Two months and what am I doing?

New mission: update blog...ever.
So my sister informed me that though my family knows I'm over here, they don't know what I'm doing. So here's a daily itinerary that is supposed to be my schedule. That is to say, recently it has been like so, but more often than not there has been exceptions.
7:15 - Stumble out of bed
7:30 - Get coffee or tea, breakfast, retreat to my room for devotions
8:30 - Leave for Kibera
9:00 - Arrive at the office, have devotions on Tuesdays and Fridays, pick three people to visit
10:00 - 12:30 - Visitations
1:00 - Have lunch (Mondays and Tuesdays have a literacy student for an hour first)
3:00ish - Head back home
4:00ish - Get home (**notice the time it takes to get home is twice as long as going--more people to greet)
4:30 - Check mail (hint, hint), have some tea
5:30 - Help make dinner
8:00 - Watch movie, chat with the passing short-termers, or read The Idiot
10:30 - Lights out
So this doesn't describe Saturday or Sunday, which aren't so filled and varies even more than the above time schedule. Now, consider yourselves informed.
Mark 1:40 "A man with leprosy came to [Jesus] and begged him on his knees, 'If you are willing, you can make me clean.' "
Marko 1:40 "Akaja mtu mwenye ukoma, akapiga magoti mbele ya Yesu akamsihi, 'Ukitaka, unaweza kunitakasa.' "

Whereby

Funny things happen in Kenya. You get stopped by goats in the hills of Kinangop. You see rabbits hopping through churches of the slum. Christians pray by standing up and moving around, talking to the point of shouting. In one day, you can hear over 3 different languages, besides the one you can understand. You can be 8,000 ft above sea level after climbing just 2,000 ft to get there. You can be greeted, if white, by a thousand little voices chanting, "How are you?" You can be kept up at night by club music from around the world. You have to avoid stepping in flaming piles of trash. And you get introduced to "whereby" being used with the same thought the Kenyan gives to the word "the." Kenya is not at all what you would think, yet it's exactly what you want it to be.

At last

Habari! Finally, Blogger is working with me today! I have not been able to get it working. This is just to say that more posts will follow, and sorry for the delay. Even now, Blogger isn't working properly. Please, look for my email updates! If you don't receive one, email me (melissa.berg@yahoo.com). Until Blogger works again!!

Earlier post I tried to post...

Hey, everyone, I've made it! I'm in Kenya! I arrived last night (afternoon for you) and went to sleep! Last night, flying in was amazing. We were flying over the Lybian Desert, and it just went on for miles. Then it hit me--I've arrived in Africa. So here I am, luggage and all! After 24 hours in transit with 15 hours in the air, it's good to be on solid ground. It's good to be home.
Today, Tuesday, I have orientation, as I do for the rest of the week. Friday, I get a sneak peek at Kibera when I go to Chonesus, the program I'm working with. I found out today that most of the volunteers are Kenyans, so I'll really brush up on my Swahili!

A real day

Today is a real day. Today is one of those days where I know that in just a few days, I'll be boarding an airplane and it seems real. Two days ago was a denial day. Two days ago, my mind was refusing to wrap itself around the idea of my departure. It didn't feel like I was leaving soon. And a Real Day or Denial Day, either way, I have no concept of leaving for a year. Even if I wanted to think about it, I couldn't. I honestly don't know what being gone for a year feels like. Guess I'll find out soon. Keep praying for me. I'm saying my goodbyes (Elevate people, friends,) and am making some special time for others (Derbs, EE and Angel, my fam,) so that I'll leave on good terms and won't miss anyone. I mean, won't miss saying bye to everyone. I'll actually miss you all.
I don't know if I like real days. Good thing I don't have too many left!

Living for what?

Do you know about Myspace? Some of my friends tell me that it's a good place to meet up with old friends. Tonight, I spent some time looking through some of my old friends" Myspaces, and oh, MY, indeed. A few of them have seemed to find their way, but mostly, they seem to be the same frustrated teenagers from 5 years ago! I'm not really saying this to point fingers. Actually, some of the stories of what people were up to broke my heart. Repeatedly, I see "I live for me" or some variation of that, or "my life was made complete when I found ____." Is their idea of life out of sync? Yes! They are being lied to, they have the wool drawn over their eyes! Praise God that I no longer "live for myself" or for "Mr. X." I live for the One who lived and died for me--Jesus Christ.
I guess I kept thinking the whole time of what if I had a Myspace (no, Suze.) What would people say about how different my life is now? How drastically different. I could get prideful and say, look at me, Clayton kids, look what I'm doing. But what did I really do?
In church this week, we talked about the grace of God, that all the work that was done to earn me the Truth that my old friends don't have, that work was done at the cross, in one day, and not me working, no gift or talent of my own gained this knowledge, but only the work done on that beautiful Calvary Hill. What makes me so different that I know and they don't? The grace and pleasure of God. I was blind just like them. And now, thank you, Jesus, I see.
We're all missionaries to this dark world. Let your light shine.

Shifting Focus

I have 20 days until I ship out of here. I have realized the pressures of seeing everyone to say goodbye, packing, and packing, and packing. Most of all, I've seen the pressure of putting my ministry out of focus, and focusing on how sad it will be to leave everyone. But there is a bigger picture here. I'm not leaving against my will to do some terrible job. No, I am leaving to have the privelage of serving my King. In a few weeks, I will be surrounded by "a great cloud of witnesses" all my own. That is, people who are missionaries too, who would leave their friends and family to minister to people in a far away land. And, most of all, I won't be "the missionary who is leaving" but rather a missionary who has just arrived.
Praise God for calling me. Praise Him for having all of time in His hands, and using it as He sees fit. And as long as I'm where He wants me to be, I won't feel the pain of the "sacrifice" I had to make to be there.