Interconnected, partners, better together

When I was a Divisional Youth Secretary some years ago, one of my staff members asked me a question one day that went something like this: ‘if we are meant to be prayerful and reflective as Christians, isn’t it better for us all to become monks instead of living in the hustle and bustle of each other’s lives?’ I don’t remember all of my responses to him, but it was something like this. I believe God created us to live interdependently. While solitude and prayer is so important for us, it does not take the place of connecting with others.  God designed us to be in community where we draw strength from each other and be ‘each other’s keeper’ to the extent we can. God didn’t intend for us to live as an island onto ourselves but to be helpful and supportive - within our families, to our neighbours, and even or perhaps especially to the stranger.

I have seen the value of interconnectedness and partnerships so often since serving in Kenya.  Our territory is the recipient of many resources through various projects and donations.  So much is accomplished when we work together. Over the past three and a half years, many people (some of you on this mailing list) have shared your resources so that others could benefit. Some of my blogs have captured what your generosity has accomplished.  Since the beginning of 2020, the kind donations we received have helped people pay hospital bills, re-build a home that was demolished, buy furniture for an officer’s quarters, and now recently support our church leaders who are struggling to get their salaries since worship services are not permitted. We have also used your kind support to buy masks and our walking group distributed them throughout our neighbourhood.  This week, you will help us buy food for a children’s orphanage.   Sharing what we have with each other is not just a nice thing our mothers taught us to do, it ought to be a lifelong natural instinct for all of us.

Morris and I have been inspired many times with the resilience and hard work of Kenyan people and with a little extra help, many good things happen!  A year ago, during one of our visits to Turkana (the hottest and most desert-like area in our territory), we were quite impressed by an officer couple – Lieutenants Benson and Pauline Mamisu.  They were appointed to Kanan corps in December 2017 to find very little there. A one-room rented living space was their quarters and no church building due to a land dispute which had chased many people away. (Some of you may remember me writing about this before).  What captivated us was the commitment of this young couple to remain in the area and slowly they have begun to rebuild the corps – both relationally with the people and structurally.  With the support of the locals, they have constructed a small church building with iron sheets. One of their dreams, when we were there, was to construct a concrete floor to replace the dirt floor. Over the past year, the locals have tried their best to secure the materials needed to complete the project. It has been a tiring process and they have become discouraged because they just did not have enough money or resources.  The few members gave what they could but it fell short of what was needed. Recently Morris and I found some money that could assist them. We didn’t think the extra funds were enough but when we transferred the money, within two weeks the people finished their floor project! They were so thrilled!  When the pandemic restrictions are lifted they have a better place to invite people to come and worship.  Interconnected, partnerships, better together!

I recently posted on my Facebook page a great story about a water tank.  When Morris and I were in Newfoundland last year for Christmas, the Triton/Brighton Corps did a free-will offering at a Christmas music program to support the work of The Salvation Army where we are serving. When we received the money, we gave it to the Kisombe corps to buy a water tank, which they did. This is another very remote area that is poor and dry.  It was quite exciting to feel their enthusiasm while we were in the process of transferring the funds. As soon as they heard about the gift, the corps members immediately started to do their part in preparing the ground and building the base for the water tank.  This reservoir would not only support the church members, but many people in the community would now access clean water much easier. Prior to having the tank, so many of them would have to walk for miles during the dry season to get water.  The result of this small project, plus the fervour of the people getting involved and the gratitude the Salvationists expressed, confirmed for me the value of how sharing resources and helping one another reflects God’s design for us so well. It’s really just a great way to live!

The account of this water tank is even more profound during the Covid-19 outbreak. Over and over, the message of how critical handwashing is to curb this pandemic has gone viral. Handwashing has become the latest education urgency and PR priority. For people who have regular access to clean water, this should not be an issue, but what about the millions in the world who do not. The community of Kisombe is just one example of places where people may not have clean water readily available to them.  This leaves them compromised in trying to attack something like coronavirus.

This week’s communication from the International Social Justice Commission is aligning The Salvation Army’s call to prayer (“cryforjustice”) with the UN’s Sustainable Development Goal #6 – Clean Water and Sanitation.   I was reminded again how the lack of access to clean water and sanitation has far-reaching health consequences. And of course, the places where this happens are severely affected in so many other ways by poverty. Millions rely on compromised sources of water such as unprotected wells and springs. Climate change and pollution have placed major stress on water sources, leaving so many without access to this basic human need.

As we continue to pray for justice for women and girls this year, the issue of water plays a prominent role in the injustice so many females battle. Lack of water adversely affects many of their lives.  In most places around the world where households do not have easy access to water, it will be the women and girls who walk long distances for water collection.  I have seen it here in Kenya many times.  In doing so, they can put themselves at risk of violence and girls end up losing time from school. When family members get sick because of contaminated water, it is the women who bear the burden of health care. And during childbirth, a lack of clean water and sanitation can be the difference between the life and death of both the mother and the baby.  (Thank you to the ISJC for drawing this to our attention so that we might continue to pray over this and find more ways to ‘act justly’ wherever possible).  Water is critical to our survival and it has so many ripple effects – no pun intended.  No wonder Jesus said that being his follower includes offering even a cup of cold water in His name.  


Let me conclude by saying THANK YOU to all who are “partners in mission” in small ways and big ways. Always keep yourself alert to the opportunities you have to share, connect, and engage with others – those close and far away. Let’s continue to make this world the place God intended it to be. We are better together!

Below:  Preparing the base for the water tank in Kisombe

Water tank arrives!

Installing

Divisional Commander and Crops Officer

Name Plate

Fresh water available for church and community!! 

  

Kanan Corps - Dirt floor before project 

Working together! 

Final touches of floor paint! 

A new - rock solid - foundation for the church! 

Lieutenants Benson and Pauline - committed servants of God

Oh, how I love Jesus ...

April 10, 2020

Oh how I love Jesus …

It’s Good Friday and there is stillness in the air.  In the silence of early morning, a fresh unwrapping of Jesus trek to the Cross gripped my soul.  All based on one chapter of Scripture – Matthew 27 – and one song. The immensity of Jesus’ human experience has rolled over me like new depths of a mighty ocean. I don’t know how I will ever capture the thoughts and feelings in my mind and heart but I must try.

Betrayal 

Funny how you can read something a hundred times and then suddenly it is brand new.  That’s how my reading of Matthew 27 began today.  I got startled in verse 3. “When Judas who had betrayed him, saw that Jesus was condemned, he was seized with remorse.”  Have I not read those words before? So what was this fresh dawning, this ray of light parting the curtains in my window?   I could not shake the agony I suddenly thought Judas felt as I pondered those three words “seized with remorse.” When Judas saw Jesus being unjustly condemned, the act of his treason appears to rivet his soul.  “How could I have done this? What grief have I caused the One who washed the dirt from between my toes? Utter contempt clings to the fibres of my being like an unmovable bandaid glued to my skin.  I have betrayed innocent blood with an act of petty greed. I will never forgive myself for the deliberate and deceitful treachery of my callous actions. I can live with myself no more…”

Is there any human sore which takes longer to heal than the rawness of open-wounded betrayal? How could Judas live with this infidelity? He couldn’t.  With the desperation of regret filling every cell of his being, Judas takes his life. Is it possible he knew no other way to respond to the sting of guilt than to ensure he would never again cause pain to the One who loved him desperately? Was this an act of repentance?  If so, would he not have received mercy?

Betrayal is brutal.  It was the agony I saw in Susan’s eyes (not her real name) many years ago when she came to our office a few weeks after a joyous 25^th wedding anniversary celebration to tell us that her husband was leaving her. “I just don’t love you anymore” was what he said. Betrayal was what she felt.  

                                             

When she was a teenager, the abuse of alcohol in Diane’s home (not her real name) left her struggling with self-worth. One Friday night, the innocent ruse of friends playing a trick on her caused her to spiral further down as the bite of frivolous deception crushed her already bruised sense of esteem. Fun was what they meant. Betrayal was what she felt.  

None of us are immune to the possibility of betrayal. We lie. We cheat. We deceive. I confess my own human faults and turn to Christ’s invitation to repent and be forgiven. On the road to the Cross, Jesus would bear myriad forms of betrayal – the scattering of those to whom he had invested his life and love, the mockery of bystanders, and the fraud of an inept legal system.  As the weight of the wooden beam marked his wounded body, Jesus bore the disloyalty of those around him and that of the entire human race.

Injustice

He was innocent and falsely accused. The guilty was set free by the tide of public opinion. “Which of the two do you want me to release to you,” asked the governor. “Barabbas,” they answered. “What shall I do with Jesus?” Pilate asked. They all answered, “Crucify him!” In a moment of leadership exasperation, Pilate conceded and, seemingly, washed his hands of the virus of prejudice.  “I am innocent of this man’s blood,” he said. “It is your responsibility!” And with that, he released Barabbas and had Jesus flogged.

The moments that followed were inhumane and unfair. The cruel torture of physical abuse as Jesus was stripped and beaten was pitiless. The mockery of donning a ‘royal robe’, the anguish of razor-sharp thorns piercing his skull, and the ridiculing haunts of “Hail, king of the Jews!” exposed the worst of humanity’s ability to torment another.  The spitting and striking with his own stick again and again - it barely seems possible that someone would survive such immense mistreatment.  Yet, he did and others have too. Survivors of genocide, the Holocaust, and war prison camps leave us spellbound with stories of outliving similar vicious and heartless exploits of atrocious injustice. While these actions are among the most evil and extreme forms of discrimination, there are countless other injustices every day which are often accepted, overlooked or even considered normal.   

I am so drawn to Jesus, not only for his untamable and unmatched love but for his willingness to bear the fullness of every possible earthly experience.  Our Lord was truly and properly human and divine. He lived humanity at its best and saw it at its worst.  My faith in Christ is fortified as I ponder the invitation to follow One who “took on flesh and moved into our neighbourhood” (John 1:14, The Message), even when He knew what that meant.

As Jesus bears the bigotry of his undeserved suffering, he embodies the unwarranted treatment of all people whose vulnerability leaves them unprotected simply because of their gender, race, social status, or personal identity.  As people suffer perpetual forms of humanitarian drought – economic hardship, unequal access to health and education, domestic violence, and the unfair distribution of global wealth and resources – I am convinced that not only is Jesus still aware of this, He calls us to remain engaged in his battle of good over evil.  I celebrate the places and people where this happens and long to see it visible more and more.

Faith and love

In the events of Jesus’ crucifixion, there were moments of incredible frankness between the Son and the Father that depict a relationship of unusual honesty and unshakeable trust. On the night before the crucifixion, Jesus retreats to a familiar garden (Matthew 26). He confronts his Father almost like an angry or, if nothing else, a deeply tormented son who in truest human form pleads with his daddy to find another way to accomplish his plan.  The anxiety is real.  His sweat became like drops of blood.  Despite multiple attempts to be consoled by his companions, he bears the anguish alone as he cries “Is there another way?”

More brutal honesty would be heard again during the hours he hung on the cross. When darkness wrapped itself around Golgatha like a seamless cloak with nails piercing Jesus’ hands and feet as blood oozed from his body, in a mega loud voice Jesus screams “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me!?” This isolated moment of felt separation between Jesus and the Father is almost unbearable.  He had shared eternal intimacy and inseparable unity with the Father. He had leaned into His Father’s presence regularly.   Even those who mocked him declared “He trusts in God.” Physical and emotional proximity surely is what we need most in our toughest moments. Haven’t our hearts been broken over the past few weeks when we have seen people dying alone?

So here is Jesus again, living humanity. And as he does, his trust is not in vain. His faith is not futile so ours does not need to be either.  Hear the chords of love return in His perpetual offer of mercy that Luke captures: “Father, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing.”  Picture Jesus’ head bowed in calm surrender as his shout is replaced by a gentle whisper: “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.”  And join the celebration with the word John seizes:  “Tetelestai!” – It is finished! Has there ever been such love and grace? 

When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of Glory died
My richest gain I count but loss
And pour contempt on all my pride. 

See from His head, His hands, His feet
Sorrow and love flow mingled down
Did e'er such love and sorrow meet
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?

Were the whole realm of nature mine
That were a present far too small
Love so amazing, so divine
Demands my soul, my life, my all. 

Amen

Covid-19: Isolation and Response

I’m not sure I have seen as much written, discussed, videoed, or posted about one subject in such a short time as I have about Covid-19. Understandably since this pandemic is so global in scope and personal in impact or as one person said: “it is both macro and micro”.  I hesitated to write anything since so much is already written.  I know my reflections will likely mirror many others but that’s okay, I think I will write anyway.

Over the past two weeks, Morris and I have joined the throngs in adhering to and promoting the coronavirus protocols given through Government and Public Health.  We understand the need for radical measures for everyone to join the fight in reducing the spread of Covid-19.  We are “our brother’s keeper”!  That’s all right – it can bring out the best in us – like musicians on balconies, city-wide applause for health workers, and random acts of kindness everywhere.

One question currently being asked is:  when in our lifetime has ‘isolation’ ever been so commonplace? When have so many people had to physically distance themselves from normal life, activity, and community for such an undetermined amount of time?  With a backward look at history, you will discover that this isn’t the first time but it has been a while. On a smaller scale, isolation has been common when a pre-mature baby is incubated or a sick person is quarantined to prevent a contagious infection. Also, people who have lived in vastly remote areas like the far north or the very rural or on an island have felt a sense of isolation.  Today though it is the vast scope and widespread of the isolation that seems so unusual. Millions around the world own a new commonality - separation. Its impact seems to be both unique AND generic.

Like you, the situations and people catching our attention most (in Kenya and around the world) are:

·       The vulnerable population – especially the elderly, homeless, sick, and poor

·       The thousands of small business owners (here include so many roadside market keepers) with drastic customer reduction or complete closure

·       Parents coping with working from home and managing children every day –  especially parents with children who have special needs or single parents or high-risk pregnant moms

·       Front line essential service workers – health care, first responders, and emergency workers

·       People with mental health problems

·       People living far from those they love

·       People mourning and unable to conduct proper funeral services

      And the countries where the virus has spread so rapidly. 

Like so many other places in the world, here in Kakamega we have quickly noticed the reduction in people traffic and public transportation, indicating so much change. As The Salvation Army, we are responding as best we can.  We have adjusted our street boys program to ensure they are cared for during this additional crisis in their lives. Morris is working with our Projects Dept. and IHQ to secure rapid response funds to assist local communities.  We are supporting our officers and employees who have migrated to setting up offices at home, ensuring they can effectively work remotely – sometimes it’s the simple things that need extra attention. We have increased the use of social media to bring messages of hope to the thousands of Salvationists who can no longer come together for Sunday worship – a connectivity that is so important to them – truly a loss right now.  We have been especially prayerful for those who are mourning. Last week, one of our young couples lost their only 8-month-old child. Yesterday one of our active officers passed away. While neither death was because the person had contracted Covid-19, death for any reason is always sad and more so now with the isolation restrictions. These families need extra portions of compassion and care.

Along with practical support, acknowledging and naming what is difficult is a helpful response in a time of accentuated stress. You can do this verbally with someone you trust or take time to write down (or type out or record) what you are feeling. We don’t need to be hesitant to lament. Human beings have real feelings and it is okay to declare that all of this change in our world feels uncomfortable, unsettling, frustrating or sad.  Some of you may have seen a great Harvard Business Review article called “The discomfort you’re feeling is grief” - such meaningful insights. I highly recommend it. On a lighter side, there are also fun things you can do while you are isolated at home. I received an article from a good friend of mine about how baking is such a great stress reliever! So true - I made bread and cinnamon rolls yesterday! The website is: delish.com and the article is called “Psychologists say baking can actually reduce your stress.” (If you take this up, try to add a little extra exercise too!)  Reviving what is simple and ordinary right now is really good medicine!

Learning from others through reading or listening to podcasts or seeing what others are posting on social media is a great way to discover how to manage this worrying interruption called the Covid-19 pandemic. No one person has all the answers but when you take the time to find some helpful pieces of advice or share ideas with friends or reach out to your virtual neighbours, your isolation can slowly be conquered and day by day you can overcome how paralyzed this pandemic is making you feel.

Above all, Morris and I encourage people in their faith.  In a Facebook post a few days ago I said faith is a twin companion to fear – it has been for centuries. It probably was in 1918 during the Spanish Flu pandemic, during the World Wars or more recently with the HINI or SARS epidemic or during 911.  No wonder God says ‘do not be afraid’ so many times in the Bible. He knew that fear would be a normal response in so many situations – personally and universally. I don’t believe God admonishes or condemns us for our fear – He knows how fragile we are, how we are made of dust (Psalm 103:14). Instead, God prompts our inner being to find hope by believing in Him. While we wait for this pandemic to pass and for the day of full restoration of our broken world, God gives us this beautiful gift of faith: faith in Him – our Creator and ultimate Sustainer, faith in others around us, and faith in ourselves.

I have personally been finding many statements of truth in the Christian Bible to strengthen my faith. I  leave you with one that has gripped my heart for many years - a friend of mine reminded me of it last week (thanks Joan!). It is Colossians 1:17 “The Lord is before all things and in Him, all things hold together!”

Take care, everyone. Stay safe. Pray often and keep in touch!

Love you all. 

Wanda & Morris

Apart of something bigger

As a leader, I have learned that great leaders (what Jim Collins refers to as Level 5 leaders) focus on what is bigger than themselves. They are sold out to the cause or mission they are a part of and they inspire other people to follow.  This can be true of church leaders and those who lead in other sectors.  Being part of ‘something bigger’ than yourself helps you digress from self-centeredness (a natural human tendency) and find real fulfillment in being part of what helps make a difference in the lives of others.  As Christians, that is certainly the example of Jesus! The season of Lent proves that for sure.

Being part of something bigger than yourself is not only for leaders.  It’s a great thing for anyone.  Last week I watched a video from General Brian Peddle calling The Salvation Army world to a year of urgent prayer about a critical worldwide issue – justice for women and girls. This call is part of the focus being taken by The Salvation Army’s International Social Justice Commission.   I was a little startled when I heard this statement:  ‘perhaps the greatest injustice of our age is that half of the world’s population begins their life at a disadvantage just because they are born female.’  For someone who grew up in the developed world, the idea of being ‘disadvantaged’ just because I was a girl had a limited impact.  But now that I have seen this truth up close and have tried to broaden my understanding of what is happening in many parts of the world, I cannot argue with the General’s words – alarming as they are.

On a truly global scale, across so many national boundaries, is the reality that women and girls have a much harder time owning their value and thriving as equal human beings despite the fact that God created both genders equally. His design has always been for full rights and freedom of every person, regardless of your gender at birth.  Even with incredible international efforts including new laws to protect women against gender-based violence, better access to health care and education opportunities, plus thousands of people uniting for years and years to dismantle so many forms of injustice against women and girls, there is still so much more to be done.

Included in the General’s call to prayer, ‘cryforjustice’, was new learning for me. The year 2020 marks the 25^th Anniversary of the Fourth World Conference on Women which happened in 1995 resulting in the Bejing Declaration and Platform for Action where 12 critical areas of concern for women and girls were identified and commitments made to actively address these issues. To be honest, I had never heard of this. I was intrigued to read about what has been done in the past 25 years and it dawned on me how every effort we make toward this cause (becoming actively involved in justice for women and girls) is part of “something bigger”!  If it takes a village to raise a child, it takes a world to bring equal value and equal opportunity to the female child.

On Friday, I was part of a monthly ladies’ Bible Study at our office. Together we were digging into some of the narratives of Jesus’ life and teaching. Inspired by Dean Pallant’s book “To be like Jesus!” we considered what it means to not just “do” like Jesus but to actually “be” like Jesus – to look beyond the actions of Christ to the heart of Christ. What truly propelled Jesus to respond to the crowds with empathy and kindness, to oppose cultural norms of inequality, to teach real Kingdom values, and to resist the ploy of Satan to be self-centered?  We discovered the heart of Jesus is compassion, commitment to truth, unconditional love, selflessness, and justice. We looked at the parable of the unjust judge and saw how the widow’s persistent cry for justice was finally answered.  It requires a lot of soul searching and a transformed mind to resemble Christ – but it is possible!

I am so grateful for all that is being done every day (big and small) by thousands of people who put their convictions into concrete action. More girls and women are now valued in the home, the workplace, the community, the political arena, and the church. From governments and NGO’s to advocacy groups, churches, and ordinary people, countless numbers of people (men and women) are part of this ‘something bigger’ so that this ‘greatest injustice of our age’ may be significantly reduced more and more.  Among many other ways we are taking action, The Salvation Army will have a voice at the Commission for the Status of Women hosted at the United Nations from March 09-20 and will hold parallel events with NGO’s and other stakeholders.

Here in the territory where I serve, three significant projects are happening concurrently which focus on justice for women and girls: an Anti-Human Trafficking project, a Women’s Economic Empowerment project called WORTH now expanding to several new areas, and the second phase of a Mother/Child Health Project.  There are also hundreds of small women’s groups in rural villages addressing real-life issues of women’s health care, social matters, community concerns, and family challenges, all with a faith-based strategy. These efforts help reduce unfair stigmas, increase knowledge, and empower women to find their voice and their place in their everyday lives. The Salvation Army is actively engaged across Kenya doing their part for this global cause.

Why does this matter to me? I have two adult daughters and one granddaughter who benefit every day from living in a place where they have untold opportunities to flourish and grow without much discrimination because of their gender. I treasure that! What I never want to forget is that every girl living on this planet is also someone’s daughter and granddaughter. They have every right to the same opportunities as Erica, Stephanie, and Anna-Lynne. I want to be – in some small way – a part of helping make that happen.

At the end of our ladies’ Bible study, we joined the General’s wave of prayer as 12 of us stood in a circle with clutched hands united in spirit to ‘cry for justice’. One of our ladies prayed so earnestly that her burden was almost palpable.  She prayed intensely for an end to child marriages, domestic violence, the challenges facing the girl child, and every form of oppression that females face.  We must pray – individually and corporately - AND we must try to find ways to support a cause that is bigger than we are.  As I search my heart and mind to discover how I can reimagine ways to be more actively involved, I encourage you to do the same – whatever your ‘something bigger than you’ is.

If this cause for justice for women and girls resonates with you, find out what’s happening around the world to close the gap of the inequality which exists between male and female people. (Check out: https://beijing20.unwomen.org/en/about and https://www.salvationarmy.org/isjc/2020-cry-for-justice). Be part of International Women’s Day on Sunday, March 08.

Where and if possible, advocate for equal rights for both genders – like fair wages without discrimination. Give females fair access to music groups, sports teams, or other spheres which are currently male-dominated.  Consider volunteering for something in your community that promotes the protection or empowering of women and girls.  Donate some time or money as your gift to the girls and women who need to know they are visible and valued. Or use other ideas that stir up inside you to resist our natural tendency to be self-focused by finding a cause for others that’s worth fighting for.

I recently asked a group of women leaders (officers) here in Kenya what it was that helped them become confident leaders in a culture that is prone to elevate men above women.  The responses included “a supportive partner who gave me the freedom to excel”.  As we pray for the injustice that is still so prevalent towards females, let’s also pray for more supportive partners to stand with them!

Thanks General Brian for calling us to prayer and for shedding a light on how to ‘be part of something bigger’!

There is a time for everything ...

A verse of the Christian Bible says: “There is a time for everything and a season for every activity under heaven” (Ecclesiastes 3:1).  In this book of wisdom literature, the writer - a teacher and son of King David - laments over the purpose of life, crying out “meaningless!”  He asks questions like: “what does man gain from all his labour? Is there anything of which one can say: ‘Look! This is something new’? It was here already, long ago, before our time.”  In his quest for purpose, he questions whether wisdom, pleasure, friendship, riches, or our toil is worth anything in the end.  Like millions more, this author probes the point of our existence. If you read the entire book though, the bemoaning teacher intermittently releases an air of breakthrough and wonder - even when we do not understand all that happens.  From the outset, the poet refers to the creator, God, and amid his dirge, he declares God “has made all things beautiful in its time” (Ecclesiastes 3:11). I wonder what happened to lead him to such a conclusion? Was it a crisis or simply a gradual revelation? This blog isn’t a Bible study so I will let that question hover.  Perhaps, in the end, the how isn’t what matters.


What I think is this. “A time for everything” doesn’t necessarily reveal the meaning for everything but it can set in place a sense of life’s pattern or formation. It is our role to discover life’s meaning within it - beginning with “a time to be born and a time to die.” A start and an ending.  Our beginnings often bring us promise, the hope of what can be – a building project, a new job, travel, a baby born. The dawning conjures happy possibilities and we find meaning in what it will look like. It’s the takeoff. Our ‘endings’ bring other emotions. When a project is finished, a trip concluded or a retirement celebrated, there may be great satisfaction AND there might also be the lament of “I should have …”  


The most difficult ending for most of us is death, that moment when we cannot escape the truth that there is “a time to die.” Death is a piece of the pattern in life we sometimes try to resist, ignore, or even resent, understandably so. It is often cloaked in sadness, stress, questions and torment – particularly when death, in our minds, comes prematurely. We don’t like death. We struggle with what to do with our sadness. We describe it as a “hole in the heart”.  Through hugs, tears, and conversations everyone is trying to ‘say the right thing’ to find comfort from each other, AND through the endless moments of internal silence, we admittedly or subconsciously ask - where is the meaning?


I was recently given a book called “The Prophet” by Kahlil Gibran, a famous work of spiritual fiction in the 20^th century, first published in 1923.  A poet, philosopher, and artist from Lebanon, Kahlil’s writing is based on his experience as an immigrant to America, inspiring many who feel “adrift in a world in flux”. I read that as “many looking for meaning in life”. The fictional story is about a man named Almustafa who spent 12 years living on an island and had always longed to return to his birthplace. On the day he is finally able to set sail for his homeland, his emotions surprise him. He is thrilled with his dream come true of ‘going home’, elated to travel the seas to the place he had longed for. Yet as he climbed the hill to board the vessel, he is acutely aware of the pain of departure, a stinging ache from leaving the people who had so intimately filled his heart and made his life a burning flame. He was met by a large crowd of islanders, equally torn that he was leaving them.  Their final cry was a request for Almustafa to give them one more gift - share his wisdom about the big questions of life – love, family, work, and death – which he did - his last offering to the people he loved.


Intrigued by his artistic prose, I found several pearls in Kahlil’s writing, including his reflection on sorrow. He says this: “When you are sorrowful, look again into your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.” Think about it. Joy and sorrow are intermingled in our lives. They rise and fall like tides of the same ocean and are combined like inseparable grains of sand. If we did not have so much joy, we might not have so much sorrow. If we did not cherish those we love so much we would not weep so desperately when they are gone. While we would not choose the sorrow of departure, we would not want to have lived without the joy. “The selfsame well from which your laughter rises is often time filled with tears.  Love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation” (Kahlil).  


In the story of Almustafa, he left the people cherishing what the one they loved had spoken to them when he left and also what he had not spoken but simply showed them.  This would be the gift they would pass on to their children and their children’s children so that “it shall not perish” (Kahlil). In the broken heartedness of farewell is the gratitude of having loved one whose imprint will remain.


“He makes everything beautiful in its time.” The Creator


Written in honuor and memory of my brother-in-law, Dennis

What do you see?

The age of information technology has many advantages for us – increased knowledge, global neighbours, instant communication, virtual connectivity, enlarged social justice awareness, and video imaging (wonderful when families are continents apart) are all very beneficial. It’s amazing (even mind boggling) how IT has advanced and evolved to where we literally can no longer do without it for so much.  We now live with the Gen-Z people group (ages 4-24) who will never know a world without technology.  In the midst of all that is so great about IT, adversely, there is at least one potentially unfavourable effect - what it does to our posture. Our heads are down and our shoulders slumped (something I don’t need as mine tend to be rounded anyway) as we spend so many hours a day with a downward bodily stance.  This physical position probably translates into more than just poor posture too. It can decrease good social skills and even increase the risk of injury or worse if, for example, we are texting or video calling while driving.  

This past weekend while we were travelling I was thinking about this. I don’t drive in Kenya (a little too nervous of the traffic here). So when we go long distances, I tend to be on my mobile devices – cell phone, iPad, or computer – especially when we are going to places we have often been and I’ve seen lots of the scenery already.  I consider it a good use of time to use my modern-day tools for research, messaging family and friends, or writing.  Occasionally (like yesterday) it dawns on me that while I am consumed with my devices, I’m at risk of missing beauty, inspiration, and learning from what is happening naturally all around me AND I shouldn’t assume that I have seen it all.

On Sunday morning we had a bit of a long drive to our place of worship. It was a very interior church in Busia county, close to the Uganda border. Instead of putting my head down and slumping my shoulders with my cell phone or iPad, I chose to leave my technology tools (aka modern-day ‘toys’) and let myself be captivated by the rich sights and sounds that fill the rural roadways and villages in this country. Here’s what I saw lots of:   smiles / resilience / improvising / community networking / resourcefulness / families working together / people walking, laughing, chatting, connecting / women washing laundry on the rocks and drying it on the grass / families cooking outside / cows, goats, chickens and more cows, goats, chickens / children skipping / mud hut homes / fruitful trees / groups gathering for worship in half constructed buildings / farming – hard labor – digging, tilling, weeding, seeding, harvesting / empty school grounds waiting for the return of weekday activity / shops buzzing / children and women fetching water / tree shade / women carrying bunches of bananas on their head / tons of vegetable stands with fresh bright red tomatoes, green cabbages, yellow corn, and red onions / so many people outside – hundreds / bicycles and motorbikes transporting goods / men chopping firewood / and friendly little ones waving their hands at the sight of the muzungu!

What did I see? I saw signs of a world that isn’t perfect but laced with many hints of what God intended. I saw glimpses of God’s Kingdom on earth as it is in heaven. It isn’t faultless or impeccable – someday it will be – but it is beautiful.  And I am convinced that I would serve myself best if I keep more alert to the everyday glimpses of love, hope, joy and peace that could potentially pass me by if I stop looking. I don’t want to miss what God so lovingly and painstakingly created or ignore the signs of his love and grace in the people, places, and provisions immediately before me.

I know there is much more going on ‘right in front of me’ than what I see on a drive by on a Sunday morning. I need to not only see but stop and understand the ever revolving and emerging world which maintains tremendous beauty AND amplifies incredible diversity and change. The vision of what God wants me (us) to see will likely happen best if we keep focused on what is around us - the big and the small - as well as on the Creator who made it all possible. 

I was reminded this morning when reading Ted Loder’s book “Guerillas of Grace – Prayers for the Battle” how Jesus saw signs of his Father’s Kingdom in the tiniest things and most unlikely people – in salt and yeast, pearls and seeds, travelers and tax collectors, sowers and harlots, foreigners and fishermen. Jesus had the vision I long for.  I need to keep my head up and my shoulders un-slumped (is that even a word?) more often so that I don’t miss the beauty, wonder, goodness and incredible possibilities in normal everyday life no matter where I live.  For perhaps it is in seeing this I might experience another part of Ted Loder’s prayer: “the grace of what is possible for me to be, to do, to give, to receive, that I may miss neither my neighbour’s gift nor my enemy’s need.”

I am very thankful for modern-day technology AND I hope it never replaces my God-given sight.

What do you see?

Out with the old ... in with the new?

On May 31, the Central Bank of Kenya (CBK) issued new currency notes - the first change of denominations since 1979. The change was made to help fight money laundering and reduce incidents of counterfeit, part of the President’s commitment to “stamp out corruption.”  The notes have been introduced gradually over the past three months and as of October 01, some of the old Kenyan shillings notes will be retired.

Not surprisingly, the change elicited public criticism. CBK was responsible to ensure a sufficient distribution to local financial institutions and there is now a shortage of the notes already.  Some Kenyans were upset over the design which includes a photo of Kenya’s first President, Jomo Kenyatta, stating that “money should not feature a portrait of an individual.” Others backed the choice as a sign of respect for the country’s founding father. Human Rights activists argued that there was a lack of public participation in designing the notes.  

As the new notes trickle into the everyday market, people are recognizing what differentiates the new from the old.  One appealing feature is how life in Kenya is identified on the bills – agriculture, green energy, social services, tourism, and government.  Enhanced security features are ensuring authenticity. Hold up a new note to the light and from both sides, you will see a watermark of a perfect lion’s head, the CBK text, and the value of the banknote.  Touch the edge of the notes for barcodes (50 = 1 bar; 100 = 2 bars, etc.). They are both seen and felt, intentionally included this way for visually impaired consumers.  Distinguishing what is fake from what is genuine is the goal. 

The response to this currency conversion confirms that change is a process.  Change comes in varying ways. Sometimes it has minimal consequences, a temporary irritant. Other times, it is life-altering. Sometimes it’s inevitable, other times unexpected.  Exchanging what has ‘always been’ for something different can naturally trigger resistance, worry, and chaos.  Change happens in the places closest to us like our family, work, social connections, and community as well as in broader spheres like world economics, technology, and global infrastructures.  We have all seen changes in education, government, healthcare, and spiritual formation networks.  Here’s a thought - change is consistent.  Sounds like an oxymoron, yet it’s true.  

I had a short conversation with a local educator recently. It was an impromptu chat. While I was visiting some officers in their home, this gentleman, one of their church members, came into the house.  I can’t quite remember how the conversation began but very quickly he was talking about change. To my surprise, he spoke of how ‘his country’ has moved away from ‘what was’ to ‘what is’ at a rapid rate and he was a little apprehensive.  He spoke of how Kenyans are becoming much more individualistic and a lot less community-minded - a value which has long been part of their heritage.  He shared his deep concern with seeing so many parents giving their children mobile devices to use as ‘baby sitters’ instead of being fully present with the little ones.  It struck me in that moment how universal many changes are – even when pace and context differs.  I responded to the gentleman with how I still see much more community based living here than in my Western homeland. But for this man, the change is real and creating anxiety for him. Interestingly, this conversation happened in an officer’s house where the door is always open.

Sometimes we approach or evaluate change by putting it into two categories – success or failure, good or bad – but I’m not convinced it is that easy. Life is too complex to label something so commonplace by compartmentalizing it. I think it may be much more “grey” than black & white. In my opinion, change is seldom an “either/or” of winning or losing. It is more likely to land inside a “BOTH/AND.”  I guess the question is how do we maneuver through our changes, embrace what is in front of us, and keep well through the process.  

Here in Kenya, we watch people every day persevere in less than ideal situations and sometimes with limited resources AND we see resilience - in the face of change.  While the country moves forward with changes that can be ‘for the good of the whole’, the adjustments have had consequences. One example is road construction.  It is improving traffic safety and transportation accessibility increasing economic productivity and development, which is great.  AND in the midst of that, some people have been displaced from their homes, left stranded with no compensation – that’s tough.   Then there are large supermarkets coming to the bigger rural towns.  Consumers benefit from increased conveniences and more choices AND local small businesses (markets) suffer from up-scale competitors. 

These practical examples remind me of other significant paradigm shifts. What about the change we see in the emerging younger generation?  Young adults are stepping forward in various sectors of life (family, social networks, work, church, etc.) and offering a different perspective (something new) in light of ever-changing moral and intellectual world views?  This change could, for many, include some real adjusting to fresh ideas resulting in BOTH losses and gains.  (I encourage you to follow General Brian Peddle’s most recent devotional series called Millennials).  Or what about when there are changes to the culture which have been deeply embedded for generations.  How do we maintain positive regard for what has been AND move forward to creatively discern what is needed for the days ahead? I believe we need much compassion, wisdom, integrity, and mutual support from one another.

How we navigate change, how well we manage to move through the chaos, depends much on the situation and personal cost.  Sometimes lack of communication complicates a turbulent time or maybe there is a lack of resources or skills needed (personal or professional). Maybe there are barriers which are higher to overcome then we realized and we need to be patient with ourselves in the change process. Maybe there is a deep need for greater loyalty and the ‘helping hand’ of people we can trust AND the freedom for open dialogue.  This reminds me of something critical in all of this.  We are formed best in relationships and moving toward one another in times of change can be a healthy way of being, making us even stronger than we thought we could be. 

For me, what matters most through change is that we search deep within to find what grounds us. What are the unchanging values that will sustain us? AND what supports will we purposefully create and hold to more tightly as we find our way?

I realize in closing this blog the example of introducing new Kenyan notes may not be as drastic as other life changes. It did, however, bring to my mind the universal truth that few things in life remain the same. AND that “out with the old… in with the new” is not simple. It can be tangled, many-sided and puzzling like a spider’s three-dimensional cobweb. AND in its midst, a discovery of beauty, strength, and light just might arise.

As I often do, I let someone else’s Word be the best and final say on this topic:  “But whatever is good and perfect comes to us from God, the Creator of all light, and He shines forever without change.” (James 1:17, TLB) Thank goodness!!  

Their names are ...

Their names are Rukia (24 years old) and Nurr (20 years old).  They went to school and had hopes and dreams, just like many other girls.  Among their ambitions was earning a living to help support their families – especially their moms. One day someone offered them an opportunity in another country – "a steady job with reasonable wages working as house girls" was the promise.  The offer was exciting. It wouldn’t be forever.  They would work hard, then come back and help their Mamas. I met these two beautiful young ladies a couple weeks ago. They did go away and they did return, both disillusioned and damaged.

Let me share Rukia’s story in her own words: 

I dropped out of school in Form three (grade 11) due to lack of school fees.  A couple years later, one of the community members (known to us) connected me to a job in Jordan.  I worked for two years with no communication back home and no salary.  My boss used to tell me that he is sending my salary home to my mother. I came to realize that it was a lie when I demanded to see the transactions to confirm if my parents really received the money.  They had not.  When I finally requested my boss allow me to visit my people back home when the contract had terminated, he took my passport and kept it and started mistreating me by beating me.  I used to sleep on the floor without a blanket, no food and isolated from other family members.  One day I woke up and refused to work.  In order to be allowed to go back home, they locked me in a room and beat me up which ended up damaging my brain.  He then sent me away and showed me the direction to the embassy.  While at the embassy, I found another lady who was going back to Kenya (Nairobi). She was asked to help me trace the agent from Nairobi to help me get back home to Bungoma but while in Nairobi, I was taken to Qatar where things got even worse. There was no food and no salary.  I worked for two months hoping to get some pay but all was in vain until one of the workers sympathized with me and deported me back to Kenya.  I was picked up by my aunt in Nairobi and taken back to Bungoma.  Due to the frustration and harassment I experienced, my brain was damaged and I am still on medication.  If given a chance to go outside the country again, I cannot accept and I always discourage youths from going to work outside Kenya.

When I met Rukia, she had been back in Bungoma for over a year. She just had a baby who was born premature.  She is really trying to get her life back together but it is not an easy road.  Her story is similar to Nurr’s who worked in Qatar for 9 months.  Nurr also suffered deep mental anguish and is now struggling to go outside her mother’s house.

In November, 2018, with the help of another Salvation Army territory, the Kenya West Women’s Ministry and Projects departments engaged in an Anti-Human Trafficking (AHT) project, now known as “Oyana” (Swahilli for ‘inspire and uplift’). The goal of the project is to help decrease human trafficking incidences and reduce the vulnerabilities of at-risk people in communities through raising awareness, promoting greater access to preventative and restorative services and strengthening the AHT networks and referral systems. The project is now active in 3 divisions under the direction of Major Margaret Njeri.  Several other employees, including on the ground field coordinators, are part of the team.  It was during a recent visit to the Bungoma division that I met Rukia and Nurr.

Purity, our field coordinator in that area, has built a supportive relationship with Rukia over the past few months. She told Rukia I was in the area and just wanted to say hello. We found Rukia visiting her mom whose one room flat is small but clean. Mom is sitting outside operating her tiny market.   As we chat with Rukia, I can tell that a growing trust has emerged with Purity.  Rukia sits on the floor in front of us and tells us about the baby who’s doing well now. She assures Purity she is taking her medication.  The scars from her out-of-the-country work life (what she describes as brain damage) has resulted in some mental health problems that need treatment.  Purity reminds Rukia of the Community Youth Group which meets every Friday and how they are starting some training on catering skills. Rukia is eager to attend.  My visit is short but I’m so thankful for the few brief moments to interact with this beautiful girl.  She is shy but friendly. Her eyes are sad.  I sense her dignity feels broken as she takes my hand when I offer to pray with her. Purity is hopeful that Rukia will eventually heal from her trauma and she’s committed to working with her for the long haul.

When we get to Nurr’s house, the story is a little different. We meet her Mom just outside the small rental compound. Her name is Yasmin. Purity has been here several times and tells me how Yasmin cries so often over her daughter.  Nurr had been the main bread winner for the family before she was lured away.  Now, the family feels hopeless because Nurr is not the same person she was a year ago.   We go inside to a small dark room. When Purity enquires about Nurr, her Mom goes into the next room and returns to say Nurr is in bed (though it’s mid-afternoon) but she will get up. Purity knows that unlike Rukia, Nurr is very withdrawn and has yet to speak to her. Purity has told me not to expect any conversation.  Nurr comes out of the room dressed in her Muslim head gear and long dress. She smiles and whispers a slight “hi”. Purity is quite happy since this is a big improvement since her last visit. Nurr takes a laundry tub and begins to wash a few articles of clothes just outside where we are sitting, with her back to us. We spend a few moments talking to Yasmin until her other daughter, Leila, comes by. I learn that Leila is 19 and hasn’t been to school since leaving Form 2 (grade 10) because there isn’t money for school fees and now her Mom also wants her to stay home with Nurr.  While the family is Muslim, the Mom doesn’t hesitate to let me pray with them and comments “the Christians pray for us too.”

These young women have been wounded by circumstances.  Like millions of others around the world, real stories are rising from the ashes of deception, control and abuse of power.  Rukia and Nurr know firsthand what it is to be mistreated in ways that now leave them struggling to re-find their value. They were traded for someone else’s benefit. Their rights were violated and now they are at risk for repetitive incidents. The efforts being made here are part of a worldwide attempt to fight this social evil, to help decrease such instances, and take action in providing restorative measures  to help restore broken self-worth.  The Oyana project includes partnerships with schools, health providers, social services, churches, and government officials. It’s only just begun AND poly, poly (Swahili for ‘slowly, slowly’) we believe a difference can be made.

I called this blog “Their names are …” because I believe people should not have labels.  When writing reports for the project, the term ‘survivors’ was used as a way to refer to any person (like Rukia and Nurr) who were victims of trafficking in some form. Even children were identified with this tag. During our visit to Bungoma, we talked about making a change to “people who have survived being trafficked”.  I am a strong proponent of identifying a person as a person – they have a name. They are not their circumstance.  Their names are …

Human trafficking is evil and it is a crime. Around the world, it is thought to be one of the fastest growing criminal activities. It can show up as forced labour, sexual slavery, commercial sexual exploitation or coercion, and even as human organ extractions.  It is a condemnation of any person’s human rights and it can happen anytime and anywhere.  We may not be able to fix this problem globally but we must not remain silent or complacent when any opportunity for intervention comes our way.

As Christians, let’s join the fight. Let’s find any way we can to help support, take action, and pray for “freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners.” (Isaiah 61). 

Purity gives Rukia a small gift for the baby

Major Margaret and Purity offer some oil and flour to Nurr's mom to encourage her. 

Just a visitor ...

Just a visitor …

I’m currently reading Alicia Elliott’s book, “A mind spread out on the Ground”.  An interesting perspective on the treatment of Native people in North America.   A paragraph in the book caught my attention today.  “In Leslie Jamison’s essay “Fog Count”, she goes to visit a friend in prison, and while there, realizes her experience of the prison as a visitor will never be the same as his as an inmate: “The truth is we never occupied the same space. A space isn’t the same for a person who has chosen to be there and a person who hasn’t.” Jamison can ask as many probing questions as she wants, can write down all the details, but she will always, in effect, be a tourist in that space because she can always choose to leave.”

Morris and I know we are visitors in Kenya.  We work and live side by side with indigenous Kenyans every day, yet we never occupy their space in the same way. Nowhere is this more evident than in Turkana.  Bordering South Sudan, Uganda, and Ethiopia, it is the hottest and most barren, thirsty area in our region. We had the privilege of being there again recently for our third visit.  Our Secretary for Program, Lieut. Colonel John Olewa, accompanied us and, despite his fear of flying, he was so excited because it is his first trip to Turkana, though he retires at the end of this year. 

Flying into Lodwar, the central township, we see how the long periods of drought dehydrate the land and the rivers, leaving miles and miles of scorched terrain. (Ironically, the long-awaited rains also come in extremes, often causes flooding.)  Either way, people struggle to sustain their livelihoods. Recently the territory dispersed food and water supplies from IHQ’s emergency response efforts due to the drought. Our trip was an opportunity to visit and encourage the Salvationists in their ministries and conduct a District Review.

For three days we drive in nearly 40 degrees heat for miles, across desolate rugged roads and bleak river beds. I remember how the Bible describes creation “groaning” to be restored to a place of wellness again.  Driving over the rugged, rocky terrain, the flatlands are peppered with gnarly sparse trees and low-lying bushes.  The parched earth seems to long for refreshing water. I began to imagine a day when the light brown soil would turn to lush green healthy vegetation and crops would flourish. I kept reminding myself that while this craving may be very real, people survive here. They build a life. They are resilient. They have families. They work hard.  We see herds of camels, sheep, and goats roaming from place to place as the nomadic pastoralists seek for better conditions for their animals.  The camels survive well in this hot land because they can go for long periods of time storing water in their humps.  For the locals, they are a good source of milk and meat, and their skin is also used for making shoes.

The first stop of our tour is Kaeris corps where a new Lieutenant is leading the congregation. The locals are doing well and have constructed a church hall on their own.  Naturally, I ask “where is the quarters?”  I am told, “the Lieutenant lives in the office.” At the back of the church, the office has been converted into a one-room living space, using a curtain for sleeping privacy.  His shower is outside and his bathroom is an outdoor latrine. In December the Lieutenant is getting married so they are hoping to have a quarters constructed by then. 

Our visit also included two Salvation Army schools.  One of the secondary boarding schools was so was clean and organized.  About 320 male students were placed here by the government from all across the country. Fortunately, many of the 16 teachers stay on site which we hope means mature mentoring and helpful security.   The principal of the school has been on sick leave for six months with a very serious medical condition.  The teaching staff are working extra hard to help improve the boy’s academic achievements.  The trophies on the filing cabinet indicate the boys are physically active, winning several awards in their sports programs. We stop to greet the boys, encouraging them to keep investing in their education and reach high to fulfill their capacity. 

As we leave the school and venture up the hill to the adjacent corps, we quickly hear the strains of African songs. Ladies dressed in their colourful kangas and beaded neck jewelry are vibrantly dancing outside. What I didn’t know ‘til half way through our visit was they were singing “Welcome Madam Vincent to Lokitang!”  I had been with these women in January at a District women’s seminar and they were so excited that I was now visiting their corps. (I think they were happy to see Morris too!) Lokitang is the hub for the northern area of the District. The corps is small and the attendance sporadic. We can tell there’s lots of work that needs to be done. The people are very kind and generous with their traditional gift giving to visitors. Morris and the Program Secretary are presented with handmade walking sticks and sitting stools as well as a Masai blanket. I too get a colourful blanket and a lovely beaded headpiece. These gifts all represent respect for their ‘elder’ leaders.

Then it’s on to Nachukui and Nashechubeni. (Don’t you just love these Kenyan names! I can barely get my tongue around some of them).To reach these corps, we literally drove ‘through the hills’ and across more parched river beds, with Lake Turkana peeking through some foliage in the distance.  It felt like off-roading through desert sand dunes and not really being sure where we were headed.  Finally, the DO says “there it is!” and for the first time ever, Morris and I arrive at a corps and it’s a tree! Under the canopy of branches shooting out from a tree trunk, about 30 people (adults and children) were shaded from the hot sun. This small group of worshippers come every week to sing and dance and hear a Bible message from a retired Envoy. There had been several attempts to build a church and a house but each time an infestation of termites destroys the structure. The people seem happy with our visit but I really felt that deep down they were not unlike the parched dry ground, groaning for a better day. We look into the faces of the children and we know the needs are huge. Several young women are carrying babies on their back and we wonder what their future will be. One of the gentlemen asked if he could speak. He shared his longing for a way to have resources to help them, including support for the children’s school fees. We knew there is a much bigger conversation needed. All we could do today is shake their hands, encourage them and pray with them. More dialogue would have to happen in the coming days.

Because Turkana District covers such a large geographic area, and the roads are so rough, we become keenly mindful of the financial burden and time issue it takes for people to travel. Only two of our Salvation Army corps have motorbikes for their officers. The others depend on public transportation which in this area is often a business lorry that could take 2-3 days to get an officer to Divisional Headquarters. 

On Saturday afternoon, following the District Review, we visit a corps that is just outside Lodwar, located on the outskirts of an IDP - Internal Displacement Camp.  When violence broke out in 2007 during a rough election year, many residents were displaced around the country. Hundreds of families landed in Turkana. The young Lieutenant couple is so loving and innovative. They were appointed here two years ago to no church building and 6 people to call church members. Initially, their living space was a rented one-room apartment – they had one little boy and she was pregnant with their second.  They must have seen the work which was before them but they were not discouraged. They were there to serve.  Apparently, the people who previously attended the corps had been chased away from their building through a land dispute and were left without any place to worship, thus many abandoned the church.  The new officers immediately began doing outreach, visitation and making connections in the area.  They now have a lovely two-room house and a church structure built from iron sheets – currently working on replacing their dirt floor with concrete.  To date, they have about 25 adults attending each week as well as an active youth and children’s ministry.  They declare their commitment to seeing the corps grow.  We were so inspired by their leadership, and while they too are in some ways ‘visitors’ in this northern land, they have requested to stay.

Our excursion concluded on Sunday following the morning worship service at Lodwar corps. We were quite inspired by the quality of music they have. The band and songsters were exceptional. Many young adults have moved into Lodwar for employment due to the decentralization of many government services.  The Corps has benefited from the commitment of many young Salvationists. 

A visitor comes and a visitor goes. The people remain. It is their home - their space. They are resilient. They are proud. They deserve our respect and support.  We leave this northern land of intense heat and waterless clouds with our notes.  We will never occupy their space as they do.
We will come again.

The District Leaders, our Secretary for Program, and ourselves

Our security detail. :) 

The children are a little shy shaking hands with the muzungu 

Some of the locals greet us when we stop for a "short call" :)

Kaleng Corps - the Officer sharing their reality with us.

These high school boys are preparing for their exams.

The corps under the tree!

Dancing with the Lokitang ladies!

Morris and Lt. Colonel John receiving their gifts.  

The walking stick and the stool as well as the Masai blanket are part of the local tradition for men. 

Beautifully handcrafted too. 

Major Lucy and I chatting with Lieutenant Pauline outside her corps. 

Inside Kannon Corps 

This little girl, Jolene, loves having her picture taken. 

She's only four but she wanted to wear her mother's soldier's epaulets! 

Lots of parched dry land

A few areas were pretty rough.

If I could read this camel's mind - "Who are these visitors anyway"?

Final Day - Taking the salute at Lodwar corps before the service. 

It doesn't matter how hot it is, they still love to march!