Deep and Wide

Deep and Wide

Sunday School choruses keep surfacing as I blog. They are simple, visual, memorable.  This one has an expanded meaning for me now while still easy enough to teach our little granddaughter.

Deep and wide, deep and wide, there’s a fountain flowing deep and wide … (not the same without the actions!)   While this childhood tune describes the love of God, it also evokes other images of measurements and dimensions - width and depth. Images of an ocean or the sky may emerge.  Something large and grandiose. Something significant or striking.

When we were appointed to serve in The Salvation Army Kenya West Territory, it was thrilling to learn about the size of the Army here.  The SA yearbook records more than 125,000 senior soldiers, over 500 corps and 900 outposts.  The percentage of Christians in Kenya (those who claim Christianity as their faith association) is 80+% of the population.  I must be honest, I was impressed.  Before leaving home, I spoke about this to an officer whose brother had served in another country in Africa for many years. I was cautioned to consider not just the ‘width’ of church growth but the depth.  (This does not apply only to the church in Africa but anywhere.)  Over the past year, God has reminded me that large numbers of people participating in church life and claiming to be a follower of Jesus is only meaningful (or impressive) if they reflect the depth of what is truly important in the Kingdom of God - life changing spiritual values that are embodied.  Ultimately God is the judge of that, though Scripture teaches true Christian disciples are identified by the fruit of their living.

Morris and I recently visited two Corps where a ‘growing church’ was celebrated. Lusalanga Corps in the Musudzuu Division was upgraded from an outpost to a Corps. (An outpost is a smaller group of people who are part of a larger congregation but gather separately for worship, usually because of distance).  An outpost can become a Corps when financial and personnel resources are sufficient to operate independently as a stand-alone congregation. This was now true for Lusalanga.  After being a worshipping congregation for many years, the people had finally achieved the Territorial criteria for Corps status.  They have more than 200 senior soldiers, more than 50 Junior Soldiers, an active Home League (women’s ministry), a group of faithful local officers, a quarters for the Officer to live in (if they have an officer), a Corps building, and financial resources of at least 15,000 Kenya shillings ($150US) per month.  (Note: this criteria is now under review since a single Officer’s salary is 21,000/= ($210US) per month, plus other expenses for the Corps).  Currently, an officer has been appointed to serve part time here. The ‘mother corps’, Butisi, from which Lusalanga was birthed, is led by an Officer couple. The female officer will be leading Lusalanga while her husband remains at Butisi. 

 Vibrant and joyful worship was visible both outside and inside the hall that morning. More than 100 soldiers were marching to the corps, after conducting an open air meeting in the market, when we arrived. They welcomed us warmly and shouted in unison when Morris cut the ribbon at the door of the church.  They entered their ‘new Corps’ sanctuary with traditional dancing, singing, and drumming.  With the new Corps flag waving like it had wind in its sails, the congregation applauded loudly when the CSM was handed the framed certificate, naming Lusalanga as Corps #531.  Members of other outposts and neighboring corps were present to support the celebration as well as a gentleman from the Africa Divine church whose grandfather had been one of the first soldiers of the Lusalanga outpost from its inception. He even marched with the soldiers and saluted us! The Divisional Commander, who was present that day, gave a public appeal to have a full time officer appointed there in the next annual general change. Morris couldn’t make any promises so he just nodded. J At the end of the service, Morris was presented with three gifts to inaugurate him as an official elder of the Corps. He received a Masai blanket as a symbol of an elder’s responsibility to keep the people comforted, a club for him to defend his people, and a stool for him to rest when he was tired. An honorary moment.

A week later, we attended the grand opening of a Corps building in Chebosi, part of the Webuye Division. (I like sharing the different names of corps and divisions!). Chebosi has been a growing corps with five outposts.  They demolished their old corps building and worshipped at a school while raising funds for the new hall. They were so delighted to finally have their new structure.  The floors are still unfinished, the windows have no glass, and the walls are without paint, but the exuberant gratitude of the congregation that morning would match any.  It was contagious!  With visitors and members of the outposts joining for worship, the hall was almost filled to capacity – probably 5-600 people, and the crowd was ecstatic with joyful thanksgiving, expressing their praise and worship so freely.   The corps choir graced the worship time with melodious voices singing a beautiful rendition of “Lord I make a full surrender”.  Later in the service they were elated when one of their corps members (now a politician) donated uniforms for the entire choir.

Presenting the title deed for the land that morning also solicited shouts of gratitude.  This document confirms the Salvation Army’s ownership of the plot and is often very difficult to attain, due to corruption. It is essential for the corps to have this because of the challenge of ‘land grabbing’, thus the boisterous applause when it was passed over to Morris for safe keeping at THQ.   

When we make such visits as these, we don’t pretend to know whether the ‘width’ of the church growth is congruent with its depth. However, in both these situations, it was the devoted service and locally owned initiatives of the people that helped achieve the growth they experienced. The members of the church had been faithful in attendance, in evangelism, and in giving (many sacrificially) for a long time in order to accomplish their goals. They did not depend on Divisional or Territorial Headquarters for reaching these milestones which indicated a commitment that was about more than just numbers. I remembered one of General Andre Cox’s “I dream” statements, released during his first year in office.

 “I dream of an Army free from the dependant culture”. This may not be true in every corps in Kenya, or around the world, but it is worth celebrating when we see glimpses of it.

Jesus told many parables related to growth in the Kingdom of God that began with something very small - a grain of mustard seed, a pearl, a tablespoon of yeast, but it grew – and the outcomes were a mighty tree, a vast treasure, an expanding influence.  Lusalanga and Chebosi began as a small Army but through perseverance and dedication, an organic spiritual community has emerged. We pray the growth in these churches will be equally deep as they are wide.

I long for a church in Kenya and universally that not only records large numbers of people attending, but is rooted deeply in its spiritual life. I resist the temptation to boast of any growth that does not reflect Kingdom values. Actually, I must resist boasting altogether.  Instead, I reach back in time to a couple verses from the first chapter of the Bible I ever memorized, Psalm 1. (I guess I learned more than choruses in Sunday School).  “Blessed is the one whose delight is in the law of the Lord. That person (or church) is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season.” (brackets mine)

So grateful that Morris and I have seen (in many places over the past 24 years) some of the fruit being yielded in season and for that, we give God thanks.

Hope you enjoy a few pictures of our corps visits.  

Lusalanga Congregation marches from the open air to the Corps 

They gather outside for prayer before the official opening 

They are so eager to enter the building to celebrate becoming a corps!

But first the plaque must be unveiled ...

And then the ribbon cutting!

Finally they fill the hall!! 

So happy with their new flag! 

Corps number 531! 

Thanks Chief - you're one of us now! :) 

Chebosi Corps marches to receive the salute of their Territorial visitors.  

Corps Officers and Divisional leaders are very excited today! 

Planting trees are always are great way to celebrate growth!

Morris shares a few words before the doors open.

And again, the plaque is unveiled 

You just had to be there to experience the joy!!

One base drum is never enough - a great African tradition. 

The group standing back on is the Corps choir. They sang so beautifully! 

Hip, hip, hooray for a title deed!!

And the presentation!

A wonderful day! 

Family Visit

Family Visit – April 2018

Living and serving in another country is a privilege, a blessing, a stretch, and an education. The hard part is being far from family.  We are extremely thankful some of our family have been able to make the long trek to visit us.  On April 18, we drove to Kisumu airport to welcome Erica and Jeff and two very sleepy toddlers to our new home! We spent two and a half weeks relishing the joy of having Anna-Lynne and Oliver, and their parents, with us.  Capturing much of our time on camera (see pics below) we explored some of Kenya’s natural beauty and wonders including incredible wildlife and brilliant scenery like the distant view of Mount Kenya emerging above the clouds. Spectacular!  It was neat to have our family see for themselves the landscape and the culture we have tried to describe. Travelling around the places familiar for us, they now have their own visions of the uniqueness of this country and the innovative, resilient people who use available resources to build their lives every day, and often do it well. I believe this added much to their holiday.

While we planned some excursions especially to amaze our young grandchildren with marvels like the big five, there was no question the four adults in the group were equally delighted.  We spent two days at Ol Pejeeta Conversacy, about four hours drive from Nairobi, staying at the Serena Camp inside the game park.  The early morning sunrise game drives gave us many up close sites of zebras, impalas, buffalo, rhinos, elephants, jackals, gazelles, hyenas, and water jacks (part of the deer family). All truly remarkable creatures! We also stood on the imaginary equator line and for a just a few minutes, spanned two hemispheres. :) 

The Serena Camp was tenting at its finest. Not exactly roughing it!  Along with very comfortable, hotel like tents, it had a beautiful dining room where we could watch rhinos come to the watering hole just outside our tent and be entertained by a large stork that kept wandering up to the window by our table. 

The only little ‘slump’ in our safari visit was our matatu (van) getting stuck in the mud the day we left. Spending four hours watching the locals try to pull us out taught us patience (I think) and the reminder of being prepared for the unexpected. It was probably an exciting morning for the neighbors!

Along with getting to feed a special rhino who was blind named Baraka (he sure loved sugarcane), we also fed giraffes at a park in Nairobi. (The option to kiss the giraffe was available to us but we declined!) We had a good history lesson though and were intrigued to learn about preserving certain species of these very tall animals.

Later the next week, we enjoyed time at Rondo Retreat Centre in the heart of the Kakamega rainforest. We were thrilled with watching the jovial play of both the blue monkeys and colobus monkeys (they look like skunks with a white stripe down their back and tail).  Got some close up photos one day of them racing through the grass.  This area is also home to the splendour of gorgeous butterflies and amazing floral. Erica and Jeff did a two hour guided walk through the rainforest and climbed the mountain for the panoramic view of just how large the rainforest is. The grandparents had fun with the kiddies alone for a few hours. Love it!  

One day we drove about 30 km from our house for the kids to see some entertaining baboons.  It was fun watching them play together, wash each other, and eat their sugar cane.  Apparently many animals have a sweet tooth just like us.  It was a little unnerving when the baboons came close to the car but not alarming.  They are obviously quite comfortable living by or on the busy road. 

Another treat for us was celebrating Oliver’s first birthday. The little guy liked his new African drum. J We also had opportunity to worship with our family at two corps – Kakamega Citadel and Ikonyero corps where we soldier. The happy (and loud) singing, dancing, and drumming was a little different from most Canadian worship services – happy we got to share it together.  At one point, Anna-Lynne joined her Nana and Granda on the platform when we were called on to pray. We hope all these memories stay with her.

A few shots of this precious family holiday:

Blog #35 End of life traditions

End of life Traditions

(You may or may not find this blog of interest. I write it mainly for the purpose of my own record and share it for any who are curious.) 

Not long after we arrived in Kakamega, we saw first-hand some of the regional customs when a person dies (other areas have different practices). With our office on the main thoroughfare through town, every week we hear the noise of what sounds like a festive parade. It’s the commotion of mourners.  Thursday is the day allocated for bodies to be taken from the mortuary to the village home to begin funeral and burial ceremonies. Dozens of boda-bodas, tuk-tuks,and  matatus (local taxis) carry people through the community as they support the grieving families with waving tree branches, honking horns, and vocalizing emotions while the casket is being transferred.  We knew there were other associated rituals when a loved one passes but we had not attended a funeral until recently.

On March 22, the father of our Territorial President for Women’s Ministries, Commissioner Grace Chepukurui, passed away. In Salvation Army terms, he was ‘promoted to Glory.’ (I like that term).  He was 95 years old and had suffered a lot of illness over the past five years.  A faithful member of the church and a caring father, Grace described him as a ‘pillar’ of their family and community.  Not long after his passing, we were informed that the two day funeral would include a church service on Thursday and then a burial/celebration service on Saturday. The burial site would be the home compound which is customary for most.

The church service happened at Commissioner Grace’s home corps, attended by about 300 people – family, friends, church members, community neighbors, and officers from around the Territory.  We arrived at the church just before the service began but no one was inside.  Everyone who was attending (besides us and a few others) had joined the procession from the mortuary. Soon we saw the large convoy of people coming behind the small hearse.  The crowd quickly filled the corps building as the casket was placed at the front.  As the family took their seats, we noticed that Commissioner Stephen (the TC) was not sitting with his wife. Family tradition requires the spouses of the daughters to be separated during the days of the funeral and burial. Grace had been residing with her siblings over the past several days and would remain with them for some time after the funeral.

The 2 ½ hour service was filled with lots of joyful singing, some prayers, and many speeches.  Every child (ten in this case) plus their spouses and their children all made comments about their loved one. Aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews, and church members were invited to speak as well. A sermon was given, followed by a benediction which led to the viewing of the body by everyone who was present. The casket had been closed but was now opened and everyone walked past to pay respect.  Following the service, the body was taken back to the family home.  We gathered in the yard to watch the zig zag procession around the grounds until it reached its resting place.  It was set inside a small tent just in front of the house and would remain there until the day of burial.  We were quickly invited to a neighbor’s house for lunch and did not get to see Commissioner Grace because she remained with her family. We learned later that so many relatives came to stay at the house that some of them slept outside.

On Saturday, we attended the second part of the funeral, an even larger gathering. Many more from the community (church members, government officials, educators, hospital staff, fellow employees of the children, etc.) as well as scores of Salvationists and Officers, about 6-700 altogether, had come to share with the family.  Tents were erected on a school compound to accommodate the crowd and help shade all from the hot sun. The casket was brought from the family home and placed just off to the side in an open tent. It was opened during the service and people were casually viewing the body during the program.

 The service began at 9:30 a.m. and finished near 3:00 p.m. (I was glad I had a few peanuts in my purse!).  Once again there was much ‘celebrating’ with jubilant singing, tambourines & drums, and traditional dancing.  At first, various churches in the community presented musical items. Traditionally every church gets included – no one is left out because community support is highly regarded. Everyone is expected to provide practical assistance so everyone is integrated.  I was reminded that many in the western world would consider a funeral a more private event while here it is very public and focused on community.

Lots more speeches were given, then a Bible sermon (by the Territorial Commander of Kenya East), and prayers offered.  Each family member, including Grace’s mom, all the immediate offspring, and many extended relatives spoke.  Other speeches came from community members. The Emcee tried hard to move the proceedings along in a timely and respectful fashion being conscious of the length of the service and the pending rains looming as grey clouds began to spot the blue sky. We were told that the Salvation Army actually keeps their funeral services short, others extend beyond five or six hours.

Before the sermon was given, an offering was taken which would help the family with associated funeral costs. The price of funerals can be very steep and no one has insurance. On top of regular expenses, providing meals for the large number of people who come for visitation during the days of the wake and the services, as well as renting tents and PA equipment were some of the extra costs incurred by the family.

At the end of the service, time was given for government officials to speak. While they were instructed not to use the event as a political platform, everyone quickly knew it was. This was a very different part of such a gathering for us but apparently quite common.  

As the proceedings were concluding, the casket was closed and brought into the middle of the compound as various groups marched around and draped ‘nets’ (pieces of sheer white lace material) over the coffin.  A traditional closure, this finished the public event for the day. We had a short time to greet a few people and then taken to a nearby home to eat (it is always important to feed visitors). Grace and her immediate family, excluding her husband, went back to the family compound for the actual burial.  They would stay together for three more days and finally share one last Memorial Service together.

As we walked through this new experience, we could not deny the significance of traditions for people. Family and community practices can provide solace as long-established conventions give people something known and memorable to lean into when a change, like death, has disrupted their lives.  Traditional norms can become routine and eventually people may not always focus on why they are repeating the activity, but they do so simply for comfort. A few times we asked ‘why is this happening?’ and were told, ‘because it’s tradition’.  We resist any criticism to that response because conceivably some of our practises are comforting too, purely through repetition and familiarity. 

I have always affirmed the value of community. God created us to support each other. The Bible says there is a time to carry our own burdens and a time when sharing the load is the better plan.  Times of sorrow definitely include the latter.

A couple of songs surface in me as I write this blog.  “Lean on me when you’re not strong. I’ll be a friend. I’ll help you carry on …”   And also one I heard a few years ago when one of our church members lost his brother.  While it may have been particularly relevant for the loss of a sibling, the message resonates again now.  A 1970’s song, “He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother … it’s a long, long road, from which there is no return. While we are on the way to there, why not share the load …”  

Whatever traditions happen across the world, it is enlightening to learn what people find helpful.   Regardless of the form or practice, perhaps we can find more space for understanding than judgement. And may none of us ever find it a chore to use whatever means possible to care for each other - to the end of the road.  

The pain of peace and a leadership style

March 18, 2018

I don’t often write about politics. Truthfully, I’m not a consistent or avid follower.  I keep myself reasonably aware of public and social affairs as well as global activities.  Since my husband is much better at being politically apprised, he is often my best source of information.  Being in positions of influence as leaders, we commit to being politically neutral given the risk of inadvertently swaying someone’s thinking or their voting persuasion.  For us, following the ‘news’ is be about awareness and concern for our community and nation.  This often leads us to prayer for the people including electoral officials, as well as a consciousness of any advocacy opportunities.

Living in Kenya for over a year has heightened for me a deep concern for national peace.  The disputed elections of 2017 gave rise to unfortunate violence, the innocent loss of life including children, ethnic polarisation, and a political stalemate that adversely affected the country’s economy for several months - a high price for citizens to pay.  Last week a political twist appeared to bear new light on a grim situation. The President and Opposition leader came together with a ‘painful’ but important decision meant to end a ‘decades-old vendetta’.  When the new President was elected last August, a People’s Assembly was created and on January 30, an illegal ‘swearing in’ of a people’s President happened.  This caused a deeper apprehension for future stability.  The surprising announcement a few days ago revealed a dissolution of the People’s Assembly, providing opportunity for improved strides of political unity and restored prospects for the well-being of Kenyans as an anticipated priority. While the Opposition will continue fighting for electoral reforms, reasonable political dialogue and an increased effort towards unity is the fresh agenda. Building a peaceful nation appears to be the goal, addressing issues of exclusion, poverty, and corruption.  I am not naïve and I know political promises can be skeptical, but I do join Kenyans in hopeful optimism for better days ahead.  

As I read the news articles surrounding this decree, I reflected on some leadership principles.  The negotiations leading to the truce of President Kenyatta and Mr. Odinga were made solely between the two leaders. The ‘deal’ was made in secret, leading to back lash from the party members when the news surfaced.  For several days, no public discussion divulged the process or the reason for this method of decision making, ensuing speculation and criticism. I couldn’t help but reflect on the conviction Morris and I have about collaborative leadership. When would I ever think it is right for a leader to ‘secretly’ meet with one other person and make a decision that affects the many? Is this unhealthy control or is there legitimate discretion for leaders to do this, especially if the outcome appears positive?  In the case of Kenya’s political leaders, the ruling crafted seems beneficial for the country – though more implications are arising.  But what of the leadership method?  Where was transparency, accountability, and inclusion of others? Aren’t these inherent leadership values?  Do leaders have a right to confidential or back room processes when there is more at stake in the ‘big picture’ than what those affected realise? As a spiritual leader, I have to ask, do we see this in church governance?  If so, what does it look like? And when, if ever, is it okay?

Another piece that troubled me was the price for peace.  The cost which incurred over the past seven or eight months since the first election included the death of 360 people due to political tension, including virtuous children (I find that thought hard to shake) plus increased tribal division. The political leaders have declared that justice will be served and both parties will preach peace and reconciliation for all 44 tribes as they move forward.  As new information regarding the goodwill discussions were revealed, the word ‘painful’ kept recurring. Painful talks, a painful handshake, and painful processes have described what it has taken to reach greater hope for peace in Kenya. A painful price. I lament that anguish was experienced at so many levels.  Isn’t that the case in so many global situations and in many people’s personal lives? Our earthly truism - we are not free from pain, though its forms vary. Yet, mysteriously beauty rises from ashes.

Pain. Gripping torment. Skeptics. Agony. I think I’m describing someone else who walked a painful road. His style of leadership? Humility. Suffering love. A servant.  Alone, he willingly endured unjust pain for his cause and ours. And on Good Friday, we will remember the cost of our peace, the price paid for our reconciliation with God, and a restored hope for the human race.

“The servant grew up like a tender young plant. He grew like a root coming up out of dry ground. He didn’t have any beauty or majesty that made us notice him. There wasn’t anything special about the way he looked that drew us to him. People looked down on him. They didn’t accept him. He knew all about pain and suffering. He was like someone people turn their faces away from. We looked down on him. We didn’t have any respect for him. He suffered the things we should have suffered. He took on himself the pain that should have been ours. But we thought God was punishing him. We thought God was wounding him and making him suffer. But the servant was pierced because we had sinned. He was crushed because we had done what was evil. He was punished to make us whole again and His wounds have healed us.” (Isaiah 53:1-5, NIRV)

When you eat your smarties ...

Who remembers this jingle?

              When you eat your smarties, do you eat the red ones last?

              Do you suck them very slowly, or crunch them very fast

              Eat that candy coated chocolate but tell me when I ask –

              When you eat your smarties, do you eat the red ones last? J

I have no recollection of red smarties being tastier than the other colored ones, do you? But somehow this marketing tactic elevated the sales of this candy, playing on the assumption that ‘saving the best for last’ is alluring.  This ditty consumed my mind last Saturday as we were driving to the ‘last’ of our division and district visits. Gusii is one of our smaller regions with just eight corps comprising the District. It’s a four and a half hour drive from Kakamega so we travelled on Friday in order to be in the area for the Saturday morning Councils. When the leaders met us, we were informed the venue the next morning was the Kenguso corps which would be an hour’s drive, giving us the opportunity to see another side of the area. We were happy with the plan.

To our pleasant surprise, this one hour drive had amazing scenery, some of the prettiest we had seen in the country.  It’s an area called the Tea Zone. After leaving the town where our hotel was, and manoeuvering past the congested business area, we couldn’t stop gazing out the window.  The Kenguso Corps was located up in the mountains, so we were climbing higher and higher with each mile. The elevation gave us a spectacular bird’s eye view of so many sloping hills peppered with lush green tea plantations. Tea and coffee are the two main products grown in the area and the fields were so ripe.  Many areas in the country, like this one, have been blessed with rains this year during the hot, dry season. With our windows down, we could feel the freshness that had resulted from recent precipitation.

Most of the journey was on tarmac (paved) road, except for the last 10 km.  The rough gravel road had absolutely no negative impact on our drive though because the landscape and stunning view captured our gaze right to the end. The only thing any better than the gorgeous terrain was the delightful welcome we received at the corps compound.  Usually when we show up for these Councils, the Officers and sometimes local officers greet us but today the yard was filled not just with the adults but with dozens of children!  These beautiful energetic young people were waving, singing, clapping, playing tambourines, and shouting “Karibu Sana” (welcome so much!) as we drove onto the grounds. Our hearts were full.  We exited the car where a pretty little girl named Rose Mary held out her hand with a bouquet of flowers and said “Welcome to Kenguso!”

Following the lovely welcome, we were ushered to one side where both of us planted a tree – something we love doing.  Our newly rooted shrubs were embedded next to some growing trees planted a few years ago by the former Territorial leaders, Commissioners Ken & Jolene Hodder, a rich environmental tradition for leaders. 

We spent the morning teaching and sharing with the local leaders on the idea of ‘Mobilizing Forward’, a continuation of last year’s international focus on what it means to ‘mobilize’.  We based our theory on various Biblical perspectives of advancing into the future, willing to make necessary changes, take godly courage, and never forget our attention to the mission.  Morris led an interactive time of understanding the purposes and membership of Pastoral Care Councils and Corps Councils and the need to work together. The attendees were quite engaging with lots of questions.  The amusing part of the meeting was the children peering through the windows or standing in the open door way, watching the mzungu (white man) teacher.  A few made their way inside and sat at the back – quite acceptable since they are future PCC members after all.  We ended the Councils with a time of prayer and then moved outside for a group photo, including the children.

Assuming we were done what was planned for the day, we stood around chatting. Before long, we were invited to see the Secondary School adjacent to the Corps. Since we always love school visits, we gladly agreed and walked across the field. The principal and Board of Management director met with us to share their concerns for the 142 students who attend the school and the need for upgrading with boarding dormitories.  Boarding is always seen as the better way of giving students optimal learning time and a more progressive environment to focus on their studies. As we emerged from the high school visit, we heard the sound of children’s voices singing again. Delightful!  It was the Primary School students, just a short distance away, eager to have us see their facility too. With the children gleefully leading the way, we trekked up the rocky path.  Here the faculty shared how desperately this school needs support for access to clean water as well as their desire to construct a unit for children with disabilities, much needed in the area. The water issue was definitely an eminent one. Currently the primary students walk 2 ½ km each way to a water source every day.  They longed for some on site water tanks and eventually their own bore hole. As always, we couldn’t make any promises but the staff were encouraged to put their needs in writing and we would see what could be done. Perhaps getting some water tanks could be possible in the near future.

Outside the staff room, the students were eagerly waiting to entertain us with more singing as they waited for us to chat with them.  After some greetings, they followed us to the edge of the compound with more happy tunes, one of which was interpreted to us as: “The visitors have such beautiful hair!” We laughed so hard!  

What a glorious day this had turned out to be.  Perhaps not unlike eating red smarties at the end of the pack, this final District visit was definitely a sweet treat. 

Kenguso Primary School Visit

Leaders and future leaders in the Gusii District 

Justice and safety

Justice and safety

It was a typical warm Kenya evening. The temperatures had dropped slightly. Sitting outside for our evening meal was quite enjoyable. We recently moved a small table to our front deck to take full advantage of savoring time in the setting sun. Shaded perfectly by the tall trees in the garden, this open-air dining room is a pretty sweet spot.  Steeping tea in the ceramic teapot we found in the quarters is now our favourite way of sipping our after-dinner brew, along with indulging in some of my homemade oatmeal cookies for dessert. We truly love the quietness after a busy day at the office.

Not long after the last drop of tea was gone, we started to do some reading. Lots of evenings we have work to catch up on but tonight we were happy to have space for one of our favourite pastimes. Erica had just given Morris a new book for his birthday, called “When breath becomes air”. He was taken by the true story of a neuro surgeon who became a patient, battling a life-threatening lung disease.  He decided to enjoy more of the evening outside while he read. I had begun an intriguing read by Amanda Lang, a Canadian journalist, called “The Beauty of Discomfort”. The first chapter tweaked my interest and I was eager to continue. Shortly after we got lost in our books, we heard it.  Bang. Bang. Bang. Stop. Then again. This time even more. What was that? It couldn’t be fireworks.  Gunfire?  Feeling some of his own discomfort, Morris came inside where I was.  The shots were loud and sounded close, though we knew it must be outside the gate.  Where was this coming from? And why? 

A few days earlier, the country’s political situation had been disturbed again when the Opposition leader, Mr. Raila Odinga, was illegally ‘sworn in’ as the ‘People’s President’.  There didn’t seem to be a lot of fallout, for which everyone gave a sigh of relief. However, we knew that earlier in the day, riots had erupted in two areas of the country – Kisumu and Migori. Was it possible that Kakamega was now being affected by violence too? We had prayed for peace many times over the past year, because of the unsettled atmosphere of unrest due to the government elections. It felt like we were being called to pray again. We contacted some friends who we knew would join us in seeking God’s protection.

Naturally feeling unsettled about the noise, we hurried next door to talk to our neighbors.  They were also intrigued by the sounds of the shooting and as baffled as we were about the source. The noise we assumed was gunfire lasted nearly an hour, til finally the commotion dissipating into the distance.  No one on the grounds seemed to know what had happened, not even the guards.  Eventually we went to bed with the familiar breath prayers - “Safety Lord. Please keep us all safe.”

The following day we were enlightened. The commotion we heard the night before was gun shots. In a neighborhood not far from Shimalavandu, our compound, a large group of people in the community had taken the law into their own hands. Apparently a family in the area had been causing a lot of chaos for a long time. Fear was escalating for the neighbors as fighting and violence (even killings) were going on and the police had not responded to the constant complaints of those feeling traumatized.   Acting as vigilantes, a community uprising ensued. The family was driven out of the area and their house burned to the ground.  The gunfire we heard was the police responding to the mutiny.  As emotions soared out of control, the crowd became unruly and the shots were fired into the air to manage the disturbance and move the people out.

It was with mixed feelings that we heard what had happened.  Thankful that political unrest was not the cause of the disturbance, what had occurred was still unsettling.  Where was justice? What measures have to be taken to ensure people are safe? What recourse did the community have?  When those trusted to protect the community do not fulfill their duty, what options are there? AND if everyone became their own law enforcer, how would order and safety ever be present or reliable? Imagine the chaos that would bring. So, what happens when victims feel they have no voice, no advocate?  When does the end justify the means? Are there more questions than answers?   

In any community or country, peace and safety can only come when there is a trustworthy and organized system of the administration of justice.  Around the globe, we long for country officials and community leaders to be men and women of integrity and reliability. We desire governments and law enforcers who are dependable and who work for the welfare and democratic rights of all citizens, shaping a just world for everyone. Unfortunately this desired ideal is sometimes out of reach and often that means many people suffer.

Morris and I have felt very safe living in Kenya. We have had almost no fear of being hurt but we aware that there are those around us who have been adversely affected by violence – some just because they’ve been in the wrong place at the wrong time, others because they chose to be involved. This is not unique to Kenya.

Like many of you, I long for the day when all people live together in harmony, and safety and justice truly becomes everyone’s right.

The well is deep

February 09, 2018

The well is deep

With a long rope, she lowered the 15 litre yellow plastic container further and further down into the well.  The concrete platform veiled the depth of the cistern that she and many neighbors around the church compound used to retrieve water.  We had just arrived for Officers Councils in the Webuye Division, about an hour’s drive from Kakamega, when I saw this beautiful girl carrying out her daily chores. Her name was Gloria.  I was curious and, with permission, peered into the yawning reservoir.  Surprisingly for me, though without cause, the water appeared far below the surface.  It had been a while since I stared into a well.  As this slender young girl gently pulled back her vessel, hand over hand, up to the surface, I marvelled at the sight of the crystal clear contents spilling out.  I was delighted to see the water wasn’t cloudy but unsure if what looked pure actually was. Did the water still need to be filtered and boiled before consumption?  Likely. 

Water is a priceless commodity.  Being susceptible to disease or merely staying alive is greatly affected by access to clean drinking water. There are more than 780 million people around the world (over 300 million in Sub-Saharan Africa) who are without access to safe water. In 2010, the United Nations General Assembly recognized the human right to clean water and sanitation, which are essential to the realisation of all human rights and still so many live without it.  It’s staggering. For years, I know I have taken for granted that I routinely reach to turn the tap in the bathroom or kitchen sink and there it is, accessible and abundant but this is not the case for everyone. For many, it doesn’t happen at all. For others, like my young friend, it is a daily laborious task to have what is critical for survival.  This girl had to literally ‘go deep’ to retrieve what she needed for herself and her family. It took effort.

Sometimes what we need (or want) most in life isn’t easily attained.  While we believe the Creator God meets our needs, it can require our cooperation or it can be dependent on the partnership of others.  It can mean labour, endurance, and strategy as well as a willingness to keep going when circumstances are tough and the hope that someday things will be better.  

Hundreds of years ago, another woman found water at a well when she needed it most. Her name was Hagar and her story is found in the Bible. She was a loyal employee (a servant) but she was despised and treated badly.  Though possibly not innocent in the conflict, she was in many ways, a victim of injustice. She became a fugitive, running aimlessly into a dry, barren dessert but amazingly found herself near a spring where she not only found water, but an angel appeared and gave her hope (Genesis 16).  Sometime later Hagar has a son and once again she is ‘sent away’, this time with a small child and limited resources to survive on.  When the supplies are quickly depleted, Hagar draws her crying son to her breast, seeking to console her hungry boy. In her sunken despair, she cries out to God and for a second time, water appears (Genesis 21:17-21). Hagar declares a beautiful name for the Creator. “You are the God who sees me” Genesis 16:13.  A spring in the desert, water from a well, and hope is renewed.

We are so dependent on water. Before the first breath of life is taken, it is a form of water (the amniotic sac) that protects the fetus, allowing a baby to develop.  At the end of life, water is often the final physical requirement. It brings and sustains life and it is a right for all of us to have.  

It is not coincidental that the symbol of our Christian salvation is also water.  Similar to my chance meeting with Gloira in Webuye, Jesus had an unplanned conversation with a woman at a well, and says to her: “look to me and I will give you life-giving water … everyone who drinks normal everyday water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give, will never thirst” (John 4:10 & 14 – my paraphrase).

How can we help others have access to the water they need? The annual Partners in Mission campaign in Canada as well as the Gifts of Hope initiatives provide a great opportunity for you to give so that The Salvation Army can help provide such life essentials as water (and other basics) to dispense hope around the world.  As quoted in one of this year’s PIM videos:  Hope is giving someone a reason to expect something better for tomorrow and in the future.  

Two days ago we received an email form an Officer friend with an offer from a non-Salvationist  to provide funds to construct a well in Kenya.  We were so grateful.  We know not everyone has resources to provide such large amounts of money for big projects but never forget that every small contribution helps. 

When you reach for your tap today, or when you flush your toilet, take a moment to be thankful. And whenever you know there is an opportunity to support helping provide safe drinking water to those in the world who are without it, think deeply about what you can do and then act.

Whether it is physical or spiritual water, I pray that someday everyone will have access and drink freely.

Song # 430, Salvation Army Song Book

“The well is deep and I require a draught of the water of life.

But none can quench my soul’s desire

For a draught of the water of life.

Till one draws near who the cry will heed,

Helper of men in their time of need

And I believing find indeed

That Christ is the water of life.”

Enjoy your H2O today. J