Kijabe AIDSRelief Project

I found this link for a video about AIDSRelief that I was involved in the last three months in Kenya. It's maybe 10 minutes...enjoy!
http://www.streamakaci.com/ondemand/msdidea/Kijabe_Hospital.asx
Beware, you need Windows Media Player. Okay, to tell you the truth, I didn't try another one. Just let me know if it doesn't work and I"ll email it to you if you want.

Home Again Home Again

I broke my toe about two hours before I left. My little pinky toe. Just hooked it on my suitcase and Voila! broken toe. So the trip home was interesting, though not as painful as I expected, praise the Lord. SIM treated me well as I stayed there for a day. And it was surprising for me when I remembered I don't need to grab toilet paper on my way out because here, they all have toilet paper in the bathrooms.
Since I arrived in NJ yesterday, it's been good to see my family again. I got to meet my huge nephew and see my two little nieces now so big! But the thing about these past two days is that outside of the changes in the kids, everything feels the same, normal. It's not some crazy shock, and I'm not slipping into life perfectly here yet, but still, in a way, it's like I've never been gone.
This has me nervous because I think that in the next month it will set in just how much has changed, and this "normalcy" will only accentuate that.
Until that time, I'm going to sip coffee, sing songs, play with kids, and enjoy everyone like not a day has passed.
Thanks for your prayers, everyone! Come back to see how my adjustment is going in returning home.
Ps 84:10 says, "A day in your courts [in your will, where you want me] is better than a thousand outside [going where I want, staying where I want]."

One Week

I have one week until departure.
I'm buying my souvenirs, I'm getting business finished, I'm saying goodbye.
Then next Monday I leave.
My itinerary is as follows.
Monday-- Depart Kenya, 11pm
Tuesday- Arrive NC, SIM-USA 10pm
Wed'day- SIM debrief, Depart NC 5pm, arrive Philly 11:30 pm
Thursday Arrive NJ around 1am.
I know, it's pretty late for a ticker tape parade, but maybe we can just have it on Sunday. See you there!

June

It's June, everyone. June 2008. Do you know what happens in June? I finish my term; I leave Africa; I come home.
June.
June...

Tiny

My best friend for the past year has been a Kenyan man who lives in the slum. He makes in a month what I spend on dinner out. He has scars on his body from pangas; I’ve never been in a fight. He speaks three languages, and interprets for me, Miss Monolingual. But he is my best friend. Despite the differences, we’re tighter than brothers. Our favorite verse that we tell each other is Proverbs 17:17, “A friend loves at all times, but a brother was born for adversity.” And most of the time, he is kind enough to let me believe that we are the same. I can easily forget that I’m white, that I’m rich, that I’m more educated. Though this is one of the parts I treasure most about our relationship, it’s a sham. I am different from him. Every now and then, I get a glimpse of it.
Due to careful handling, it’s only happened two or three times before. But the biggest kick was just a few weeks ago, and I stepped right into it.
We were talking about what it would be like if he came to visit me in America. I told him I’d set him up and take care of his room and board. I laughed as I remembered what my budget will be when I get back and said, “In my tiny apartment.” And then it happened. The veil lifted and we were divided.
He said, “You mean as small as mine?” It was an innocent question, I’m sure of it. Still, it hit me like a brick wall. His house is as big as most of your living rooms. It is probably as big as my “tiny” apartment’s living room will be. There’s no carpet, there’s no light, TV, or computer. He doesn’t have a separate room to sleep or cook in. He doesn’t even have a toilet to call his own.
And I said, “Tiny apartment.”
A big question for people going back to the States after an extensive stay in a third world country is whether their values will change. Will they still see the same things as “necessary?” I’m not even home yet and I’m saying things like this. What an eye-opener.
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes?” (Matthew 6:25)
“Ndiyo maana nawaamieni, msiwe na wasiwasi juu ya chakula na kinywaji mnavyohitaji ili kuishi, wala juu ya mavazi mnayohitaji kwa ajili ya miili yenu. Je, maisha ni chakula tu au zaidi? Na mwili, je, si zaidi ya mavazi?” (Mathayo 6:25)

Again and Forever

Let's imagine (as I'm in the habit of doing) that Heaven is real. It's a real place, and one day it will really exist in the physical form and will never die away. All inhabitants of it will never die away, and they will be in perfect harmony together.
Imagine that everyone who loves God on earth will go to this place.
This is my solace and my hope while preparing to leave here. I have three weekends left on this continent and there are so many people that I want to spend all my time with. Since this is impossible, chances are, I'll see most people only a few more times before going. And chances are, they will be the last.
I really don't like relationships because they constantly need to come to an end. But if Heaven is real, if everyone who loves God on earth will love Him forever in a place, then it need not be the end. That means that I may say goodbye to Ebby here, but I'll be able to ask her about her baby one day when all is finished. That means that I'll see how many lives Hyda touched here on earth, or that I'll be able to talk to Genesis all day every day for 10,000 years. What is the biggest joy, which also will produce the biggest pain for now, is that I'll see Arthur again. I trusted my life to him (truly was that tested in January) and he has become closer than a brother to me. If we don't get the chance to see each other here again (something I will actively fight against) it's okay. Because Heaven is real. Eternity is real. And one day, I'll see my brethren there, gathered around the throne, and we will talk endlessly and there will be no more goodbyes.
Hallelujah.

One time I split my thumb

One time I split my thumb open. Right at the top, where it opens again every time you move it. I busted it while carrying a bucket of chai into the church and ran into the doorway. I cut it on the iron sheet. Clean cut, too.
No, I did not cry, despite what Hyda will tell you.