Day 50: Home

At this point, as we flew home and crossed numerous time zones, time really started to blur. Once we landed in Dubai, it was time for me to say goodbye to my closest friend on the GP, Dylan Hillman. Dylan's dad worked in the Middle East, and he was actually going to meet Dylan in Dubai Airport and then go on vacation in Europe together. It was tough to part from someone I really counted as a brother, but alas, that's life and we all must move on. After I said goodbye to Dylan, the team proceeded to hang out in Dubai Airport for a little while. Now, Dubai Airport is pretty darn nice place. There's basically a mall in what is already one of the nicest airports I've ever seen. You can imagine what was what like for the GP team to experience things like air conditioning, squeaky clean public restrooms, marble floors, opulent interiors, etc, etc.

Well pretty soon, we were in the air again on our way to New York. Even though it was a 12+ hour flight, before I knew it, we were in American airspace and in another blink of an eye, we had landed at JFK Airport. Holy crap! I was back in America. After 7 weeks, I had made it back...my phone had reception, all the signs were in English, I called my family, etc., etc.

But now was the time for goodbye. After the team made it through customs, we all gathered in the hallway, and began to say our goodbyes but for real this time. Each of us had different flights back home, so as people left one by one, I knew the time was coming for me to go to my own terminal where I would await my flight to Los Angeles. Let me tell you that it was not easy waiting by myself; I felt so lonely. This was really the first time I was truly by myself for the last 7 weeks, so I was relieved when some of my teammates called me to hang out for a little while one last time.

From New York to LA was another 5 hour flight. Suffice it to say, I was pretty anxious to be home by this point and was pretty tired of flying by this point. When I finally landed, I was ready to see my family. Sure enough, there at the arrivals terminal was my family waiting for me.

One hour later, I was back in my own room. I was home. Thank You God.

I feel so blessed that one year later almost to the day since I left for New York to begin my missions trip, I get to finish this blog. Even more importantly, however, I now get to see my sister off tomorrow as she leaves for the InterVarsity Global Project 2011. Godspeed Denise. I'm excited for what God has in store for you. I'll see you in 7 weeks.

And in a few more days, Dylan will be in LA to visit for a few days. Full circle indeed. Once again, thank You God. I will always testify of Your love, grace, and goodness.

Denise, I'll be there when you return

Day 49: Goodbye

This was it. Today, we were leaving Kenya to go back home. We all knew this day was coming, but I was still in no way prepared for it. This day was an absolute whirlwind; so much happened that I can't even begin to adequately match words with events and emotions.

I'll start off by recounting that the GP team stopped by downtown Nairobi one last time to use up the rest of our shillings on souvenirs and other random crap to bring back stateside. After that, it was time to go to the airport. At last, it was time to do what is all at once obvious, saddening, and necessary on a missions trip: leave and go home.

At the airport parking lot, we got our chances to say goodbye to our GP directors (Brian and Debbie who would be staying in Kenya a bit longer), and our Kenyan teammates and friends (George, Catherine, Hellen, and "Nams"). This was one of the hardest parts of the entire missions trip, because what's difficult is not leaving the country itself but parting from those you count as friends. I love my Kenyan friends so of course it was hard saying goodbye to someone you honestly might never see again until heaven. I know that sounds super lame, but isn't that what heaven sort of is: eternal unity with God and loved ones? To George, Catherine, Hellen, and Nams: I still think about you to this day. I'm not even lying when I say that each of you made a difference in my life this past year. I love you all and I'll make sure to look for y'all when when we see each other in heaven one day, if not sooner on this earth.

When we finally separated from the Lee family and our Kenyan friends (which you can bet took a long time), we entered the bustling airport and eventually proceeded to our gate. Let me tell you what a surreal experience it is to be in an airport in a foreign country after you've been on a missions trip for 7 weeks. I felt like I was in a dream: there was so much commotion and people of all different nationalities. After sitting around in a hot, stuffy gate for a while, we finally boarded the plane that would take us back to Dubai.

Around 11:40 PM, our plane took off. I felt such a heaviness in my heart knowing I had just left the place where God had begun a good work in me. Not only had I experienced so much redemption and transformation, but I was even blessed with things I didn't expect. Things like community and friendship.

But now came the hard part. In some ways, it's easy to "be Christian" and "follow Jesus unconditionally" on a missions trip. I'd bet that 96.8% of Christians could go on a missions trip and say that they experienced God, underwent transformation, and felt a greater burden for the world during their time in a third-world country. What's more difficult is actually going home and integrating that transformation into a life that begs to be comfortable, attain riches, and not be challenged by Jesus. In the end, it's not what you experience on a missions trip that's most important, but it's the change you bring into your life post-missions that's critical.

I sometimes jokingly say that a missions trip is like a NFL draft: you wait 3 years before you judge the "success" (obviously, success take many and any forms) of a missions trip or draft. In the same way you can't tell if a college player you drafted will be an elite player right away, you can't tell what transformation a person who's gone on a missions trip has experienced until you let him/her go home and apply that change.

That's what I was afraid of as I sat in my seat in that airplane leaving Kenya: that all I had experienced would be all for naught unless I let my experiences change the way I lived in the U.S. One year later, I hope that my life has provided evidence of God's work, redemption, and transformation. If not, then go ahead and call me out, and treat me like JaMarcus Russell and call me a "bust."

Brian Lee-A man of God. Enough said.

George Omollo-Like Moses in that he would won't go anywhere unless he knows God's going with him
Catherine Karanja-A strong woman who's wise and mature beyond her years

Hellen Nailantei-A disciple of Jesus whose passion and convictions really inspire me

Day 48: Last Full Day

We all woke up pretty late today since we got into Watakatifu Wote Senta so late. Well, this was our last full day in Kenya. Each of us had to write essays about our experiences in Kenya, so a bunch of us spent the day working on them. I finished a bit early so I enjoyed a nice walk with my small group leader, Ryan.

Overall, I just spent the day talking with my teammates, knowing that I would never see many of them again and consequently valuing every minute I spent with them. That night, we had our last dinner in Kenya. It was really bittersweet enjoying an authentic Kenyan meal for the last time with friends. Later on, the Karau family came by to collect some donations and to see the team one last time. We had one last time of worship as a team and by the time it ended, everyone just sat there not knowing what to do. I think everyone was just trying to take in the moment, realizing that as soon as we stood up, we would never all be in the same place at one time like this anymore. We all started hugging each other and saying our goodbyes even though it wasn't technically good-bye yet. At the same time, we all knew that in the impending craziness of going home the next day, we might not be able to say proper good-byes.

I went to sleep that night not really wanting to fall asleep. I knew that when I woke up, I would be preparing to leave Kenya. It was exciting to come home, but at the same time, I was invested spiritually and emotionally in Kenya. But alas, all things must come to an end and life must move on. So I eventually fell asleep realizing that the next time I was going to fall asleep in a bed, it would be my own in good ol' Southern California.

Day 47: Coming Full Circle

So for those of you who don't know me well, you should know that I always talk about coming full circle. I absolutely love the concept of returning to a point in space or time with a different and/or maturer perspective. Or as Sarah Lee once told me, it's not really coming full circle, but coming full "helix", because in making a full revolution, you now have a higher vantage point. I know, pretty deep right?

During the previous night, our team had an affirmation circle during which we went around the circle to affirm each and every single person on our team. It was a really blessed time when we could really encourage and appreciate it each other. Needless to say, we could all feel the GP quickly coming to an end.

The next morning, we had a sunrise worship service during which many of us woke up early to see the sun rise over the Indian Ocean and worship God for the last time in Mombasa. We were going to be returning to Nairobi that day, and so this was the last day we could relax on the beaches of Mombasa.

Around 5 PM, we boarded the charter bus that would take us back to Nairobi. After stopping for dinner, we began the overnight commute. Our destination? None other than the place we started the missions trip in: Watakatifu Wote Senta (WWS)! The last time we were here as a team, we were all about to depart on our ministry assignments. I remember having feelings of anxiety, fear, and anticipation of what God would do. I knew that God had many things in store for me, but these "things" were all nebulous; I really had no idea what God had in mind.

We arrived at WWS around 4 or so in the morning. I hadn't slept well on the bus so I just plopped down on a bed and slept into the next morning. But I felt really happy knowing that I had come full circle. In returning to WWS, I could now concretely testify of what God had done in and through me for the past 5-6 weeks. The things God had showed me in my time away from WWS were no longer general, nebulous things, but I could provide specific examples of what God had taught me and how He had transformed me.

Coming full circle really allows me to see how I have changed for better or worse. Physically, WWS was just a place I started and ended the GP at, but mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, I like to think that I had changed a bit. I like to think that I returned to WWS more in love with God and His people

Epic sunrise over the Indian Ocean

Some of the men of the Global Project

Day 46: Cards

During today's debriefing session, Brian talked with the team about investment. Brian went through a manuscript study on Matthew 25 which is the Parable of the Talents. I would really suggest reading the parable, but if you're lazy like me, the gist of the parable is that we make the most of what we have been entrusted with.

Brian really challenged us to think about the cards each of us has been dealt. By cards, Brian was referring to all the gifts, strengths, weaknesses, flaws, circumstances, etc. that each of us has. He then asked the critical question: Does each of us make the most of our cards, whether good or bad? Some of us have better cards than others and some don't, but we have no control over what we are given in life. We do, however, have control over how we play our cards. That sounds completely obvious, but we American Christians often don't live life as if we understand that statement. We know that our incomes and standard of life are higher than most other people's in the world, but we are only aware of what we don't have or of the cards others have. We indeed have been dealt good hands, but we're not satisfied with having a straight or flush; we want the full-houses and straight-flushes. Heck, if we had it our way, we'd all want royal flushes. Well, consider that the majority of the world plays with a pair...at best. Or sometimes, we allow Satan to corrupt our "good cards"-our strengths, talents, and gifts-such that we don't bless people with them and/or use them selfishly.

When it comes down to it, we American Christians rarely use the cards we have been dealt to bless God and others. If I died today, I'm not sure God would say to me, "Well done, good and faithful servant." What would it look like for me to use all my cards, good and bad, and give them to God for nonstop, passionate kingdom-work?

I know this post sounds ultra-preachy, but what would it look like for us to make the most of what we have been entrusted with? At the end of the day, when I die, I'd sure like to hear God say, "Well done, good and faithful servant." Or considering the analogies to cards, I'd also be okay with hearing, "Well played, sir, well played."

Day 45: Transcendence

I firmly believe that there are transcendent moments in our lives when we really connect with God. As a Christian who's been going to church since day 1, I know all of the "churchy, Christian-ese" tag-lines. You could ask me about God's love, grace, justification by faith, sanctification, etc. and I'd probably be able to give you an sensible response. It's unfortunate that the Christian faith is often reduced to a few cute, trite lines. But then, there are those circumstances in life when the principles that are so familiar to us become real. There are those moments when God's power and work in our lives transcends our sin and apathy.

On day 45, I remember sitting on a bench overlooking the Indian Ocean and reflecting on the GP. I wrote in my journal: "Wow, thank You God." Now, don't get me wrong: I thank God everyday. Oftentimes, it's just a routine part of my prayers, but this time, as I looked toward the horizon, I truly meant my thanks to God. It was one of those moments that I could just bask in God's presence and recognize all He had done in my life. I knew that going forward, as I was getting ready to go home and prepare for my senior year of college, there would be challenges and trials. I just knew, however, that God would be at the center of my life, working in obvious and hidden ways.

I began to think about the future and about what I wanted to do with my life. If anything, the GP only made going into my final year of college more difficult, because now I really didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. I joked with Brian that I wish God would just give me a giant signpost telling me what to do. He told me that as our own hearts and desires align more and more with God's heart and will, some things become clearer to us. It's not that we get signs, but certain paths and choices become less appealing and others more so.

Today in the present, I realize that these moments of transcendence are few and far between. I am now done with my education, came back from my last InterVarsity chapter camp, and probably won't see many of my college friends in a long time. I'm going through yet another transition phase in life, but I know how I want to live. For me, when it comes down to it, I just want to live faithfully and humbly in the small things. I know there will be powerful moments when God will be explicit in my life, but for the other 99% of my life, I just want to do my best to be a man after God's own heart. There should be no principle in my life more transcendent than that one. I think I'll be alright if I can do just that.

Day 44: Why Kenya Was For Me

The eastern coast of Kenya at Mombasa

One of the first items of business Brian began our debriefing with was asking the entire GP team to explain "why Kenya was for me." So each of us stood up one by one and started our answers with some variation of: "The Kenya GP was all about me, because..." One of the biggest realizations I had on the trip was that Kenya was all about me, because really, it's not all about me. Amidst my selfish ambition and self-centeredness, there's not very much room left in my heart for me to love God or others. During IV's Chapter Camp of that year, one of the speakers said that true love requires sacrifice. I think I began to understand that statement during my time in Kenya. I've always said that anything that is worthwhile requires sacrifice, but I don't think I've ever really lived out that cute, trite little saying. If there's one thing that God instilled in me last summer, it's that true love really does require uncomfortable amounts of effort, tears, and sacrifice. If there's one thing I'm normally terrible at, it's giving up my own time and energy for the sake of others. Last summer, God really challenged me to think about ways in which I could make sacrifices for others and Him, thereby loving.

Later that day, Brian described in detail our reentry into the United States. He gave a chilling picture of what it would be like for each of us to end up in our airport terminals by ourselves waiting for our respective flights back home, to land back in our home cities, to see our loved ones waiting for us at the airport, to finally arrive back in our homes after 7 weeks. Of course, being a forward thinker, I had thought of there things before, but hearing Brian verbalize the future like that really made me both dread and look forward to going home.

I realized in that moment that returning home after a missions trip is probably one of the most difficult aspects of the trip. True transformation occurs once we return home and actually integrate our experiences into the way we each live our lives. In some ways, being spiritual and seeking God is almost easier on missions than at home. Here in Kenya, I'm always having serious conversations about God, culture, and what being a disciple looking like. Back home, I'm always having not-so-serious conversations about sports, girls, school, and food.

The challenge that lay ahead was how to continually seek God first in a culture where that sort of mentality doesn't exist. I know what general direction I want to go in life, but many things I experience in the America want me to go in an entirely different direction.

Day 43: Locomotion

I woke up at 3:30 AM when our train finally started moving. We had been delayed about 8 hours, but at least we were finally heading to Mombasa. I promptly fell right back to sleep and woke up in the morning to the sound of a bell signalling breakfast.

I was one week from being home in the United States. I had already been in Kenya for 6 weeks. There wasn't even more "official" ministry for our team to do; we were going to debrief, meaning we would be preparing for reentry into the U.S. and getting ready to integrate the transformation we had experienced with our normal lives.

So I being the introvert I am, I found an empty compartment in the train and spent time just looking out at the landscape rushing by and reflecting on the trip. It was really hot on the train and so I definitely found myself either feeling really tired or just sitting there thinking. I also spent a good amount of time just talking to Mike Misson, whom I had recently gotten to know pretty well.

We finally arrived in Mombasa around 6-6:30 that day. We were all tired from being confined inside a hot, stuffy train for so many hours. Imagine our joy at seeing an air-conditioned charter bus as our mode of transportation to the place we would be staying at. It turns out the place we were going to stay at was just a few hundred feet from the Indian Ocean. We couldn't really see the ocean that night, but we definitely could feel the sense of wonder just being right next to the Indian Ocean. There's actually a bunch of crazy things that happened this night, but the stories are too long and/or not exactly fit for this blog, so ask me about them if you remember.

Here began the beginning of the end of the GP. We were officially in the debriefing phase of our missions trip. It was time to get ready to go home.

My small group leader, Ryan Davenport, and I looking through our debriefing papers on the train. It was freaking hot on that thing.

Day 42: Stationary

Today was our last morning in Nairobi. We would be leaving Little Sisters' soon to begin the debriefing portion of the GP in Mombasa, which is located on the eastern coast of Kenya. Before we left Nairobi, we visited the AIM (I think it means African Inland Missions but don't quote me on that) Hangar where we learned more about missions in Africa (obviously). More specifically, we got to learn more about missions in more isolated regions of Africa. We got to see some of the small aircraft that missionaries take to get to the middle of no where. There are a lot of logistics required to send missionaries all over central Africa and we got to meet some of the people working in the hangar to make all the missions possible. I even met a guy who graduated from UCSD who came to Kenya with his family to help serve.

It's time like this when I really think about whether I could ever be a full-fledged missionary. During some moments (like during a missions trip or an IV conference for college seniors), I really think that I could do full time ministry and even possibly become a missionary one day. On most other days, I just want to live the standard American life, serve at a church, and otherwise just live pretty comfortably. Part of me realizes that it's worthwhile to live life completely for God while the other just wants to...well, do what I want. Anyway, I've gone on enough of a tangent, but when all is said and done, I've just got to live faithfully in the little things. Hopefully, when the big decisions come around, I will have put myself in a place to make the wisest decision.

We later arrived at Nairobi Railway Station, because as it turned out, we were going to be taking a train to Mombasa! My memory is a little fuzzy, but I think that we were originally supposed to leave around 7 PM and that it would take about 15 hours to get to Mombasa. Anyway, as fate would have it, the train arrived decently on time, but an accident occurred somewhere else on the railroad track. So by the time this day ended, we were still at the Nairobi station, either sitting around in our compartment or taking walks along the station. In fact, the train still hadn't moved by the time I fell asleep in my compartment.

The AIM hangar

Inside the hangar

Dylan and I finding ways to kill time
Nairobi Railway Station

The Hogwarts Express

Day 41: Thika Prison

Today, Nita, the woman who showed us around some Hindu temples, invited the GP team to help her serve at Thika Prison. As I mentioned before, Nita is an extraordinarily strong-willed woman who serves God by serving those who dwell in Kenyan prisons. She routinely visits various prisons in Kenya meeting prisoners and spreading the Word of God. When we arrived at the prison, we were split into 2 pre-determined teams: one of which would minister to the male prisoners and the other which would minister to the female prisoners.

I was part of the first team that would meet the male prisoners. The guards counted us off and then let us enter into an enormous courtyard where there were hundreds of prisoners sitting there looking at us. Nita had arranged for us to basically conduct a little bit of a church service in the prison. We started off with Rich giving his testimony to the prisoners, and after that, John gave a sermon on Hebrews. It was pretty cool, because initially, Rich and John were just projecting with their voices in English, but eventually, one of the prisoners offered to translate what they were saying into Swahili. Once John finished, he gave an alter call, and my teammates and I watched in amazement as hundreds of men raised their hands and stood up. Nathan then led the entire prison in a time of worship during which GP team and Kenyan prisoners sang songs to worship God together. We even sang "Oh How He Loves Us" in both English and Swahili together. It was an extremely humbling moment for me to watch. During the whole time, I didn't feel fear about being in the presence of prisoners, but I think that God really instilled in the hearts of us in the GP team that He loves these men just like He loves us. It didn't matter whether we were prisoners or students, Kenyan or American, young or old, He still loved us all and forgives us all of our sin. I don't know if all the men who stood up during the alter call understood what they were doing or if they were genuine, but regardless, I felt very humbled to be there to watch God work in that prison.

After the service, we went to another section of the prison where we passed out soap and toilet paper to men who had been recently convicted. As I passed out the items to the men and said "God bless you", many of them looked at me, smiled, and said, "Thank you." As I left the prison, I couldn't help but think that Nita and her colleague, Chaplain John, had an amazing ministry serving prisoners. It's always so inspiring for me to see people live out what is exactly written in the Bible. We Americans find so many ways to say "This is really what Jesus really meant..." or "This is how this passage can be applied in modern times..." or "Jesus didn't mean to literally..." that it's absolutely mind-boggling and humbling to witness people who just straight up follow what Jesus said. Would that I could do the same.

Day 40: Complete and Utter Brokenness: Part II

Later on in the day, the team took a visit to the local FOCUS Centre. FOCUS is short for Fellowship of Christian Unions, which is basically the national college fellowship of Kenya. Think the InterVarsity or AACF or Campus Crusade of Kenya. We met some of the staff of FOCUS and took some time getting to know what it's like to run numerous fellowships across an entire country.

That night, after our team time, I retreated to an empty hall to be by myself. For those of you who don't know me very well, I am a very critical, cynical, and angry person. This just happened to be one of those days when my sin was too much for me to bear. As I listened to my teammates share, sing worship songs, etc., my prideful heart was filled with anger towards them as I internally criticized what I perceived as wrong motivations and intentions. I almost felt like crying or punching a wall, because what kind of person deals with so much sin on a missions team as he's supposed to be worshiping God? I couldn't help but feel like the crappiest person in the room, and let me tell you what a horrible feeling that is. Some of you may think that I made a big deal out of a few stray thoughts, but my anger, bitterness, and resentment have been struggles I have had for years. So trust me when I say that this night was particularly difficult for me to handle my sin.

Missions trips aren't some idyllic wonderland where everyone is just straight up holy and righteous all of a sudden. Missions are just another place and circumstance where our insecurities manifest themselves in new ways, where Satan uses old and new tactics to own our hearts, and where we fail miserably. Thankfully, God's grace still covers all of these mistakes-even and especially while on missions.

After I spent some time praying, I found the guy I trusted most on the trip, Dylan, and talked to him about my struggles. It just felt so redeeming for me to be able to confess myself to my friend. I didn't necessarily go to sleep that night feeling all rosy and good about myself, but I did go to sleep realizing that it takes a particularly big God to be able to love EVERY SINGLE person in the world and EVERY SINGLE person's EVERY sin and struggle. So thank you God for loving me despite my sin. Whenever I fail-even on a missions trip-I know your grace and love cover me.

My place of solitude that night

Day 40: Complete and Utter Brokenness: Part I

The title of this post represents the theme of this day.

In the morning, we headed to the slums of Huruma to help serve at Mother Theresa's Orphanage. Huruma was actually the ministry site for 4 members of our GP team, and so they would actually be revisiting the place they had served and given their hearts for 3 weeks. Most of us served in the disabled children's ward. Needless to say, it was pretty heart-wrenching to see so many children with physical and mental disabilities. And the kids we saw were the lucky ones. They were the ones who were receiving care and attention from the people serving at the orphanage. I remember Kennedy who had problems breathing, because there was so much mucous in his nose and mouth as he laid down. I remember Sacramento who could barely eat food as I tried to help feed him. The main doctor there, Doctor Timothy, is an amazing dude, because he is constantly caring and providing for these children. It's tough to realize that these kids will most likely never be physically or mentally whole. They'll only ever be healed and wholly complete in heaven.

Later on, we were introduced to Viona who is confined to a special chair. It turns out that a GP member from the previous year who had served in Huruma actually raised money upon returning to the U.S. to buy Viona a specially designed wheelchair. It was an incredibly powerful moment as Dr. Timothy placed Viona in her new chair. We the GP team later learned that Viona has since gone home to heaven. I can only smile as I imagine her with her completely whole body and chilling with our Lord Jesus.

I take my physical wholeness for granted every single day of my life. Sure, I'm not 6'2" with mindblowing athleticism and a silky-smooth jumpshot, but I can speak my mind, move without handicap, and go wherever I want. It takes days like this one to realize how little it takes for a life to be turned upside down. How different would each of these kids' lives be if they weren't physically or mentally disabled? This question sounds so utterly stupid, but when I consider how these kids will always be confined to beds and never able to care for themselves, I'm heartbroken.

Physical brokenness is just one thing I learned on this day. As I would soon learn, there is so much brokenness beyond what just affects the body.

The GP team with Viona in the center

Day 39: Free Day

I'm about to graduate from college in a few hours, but before I do so, let's take some time to remember the Kenya GP...

The majority of the team woke up early today to go on a safari. Having had a terrible experience the last time I went on safari, I decided to not go and so I had a free day to do whatever I wanted. I spent the early part of the day journaling and reflecting. I thought about how the GP was coming to an end, and how I had to let go of the things that were beginning to distract me from focusing on the things at hand. I thought about my Kenyan teammates and the extraordinary faiths they demonstrated to me. They are such brave people who aren't afraid to share their convictions. Whenever I talk with them about the future, they always say something along the lines of: "I have faith that God will..." I rarely hear people back in the states say something as simple as that when they're worried or anxious.

Later on in the day, a few of us made the trek to Nairobi to get some pizza (yes, there's pizza in Kenya) and to check out another Massai market. It was just a really chill day to enjoy each other's company. By the time we returned, our teammates had already come back from the safari, and were already sharing stories about seeing leopards and other cool sites.

At the end of the day, I spent some more time by myself reflecting. So I'm one of those guys who can really overthink a lot about things. One of my main struggles at this point in the GP was concentrating on what God had to show me instead of dwelling on things that may or may not happen. One part of me wants to be singular with God's will, but the other just want follow my own desires. I know I'm being super vague, but trust me when I say that while I wanted to serve God wholeheartedly, I always find a way to become distracted from the mission at hand.

The same struggle applies even now as I'm getting set to graduate...

Those of us who went to Nairobi

Day 38: Islam

Like a few days ago when we were taught about Hinduism, today we learned about Islam. Some of today's events are supposed to be "GP secrets" so I won't say anything I'm not supposed to. That being said, the GP team was introduced to Jared, a Kenyan man who ministers to people of Islamic faith. Jared's an impressive fellow, because he knows a lot-and I mean A LOT-about Islam, the Qur'an, and the specifics about the Islam faith. Later on in the day, Jared took us to the city of Thika where there's a mosque. To be honest, I had a really hard time understanding what our guide was saying about the mosque and Islam, so I sort of dozed off during his talk, but overall, I really enjoyed learning about Islam. I think today really challenged me in knowing my own faith better and also being able to have authentic relationships with people of other faiths. When it comes down to reaching out to people who may not share my faith, it's not about who can argue better or who has the more logical argument, it's about having a sustained relationship based in love, friendship, and mutual respect.

I'll finish this short post with this: Jared taught me a lot today about myself, how difficult it is for me to love, and how much further my heart has to change.

Day 37: Mavuno Church

Today was a Sunday and so of course we went to church. This day marked the 5-week marker; Brian informed us that we would actually only be Kenya for another 12 days and would be home before we knew it. Today, Brian brought the GP team to Mavuno Church, an urban church that was founded by Oscar Muriu, one of the speakers at Urbana 2009. Most of us on the GP team had spent the last three Sundays serving in rural churches, so many of us were interested in seeing what a church in Nairobi would be like. We were pretty surprised. The church was set up in a large tent that probably fit a good thousand or so people. They had a enormous stage, stage lights, crazy sound system, DVDs for visitors, etc. They had a worship song about soccer, and a sermon about witchcraft, illusions, and good versus evil. And I kid you not: they even showed a trailer of the 7th Harry Potter movie.

Maybe it's because I was raised in a Baptist church or had just spent the last three Sundays in Weru, but I walked out feeling like I had just been to some sort of concert or entertainment event. I wanted to talk to someone about what the heck just happened in that service, but Brian must have read my mind, because he explained to us that we shouldn't be critics of the church. He told us that the church reaches out to the residents of Nairobi in the best way it can. It's not right or wrong, but just different.

Later on, we went to a Massai market to do some souvenir shopping. At last, we could put our bartering skills to the test. It was fun afternoon where we could just have fun, watch other tourists shell our ridiculous amounts of shillings for stuff, and see how much we could lowball people to get the best prices. I spent the afternoon hanging with Mike, one of my teammates from Michigan, and getting to know him better. I also spent the afternoon laughing at him whenever the Kenyan merchants asked if he was Pakistani or Indian (he's half white and half Chinese).

I think I realized that at this point in the missions trip, there wasn't much more time to let God reveal what He wanted to show me. Part of me just wanted to go home, but the other part just wanted to serve God wholeheartedly. I was in part distracted by thoughts of seeing friends and family again while the other part of me was already planning how to integrate what I had learned in Kenya into my American life. I just prayed to God that night that I would remain in the present and that my eyes and ears would be seeing and hearing what God still had to teach me. Would I just be just as "transformable" here in Nairobi or wherever we were going to be as I was in Weru.

Outside Mavuno Church

Inside the church

The Massai Market

Day 36: Back to Mathare Valley

You all remember Mathare Valley? The slum we visited way back when? Well, today our team went back to Mathare for a workday. We were split into groups that would help with construction on the church, paint a government building, or taking care of kids. I was all over the place on this day: helping out at Mathare Valley Church's daycare center, spending time at Taraja (a place where women with HIV are empowered through making jewelry), and painting on a precarious ledge eight feet above the ground. This second time in the slums was as eye-opening as the first time, but there are definitely still some moments I will never forget.

Firstly, remember Wanja? If not, refer to Day 5. Anyway, when I made my way to Taraja, which is a room on the roof of the church where women with HIV are trained to make jewelry that is sold, I met Wanja again. I was really happy to see her and to learn that Wanja was one of the people who served all the time in Taraja to empower other women. So I being the polite, mannered person I am, I say hi, tell her that she had invited me and several other GP members into her home the last time we were in Mathare, and ask her how's she doing. She smiles and responds, but then she reaches over to a necklace and gives it to me as a gift. I was pretty stunned for a moment. I hadn't done anything except acknowledging and remembering her, but that must have meant a lot to her. For some reason, I felt really blessed by this small gesture of love she showed me. I come from America, where a lot of people only reciprocate love when they are first shown it. Here in the slums of Kenya, people feel loved if you even remember their names and return love in whatever way they can.

I distinctly admiring Pastor Karau (he's the one who organized this workday) and the passion he exhibits. He was a man who was wealthy by Kenyan standards and who gave it up to serve the poor in Kenya. He's no longer a young man, but he still dedicates his time and energy to serving the poorest of poor. I know he's not a perfect man, but I'll never forget his big heart. In fact, as my teammates and I worked in Mathare that day, I couldn't help but admire the amount of sacrifice, effort, energy, and love that was so evident. Here's a man, his family, and church who do so much with so little. What sort of convictions would lead a person to live like he does? How great must his faith be to be able to give and serve endlessly?

I remember praying that night that God would give me deeply seeded convictions and faith to replace the deeply seeded sins that often rule my heart. I remember praying that God would enable me to live wholeheartedly for Him, giving Him 110%.

Normally, I'd have a seizure if I was this dirty and messy

Day 35: A Billion Believers

The second temple we visited (we weren't allowed to take pictures of the first one)

Today, we visited two Hindu temples in the Nairobi area. Now I'm not going to lie, my mind was completely elsewhere today. All I really took in was the sophisticated and intricate designs and architecture of the temples. I'm serious: the woodwork was ridiculously complex and it literally seemed like every inch of the first temple was meticulously carved. Hinduism is a religion like no other: there are 350 million-ish gods, gods who can do whatever they want, philosophies that preach tolerance and inclusivity of all other ideologies, etc. But like I said earlier, I went through each temple with an apathetic attitude and not really caring about anything. I just wanted to talk with my teammates about whether Lebron James was really going to sign with the Heat.

Later on, we met Nita, an Indian woman who now lived in Kenya ministering in prisons to inmates. She gave her testimony to us and described her journey of discovering God, struggling with a Hindu family, and now living in Kenya and serving prison inmates. She's a remarkable and unbelievably strong willed woman.

Then that night, Brian talked to us about how almost one billion people around the world believe in Hinduism. He spoke about how Satan absolutely takes joy in stealing worship away from God. He even said that Satan's not afraid to bless people and to "answer their prayers" as long as they don't think to turn to the one true God. Sadness filled my heart. I couldn't believe that I had gone through the whole day not caring about anything. I had walked through a Hindu temple and didn't care that almost a billion people might never come to know God's love.

For some reason I could honestly tell people that I had come to love a hundred people in Weru, but at the same time, I felt no love for these billion people. This just goes to show how little my heart is and how inadequate I am as a missionary. I'll admit that since I was no longer on my ministry assignment, I felt less purpose and motivation to love people. I struggled to find what my "role" was now on the team. Before, it was just me and Dylan. We were the designated Americans who had come to Weru to share our love and preach the Word. Now I was just another team member on a team with more spiritual and outspoken people. I know this sounds stupid and petty, but this is honestly how I felt.

I went to sleep that night praying that God would break my heart more. That my heart would break for what breaks God's heart. And there are A LOT of things that break God's heart. Like the approximate 1 billion people who are worshiping millions of Hindu gods. The things that break my heart are far and few between, but the things that break God's heart are everywhere. I just had to find out how to see the world and people through God's eyes and not through my narrow view.

Nita and her close friend, Joyce

Day 34: Hot Water and Toilets!

I'm normally not a person who has a difficult time transitioning but dang, during that first night back in Nairobi, I definitely got a kick out of using an actual toilet and getting a hot shower. So this was our first full day as an entire GP team after we had all been out and about doing ministry for the past 3 weeks. It was a really chill day: Brian and Deb gave us the day off to walk to a local internet cafe to send out email updates and to hang out and be together again. For me, this day was refreshing, invigorating, and sort of hollow all at the same time. On one hand, it was a huge blessing to be with my teammates again and to share and laugh with one another. There we were: a group of Americans walking through the streets of Kassarani, making our way to an internet cafe so that we could let our friends and family know we were alive and well. It was just so nice to be able to catch up with friends and to ask each other how God had worked in our lives for the past few weeks.

On the other hand, it was too easy to get lost in the moment and to forget that we were all barely a day removed from being in the middle of nowhere and at the same time, in the middle of seeing God working in Kenya through us and without us. While all I wanted to do was talk with my teammates about where Lebron James was going (Chris Bosh had already said he was going to sign with the Heat and Lebron's "Decision" hadn't been made yet), I still desperately wanted to reflect on Weru, Pastor Mwiti, and all the happening of the past 3 weeks. We humans are such fickle things and I knew that if I didn't make a conscious effort to remember Weru and all that God had showed me there, then I would be robbing myself of spiritual growth.

Another struggle I had was adjusting to the whole "team" dynamic again, because again, I had just been with Dylan for the past 3 weeks and so I had gotten use to the brotherhood that the 2 of us had. Now there were 30 other personalities to "deal" with and I'll admit, I wasn't quite ready to be in the presence of so many young American college students again. So while I loved my team, I often found myself getting lost in trying to "fit in and be cool", even during this first day back.

That night, we began a nightly ritual that I would come to love: testimonies. Each night for the first week or so, 3-4 ministry teams would go up and share stories of how God worked in and through them. We heard stories of death, life, community, bugs, children, people coming to know God, etc., etc. I knew that I had saw and learned so much during my time in Weru and so I can only imagine the true depth of my teammates' experiences and journeys. I'd say that during our ministry assignments, we all got just a little glimpse of God's glory and sovereignty. Just a little but definitely enough to make all of say "Bwana asafiwe!"

Little Sisters' Spiritual Centre: Our home after our ministry assignments

Day 33: Hello and Goodbye

Saying goodbye, from left to right: Pastor Mwiti, Dylan, Edith, Salame, Betty, and Doris (our host grandmother)
Our home for 3 weeks

Dylan and I woke up at 6 AM so that we could say goodbye to the kids (Mweti, Mercy, and Kevin) before they left for school. Those kids are tough; they didn't cry or do anything like that as we said goodbye to them. As Dylan and I packed our stuff, Betty, Salame, and Edith came over to our host family's house one more time to hang out with us. To say that this day was bittersweet is a huge understatement. On one hand, we were finally going back to Nairobi where we would have running water, electricity, internet, etc. We would see our teammates in a matter of hours. Yet, I think Dylan and I both knew that Weru would always have a special place in our hearts.

Pastor Mwiti was actually going to accompany us to Nairobi, because his wife and children live there. Dylan and I were pretty stoked about this because this meant spending one more day with the man we had gotten to know so well over the past 3 weeks. So as the three of us got on motorbikes to head to the local matatu stop, I couldn't help but glance back at the sights which had become so familiar to me. The family's house. The church, Weru Worship Centre. The long dirt road. As we rode away and Doris, Betty, Edith, and Salame faded from sight, I knew in my heart that it would be a longshot for me to see these people ever again. This was definitely the hardest goodbye I have ever had in my life. I had come to love Weru and its people and it saddened my heart knowing I would probably never see or talk to these brothers and sisters of mine ever again.

Pastor Mwiti took me and Dylan to his home in Nairobi to meet his second wife (his first one sadly past away a few years earlier) and two of his other children, Bernise and Dennis. After hanging at his apartment for a couple of hours, we finally left for Little Sister's Spiritual Centre, where we would reunited with our teammates.

What a reunion it was. I can't even describe the feeling as ministry pairs trickled in from their journeys from all over Kenya. You know that scene in the last Lord of the Rings movie when Frodo wakes up after destroying the rind to find the surviving members of the Fellowship standing over his bedside? Remember all the laughter and joy they shared? I guess our reunion was kind of like that haha. It was so awesome to hug each other and begin to share stories about how God worked in and through us. When at last the last pair (Mike and Josh) arrived, something just felt right. There we were: a bunch of American college students who had all been in the middle of nowhere in Kenya doing ministry and learning what it means to follow God to whatever end and finally, we were all together again.

Like everything else in life, we must move on. Though I said goodbye to Weru and its people, it was time to continue to see what God had to show me for the rest of the GP. It was time to be in community with my friends from the GP again. Now was the semi-hard part (like any other spiritual experience): I had to take what God had shown me in Weru and not forget. Never, ever forget.

Day 32: Adventures in Mt. Kenya and the Last Supper (in Weru, that is)

Our day started at 4:44 AM when Dylan and I woke up to get ready for our safari into Mt. Kenya. We would be journeying to the mountain with Pastor Mwiti and two church members, Betty and Edith. To start our day, we met our two guides and the driver of our jeep. Now, believe me when I say that the 1.5 hour drive to the park entrance in the absolute worst drive I have ever been in. It was the most bumpy, stop-and-go, nausea-inducing car, sitting-on-a-mental-bench, would-give-anything-for-paved-roads ride I have ever been in. Once we gained admittance into the national park, we hiked for a good 5-6 hours (at an altitude of about 2 miles over sea level). In terms of sightseeing, we saw these caves, a waterfall, and other stuff. To be honest, the most interesting thing that we saw was a leopard from really far away with Dylan's binoculars. While hiking, I did have a chance to really reflect on what God had shown me the past few weeks and I really resolved to trust in Him to continue to work in my life.

By the time we got back home (after another crappy 1.5 hour car ride back down the mountain), Dylan and I were absolutely beat. I just wanted to sit down and relax before some church members arrived for a dinner party to celebrate our last night in Weru. It was dark by the time the car pulled in front of our family's gates so imagine my surprise when I get out of the car to see the smiling faces of Mweti, Mercy, Kevin, Brian, and all the other kids of church members. When I entered through the house doors, Javan, Moredi, Lydia, Salame, and a bunch of other church members were already there cooking a feast. I was dead tired but I told myself that whatever strength I had left was going to give to these people and kids I had come to love. After dinner, all the church members present gave Dylan and me encouragement and blessings. Dylan and I each then said our words of goodbye and then we prayed for Weru and the community they have there.

Saying goodbye to all the people and kids there was one of the toughest things I have done. I really love the people of Weru and in my heart, I know that I may never see any of them ever again. I was blessed not only to be able to minister to them but to also have received so much ministering as well. I will never forget my time in Weru, a small rural area in Kenya, halfway across the world, for it was there that God revealed Himself to me like never before in my life.

Pastor Mwiti and I chilling at Mt. Kenya

Dylan with Kevin (the youngest grandchild of our host grandmother, left) and Naphtali (Pastor Mwiti's son, right) at our farewell party

Our host grandmother, Doris, preparing food for the party

Day 31: The Countdown

I don't know about Dylan but by now, I was feeling a certain sadness in my heart knowing that my 3 weeks in Weru were almost up. It was Monday, so Dylan and I woke up early to go to Motiguru school for the last time. Pastor wanted to take me and Dylan to nearby Mt. Kenya on Tuesday and so this was the last time Dylan and I would see our school kids. In the morning we said goodbye to our GP friends, but it wasn't that hard because we knew we would see them in a couple of days. So Dylan and I taught/helped at Motiguru one final time before saying our goodbyes to the kids and taking the mandatory pictures with them. I don't know what to say about those kids; they will never experience material richness. Most will only ever know Weru and the surrounding countryside. Most will probably end up tending to their families' lands and growing coffee beans, chai leaves, bananas, etc. Yet those kids are so pure in heart; they're not spoiled American children who grow up with a sense of entitlement. These are kids who stick leaves onto sticks and then run around watching the leaf spin on the stick as the air rushes past the makeshift toy.

Later on that day, Dylan and I helped Pastor Mwiti plant a garden by the church. We planted a bunch of seedlings into the dirt that will hopefully become fullgrown plants soon. Dylan and I felt really happy doing this task, because we felt we were leaving something permanent behind in Weru. We felt this was our mark on Weru; physical evidence that we had lived there for a few weeks and that we had come to love the place. We suggested the name "Garden of Uz" to Pastor, because we read Job together during our time in Weru.

Finally, at night, Edith invited us over to eat dinner with her and her spunky daughter Makena. Dylan and I had really come to respect Edith and how she poured out her heart into the church and into the community. We were really blessed to have known her and we were excited that she and Betty would be joining us the next day for our expedition into Mt. Kenya.

Our time in Weru was up quite yet, but all the same, my heart was heavy because even though I had never lived without electricity and running water for so long, there is something very "human" and "spiritual" about living in these conditions. Life just seems more "real." I don't know how to explain it. Don't get me wrong, I would take clean bathrooms, spiderless rooms, and a nice soft bed any day over Weru; however, it's just so different living life in Weru where not everything is handed to people on silver platters. Here, people have to survive but they find so much joy doing it.

We taught the kids how to play "sharks and minnows" and they loved it. Of course, they didn't know what the heck sharks or minnows were so they called it "1-2-3!", because that's the count for when they had to start running to avoid me and Dylan.

The garden we worked on with Pastor

Pastor Mwiti and Dylan hard at work

Day 30: A Story I'd Rather Not Tell

Today was one of the most blessed Sundays of my life. There's so many stories to tell that I don'teven know where to begin. So I guess I'll start with the one I'm most ashamed of.

As I've mentioned before, Dylan and I had been preaching and giving messages at Weru but I had not yet given a message at the main Sunday service, which over 200 people attend. I had been preparing a message on Philippians 2 about love and how true love requires sacrifice. To our surprise, Dylan and I really came to love speaking, whether to a church congregation, fellowship, or family, because we felt that God could really minister to people through us. But like many things in my life, my pride quickly enters the picture and corrupts my heart. So I was really looking forward to giving the message at the main service on this Sunday, because...well, it was my turn. Dylan had spoken at the main service the week before and so I assumed that I would be speaking on this Sunday. For those of you who know me well, imagine what internal struggles I had when Pastors Mwiti and Karau decided that Nathan would be speaking at the main service and that I would be preaching at the evening service...again. For those of you who don't know me quite as well, let's just say I wasn't happy and leave it at that.

The previous night, as I looked over the message I had prepared on love, I felt both really ashamed that I was actually bitter towards Nathan and also really angry because I felt I was entitled to give a sermon at the main service. Heck, Weru was my assignment right? Nathan was our guest was he not? How could he just stroll into my neighborhood (so to speak) and be given the honor of preaching at the main service? It sounds really prideful, stupid, and slightly ridiculous, but this was honestly what was going through my head.

Then I thought about my message and its core theme. True love requires sacrifice. Of course, God wouldn't let my anger and bitterness win over His plan. Once my shame began to set in, I heard some simple questions: What's your message about? Do you live it out? As I talked through my struggles with Dylan, I realized how hypocritical it would be of me to give a message about love when I couldn't even love my teammate and brother Nathan. It wasn't his fault at all. He didn't ask to give the message. He was simply serving in whatever way the Pastors asked. In the same way, I realized that I had to serve in whatever way God asked. I had to put aside my pride and desire for glory and simply serve. Serve in whatever way brings God the most glory. Ironically enough, Nathan told me he would be preaching on Philippians 2 and humility. God does indeed have a sense of humor.

Fast forward to Sunday and we the GP team simply served in whatever way we were asked. Pastor Karau, Rich, Jackie, and Paula went to Mpuri to preach and to minister to that branch. The rest of us (Dylan, Nathan, Melissa, Katie, and I) remained to teach Sunday School and to preach. At the end of the evening service, those of us in Weru were given the opportunity to lay our hands on people and to pray over them. I don't know exactly what spiritual things transpired that day but I know that God worked in amazing ways through everyone who served. I know in my heart that people in Weru and Mpuri were served and that the Holy Spirit met them.

As for me, I was blessed to be able to serve. I did another thing I'm terrible at and apologized to Nathan for wronging him and he was so gracious to me. Like our GP director Brian said: Sometimes God brings us all the way across the world to teach us something. To show me something. That day, I learned so much about pride, humility, and servanthood. Because as much I meant for people to be blessed by my message about love, I probably learned more about love and sacrifice from my own message than I could have ever predicted.

Dylan and I addressing the congregation of Weru Worship Centre one last time

Nathan and I chilling with some kids