "you just might get it all and then some you don't want"...

I got everything I wanted in moving here.  And then I got some I didn't expect.  I guess I had this false concept that life here would always be easy.  But here's the honest truth.  It's not!  There are kids I see coming from horrible situations.  I give out meds on occasion.  Do you know how difficult it is to give ARV's (HIV meds) to kids that are just beginning to walk?  I see such poverty and destruction so often.  I didn't expect that for some reason.  And honestly, there are some days where I almost - almost - wish that I could just go back to the US and get a 9-5 job.  Blend back into the background.  Set up some chairs and live a quiet life that doesn't feel like it's on public display.

But that's not the life I've been given.  Another part of this sone says:

"I'm not running from.  No, I think you got me all wrong.  I don't regret this life I chose for me."

I'm not running from anything in my life.  And I certainly do not regret this life at all.  Even if there are some days where I wish I could go back to the US, I know that I can't.  I've seen and experienced a life worth living for myself.  It's hard, okay?  That's the truth.  But it's my life.  It's what I've been called to do at this season of life.  There's no way in the world that I could actually pack my stuff up and leave this place for good.  I also lived the 9-5 life for a while.  It killed me.  Every day I'd go to work and I was killing myself because it wasn't what I was created for.  Here, I get up in the morning and know that I'm where I belong.  I go to bed at night feeling fulfilled - even in the difficult situations.  I'm able to look past all of the crap that exists and see that God is good.  I see the joy in the kids eyes.  I see the hope that is here.  I see a country plagued with corruption, disease and death.  But I also see a country that is on the brink of major change.  And I am honored to be here during that time.

I'd love to blend back into the crowd sometimes.  But I also accept that my place right now is here sharing stories.  It can feel hard and demanding at times.  And there are times where I find it hard to "just be me".  It's something that I need to work harder at.  But, hey...I'm not perfect.  But I know the One who is perfect.  You see, I've realized that it's a choice.  I can face these challenges alone or I can go to God with my heart.  That's my choice.  I love what I do.  And I know that it's not me.  On my own, I'd fall every time doing this.  But I choose to lean into God during these times.

"I can't do this all on my own.  No, I know, I'm no superman"

-Scrubs 

A lifetime in 20 minutes

I haven't blogged in a while.  Partially because the internet has been slow.  Partially because I've been busy.  Partially because I haven't felt like I had anything important to write.  But if I'm truly honest, those are pretty poor excuses.  I guess a bigger truth is that I have had things to write about but I haven't made the time.  I haven't made the time because sometimes those things that might be worth writing about are hard.  I'm going to suck it up and push through a blog now anyway.

I've seen close to a dozen new kids arrive at In Step in various conditions.  Some fairly healthy, some...not so much.  I've taken a lot of kids to the clinic since I got to In Step in Oct.  I mean A LOT.  Mostly we've done Malaria tests or Typhoid tests.  I've never seen an HIV test done.  Until recently.  I've seen three in the past month.  The first was a young girl who was molested by her father.  I took her to the clinic and prayed and prayed for a negative test.  That prayer was answered; she tested negative.  A few days ago we got a call from the Children's office that there was a six month old baby boy.  Normally Jeff or Carla will pick up the new kids.  But Carla was on her way back to Kenya from the US and Jeff was on his way to pick her up at the airport.  I went with Julia, our nurse who just arrived, and Hoglah, our social worker.  We took this boy, Chris, right to the clinic and had him checked out by our doctor.  He is badly malnourished; his skin was hanging from his bones and you could see each of his ribs clearly.  Because his mother was HIV+ and had died last month we had him tested as well.  It takes longer to get a Malaria test but this...this test seemed to last forever as we watched to see if a second line would appear showing a positive result.  As I prayed for a negative result I had this overwhelming feeling of "I'm going to see a positive HIV test eventually".  After a few minutes we saw a light half line.  An inconclusive test.  This was test number two I've seen.

Test number three was last night.  We repeated the test with a kit at home.  This kit says that results are valid in 5-20 minutes.  20 minutes seemed to drag on for an entire lifetime as we watched a second line begin to faintly appear.  The next step is a new test to see if he has only the antibodies or the actual virus.  It could be that the antibodies in his blood are still from his mother's immune system.  Our hope is that because he was so badly malnourished, he may not have been breastfeeding which could mean that he will test negative for the virus.  That's our hope and prayer for Chris.

I think that of all of the things I have seen in Kenya, this is still one that bothers me to an extreme.  I do not believe that anyone at all deserves HIV.  The fact that anyone has it is devastating.  Yet it seems somehow different when it's such an innocent child that has not done anything.  You cannot point to any decisions that the child has made that have led to it.  And still, they suffer from it.  To say that it's just plain wrong is a huge understatement but I cannot find the words to really describe it.  Whatever you call it, it is heartbreaking at the very least.

Still, I stay here and chose to confront these feelings head on.  Why?  If I'm truly honest, I ask myself that same question.  Why face it?  What makes me desire to stay and see this and so many other heartbreaking issues daily?  I don't know.  I can't describe it.  But I KNOW that it's right to stay.  I've seen it and I cannot hide from it.  I've heard too many people cry out "where is the goodness of God in that?". That's a valid question.  The truth is that I don't know.  Sorry, no profound, deeply spiritual answer.  Just the truth.  I don't know.  But you know what?  It isn't my job to see that goodness right now.  My job is to simply have faith that it exists.  I may never see some of these situations working for good in my time in Kenya or in my lifetime.  But I have an unwavering faith that goodness will come from every single one of the situations.  Whether from a child with HIV, extreme abuse, molestation, abandoned, death, etc.

Still, I could have that same faith and not have to see these things every day.  So why chose it?  Maybe it's because it's become my fight.  But you don't have to come to Africa to see these things.  They exist everywhere.  I believe that we all have a fight.  This is mine.  Where is yours?  What is yours?

The reality was that it wasn't a hard decision for me to make.  Deep down in my bones, I just knew it was the right thing to do: to go for it.  - Bear Grylls

Going to a foreign land

Almost 4 years ago (4 years this July actually) I first came to kenya.  My life was definitely changed since that trip in 2009.  My eyes were opened.  Not only to the way of life in Kenya, but my eyes were opened to my own life as well.  Past hurts that I was running away from finally caught up to me in one conversation.  Suddenly, there was a choice.  As Andy Dufrense says in Shawshank Redemption, it was time to get buys living or get busy dying.  I chose to get busy living.  And my life has been changed drastically.  I came back to Kenya 15 months later already changed.  almost 11 months after that, I came back a third time to kenya.  Instead of a short trip for two weeks, I left my comfortable job and stayed for 6 months.  Six months hanging out with kids on the street.  I was busy living.  And it felt great.

Six months ago now, I came back to Kenya.  Has it really been six months already?  It sure doesn't feel that long!  Six months ago.  I came to a country that I've grown to call home.  Six months has come and gone.  It's Saturday afternoon as I sit and type this on top of the Mid-Africa Hotel in Kitale enjoying my day off.  The food at this place is not the greatest by any means.  Maybe that's why I chose to have lunch elsewhere...But the view...I love the view!  I sit here knowing that on Monday I'll be getting on a matatu driving to Nairobi to catch my midnight flight back to the US.  But this time, it's different.  I've spent enough time "testing the waters" in Kenya.  I spent the past 6 months on a trial period with In Step.  Six months later and I've made a firm commitment to being here.  It's where I belong.  It doesn't mean that I don't miss family and friends back in the US - I do miss them.  In his autobiography (which I highly suggest to anyone), Bear Grylls says, "The reality was that it wasn't a hard decision for me to make.  Deep down in my bones, I just knew that it was the right thing to do: to go for it".  I can't remember what exciting thing that he was talking about.  But that strikes home with me.  It's hard to leave people behind.  But at the end of the day, it's the right thing to do.  And I know that.  I was busy dying for too many years.  Doing things that I wasn't truly passionate about.  Now, I'm busy living.  I'm working with kids that I truly care about.  I love each and every one of the children at In Step.

Like I said, Kenya has become a home to me.  It's no longer a foreign land on the other side of the world.  It's where I live.  Sometimes I forget that.  It usually hits me on my day off.  When I get on my motorcycle and ride into town.  I catch a glimpse of myself in the side view mirror and all of a sudden remember that I live in Africa!  Heading to the US on Monday feels foreign to me.  Being back in the US for several months last year was often times difficult.  If I'm honest with myself, I'm scared!  I'm scared because I don't know that I fully "fit in" anymore.  Simple things like driving.  I'm so used to sitting on the right side of the car to drive and driving on the left of the road.  Big things like what we so often refer to as "first world problems" - Starbucks got my drink wrong.  Storm knocked the power out.  Traffic is bad.  Things like that.  Strange that as I get ready for a trip - a visit? - to the US (sounds weird to say that) I feel like I'm heading to a foreign land.

Yet, I'm excited too.  I hadn't planned on going back this soon.  I had wanted to spend a year here first. Unfortunately, due to some issues with Kenyan Immigration, I cannot get my work permit yet.  So back to the US I go for a couple of weeks.  While I hadn't planned on it, I am excited to see friends and family.  I'm excited to be able to go to my home church and here the message live rather than via podcast.  I know that it's going to be a busy week.  I know that I won't get to see everyone that I would like to see.  But there's always next time too.

Fears and excitements aside, see you soon America.

He didn't deserve to die

Wow, this one's a hard one to write...last year I wrote several blogs about a street boy named Peter Lojore.  Here're a few of the posts about him:  PETER LOJORE and the final one here: NO REGRETS.  I had hoped to one day write another blog about Peter.  I just didn't think that it would be this blog...

The short version of the story is that last December I found Peter on the streets in Kitale.  He was very badly beaten up and almost dead.  I managed to get him to the hospital where he was treated.  After a few weeks of spending time with him, I put him into a home and thought that he would do well.  Unfortunately, he lasted only 3 days before running back to the streets.  He had a very bad leg injury that became infected.  With no treatment, I knew that it would get worse.

As I went home to the States last March I got more word about Peter.  He got to the point where he was unable to walk across the street on his own.  I worried about him a lot.  When I got back to Kenya this year I so badly wanted to find him.  Some of my other friends in town said that his cast was finally taken off but he was still not doing very well.

A few hours ago I found out that Peter died on the streets a few days ago.  I don't know the details yet, but am trying to find them out.  All I know is that he died where he slept on the streets.  Peter made his choice, I get that.  Really, I do.  He had an opportunity to get off the streets.  He had a bed, food, clothing, medicine - everything he needed was given to him.  Still, he chose to throw it away for the street life.  But still, he deserved so much more than this; to die in the streets like a dog.  I can't say that I'm surprised that he died.  But that doesn't take the hurt away.  I love that kid so much.  I had really hoped that he would come around and start making some better decisions.  I had hoped to get to see him again.

I wish that there was more I could have done; I hate it that there wasn't.  I see so may kids on the streets every time I'm in town.  I know that death is waiting for them too.  Either from fights with each other or police and security or from the glue.  Peter was in his mid-twenties; that's an old age for a street boy.  And it sucks.  He was meant for so much more.  The more I think about it the more I realize I how little I know of the street culture.  I made some good friends on the streets last year and I can't stand the thought of losing them like this too.

Thoughts from Thanksgiving day

I know I'm a bit late in posting this, as Thanksgiving was last week already.  But, that's how things go.  

This year Thanksgiving was a lot different than last year.  Last year I was sitting at 40 Thieves on the beach of the Indian Ocean.  It was great!  I couldn't get Skype to work with family back home, but at least I had a decent phone connection.  This year, I couldn't even keep a phone call connected in Sibanga.  A few of us celebrated Thanksgiving at the Karibuni Lodge.  Dinner was fantastic!  The food there always is!  

But, Thanksgiving started with more of a difficult time emotionally.  I woke up in the morning and had my morning coffee and morning routine.  Around 8:00 I loaded up 4 of the kids into the van to drive up to the tai stage in the Sibanga market.  I was taking them there along with In Step's social worker because they were on their way to a medical office in Kitale to have their HIV checkup.  Each of the 4 is HIV Positive through birth/breast feeding.  These are 4 very intelligent kids.  4 kids who deserve so much better than this.  All I could think as I drove them was "this is just wrong".  There is something so wrong about the whole situation.  I know that "life isn't fair".  My dad preached that message to me most of my life.  But still, this goes somewhere beyond life not being fair.  To know of the desperate situations they have come from and to know of the horrible disease in their bodies...it's just wrong in every way.  No one deserves HIV; no one deserves HIV at all.  But to have done nothing at all and still have it...it just doesn't make sense.  

That was the morning.  In the afternoon, I was shown how to change the head dressing for Tracy.  You can read Tracy's story here http://www.rehemainstep.com/?post_type=photo-gallery&s=tracy

Tracy just returned last week from a hospital where another skin graft was done.  Still, a piece of it seems to not be taking right.  As Hoglah showed me the process and we slowly removed the wrap and bandages, I had to force back the tears.  How could any parent do this to their own child?  Again, it's just wrong.  I don't get it.  Not one bit.  It doesn't make sense to me.  How could any parent so badly burn their child and then continue to scratch the wounds open to use that child to beg for money on the streets?  I was talking to Carla about it later and she had a good answer.  She said I don't get it either.  The day I do get it is the day I've been here for too long".  What Tracy's parents did was pure evil and I pray that I never understand that level of evil.  But in the spirt of thankfulness, Tracy is a beautiful, happy little girl!  The whole time that we were with her in the medical room, she was giggling and smiling.  I cleaned and changed the dressing on Saturday again.  She was a blast to be around.  Her smile during the whole thing said that she was going to be okay.  After we were done, I picked her up and walked around with her.  She wouldn't let go of my neck.  We hummed songs and laughed.  I'm thankful that she has overcome the evil done to her.  

While these things do not make any sense at all to me, I'm thankful that I am here to be a part of the healing process for these kids.  I'm thankful that these kids here have a very bright future ahead of them.  It's a huge blessing to watch these kids grow up.  I can't wait to see them as adults.  Leaders in the community and in their jobs.  I'm thankful that what was meant for evil is in the process of being redeemed for good!  

Happy (belated) Thanksgiving!  

-Ray

The gift of touch

This week has really flown by!  I woke up this time last week after spending the first night at my new home; In Step.  It's been an incredible week too!  We got two more babies this week.  Baby Nate came early in the week.  He was no more than 1 or two weeks old when he was abandoned.  Towards the end of the week baby Ray came.  He was only a two days old when he was abandoned.  He's an adorable little guy too!  Last week our older boys also took mid-terms at a local school.  Next week is finals (crazy, but true schedule because of a teacher strike).

With 121 kids, it gets pretty crazy here sometimes.  It can be loud.  Very loud.  In fact, right now the kids are out on the veranda having church and singing songs at the top of their lungs in Swahili.  I no longer need an alarm because around 6:30 when all of the kids show up in the veranda for breakfast, I wake up.  There is rarely a time in the day where it's totally quiet when the kids are not in class. Even then, there are a bunch of babies making nosies.  Still, it's such a joy!  To hear so many happy voices and see so many giggling faces is a blessing.  Especially when you begin to know some of their stories. They have come from seemingly hopeless situations and are now in a home filled with love and hope.  Hope of a bright future.  Their pasts are in a process of being redeemed.  And that's why I can't help but smile at the noise.  Or when I see a group playing.

One of the things that I've realized this week is that I can't play with every single child all day long.  There're just too many of them. But I've realized that I can at least hold their hand as I walk by.  Or pick them up for a few moments each.  There is something so powerful in that gift of touch.  The kids long for it.  And I think that if we're honest, most of us do too.  It's wonderful to walk past a group of kids and hold them each.  It can be tiring after a dozen kids ask to be held.  But it's a joy too.  To see their smiling face is awesome.  It's as if a child walking by saying "pick me up" is really saying "will you love me".  For me, it's become important to say "yes".  Even if I can't always pick each one up, I can hold their hand, of give them  a hug.

Storms

Last week I booked a plane ticket to Kenya.  My flight was supposed to be tomorrow (Tuesday).  This past week has been absolutely crazy.  There have been so many details to work out and goodbyes to say along with packing.  I found myself getting so stressed out about everything.  I have so many more people I want to spend time with but there just enough enough time to see every single person.  By yesterday morning (Sunday) things were getting crazy as I tried to figure out rides to the airport as the hurricane was approaching.

At some point I stopped and thought about why I was getting stressed out.  I started to think about the story where Jesus calmed the sea.  One fascinating thing begins that story, and it's one that we tend to not pay enough attention to.  The story begins with Jesus telling His disciples "we're going to the other side".  Then he goes and takes a nap in the back of the boat as a storm hits.  The disciples must have also forgot that Jesus told them that they're going to the other side.  It's why they got upset with Jesus and questioned if He cared that they were drowning.  It was this moment that they woke Jesus and He calmed the sea.  And they went on to the other side.

As I thought about that, I thought to the physical storm that is currently hitting us as well as the emotional storm of everything building up.  I remembered that, like the disciples, I'm going to the other side.  I have my support in.  I have my plane ticket.  In Step is awaiting my arrival in Kenya.  I know that I'm going.  I stopped worrying and chose to no longer allow myself to be stressed out.

This was tested last night as I saw that my flight was cancelled.  Again, I know that I'm going.  Sure, it was disappointing to see my flight status as cancelled, but I knew that a new flight was a phone call away.  So, I sat down with my laptop and called Travelocity.  I waited on hold for an hour and half.  My heart sank when the representative told me that he couldn't help me.  Even though I booked through Travelocity, I had to call the airline directly to change anything.  Still, I thought, why worry?  I knew that they were rebooking everyone free of charge.  I just had to wait on hold some more.  Turned out that it was only 30 minutes this time.  About 10 minutes later, I had a new flight booked.  And with an exit row seat too. Trust me, if you're tall, you understand the HUGE blessing an exit row seat really is!

So, the new flight is Thursday, November 1st.  I am mostly finished packing; I just have the last minute things to pack, along with unpacking some clothing to wear for the extra couple of days.  Like the disciples, I am going.  Worrying and stressing will not get me there faster.  So I chose to enjoy the extra few days and what they will bring.

What storm are you facing?  Are you believing that you're going to drown or that you're going to get to the other side?  I guess it all comes down to focus.  You can focus on the bucket and try to bail out the boat, or you can look to the One who can calm the storm.  What strikes me as interesting is that the boat was still in the middle of the sea after the storm was calmed.  They were not taken out of the dangerous sea.  But they had peace as they shifted their focus.  It's still a little of a journey to get to Kenya.  There're still things that I have to do.  I still have the responsibility of getting to the airport on time and being diligent with my time.  Yet I have peace in it.  And believe me, it's a far better feeling than stress.