Ryan and I

Checking in at Jomo Kenyatta international airport, I reach into my wallet to pull out my Kenyan resident identification card. I am caught by the glint of a ring on my finger reminding me that I am two weeks away from marrying a man far more wonderful than I could have imagined.

Suddenly I am dizzy and wonder at it all. How did I get here?

I suppose we all ask the same questions, though our circumstances differ. Perhaps you, like myself, continue to find that it is the questioning and reflection that has led to growth.

When it felt like all my plans had fallen apart two years ago, how could i have anticipated what growth and healing and joy I would find in moving to Kenya to work with short term teams? Of course I knew I would be changed, but this is not the shape I would have imagined. And now, looking at my face in my I.D. card, I look next to me at the man I am with, and am easily overwhelmed with the thankfulness that I would like to cultivate in all circumstances.
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When driving in Kenya: Nine ways to interpret flashing lights

A friend recently blogged about what it means to honk when driving in Cambodia.

Which got me thinking – there are quite a few things about life in Nairobi that I’m sure would seem strange to the visitor. Well, that do seem strange to visitors. Things that are very probably communicating something other than what the sender intended, simply because there are too many options of meaning to choose.

Like flashing lights.

Here are at least nine ways to interpret flashing headlights.

1. “Please let me pass, I want to turn against on-coming traffic, and no one will let me go.”

2. “I am turning into oncoming traffic – let me through now.”

3. “Yes, you can turn in front of me from on-coming traffic and pass through my lane.”

4. “Fine, I will let you turn in front of me. Just go quick.”

5. “Police check ahead – slow down!”

6. “Your lights are off.”

7.  ”Hello, I am here – please stay in your lane.”

8. (prompted by the roommate) “Your brights are obnoxious, I can’t see where I’m going.”

9. “something in swahili”  or at least it must be, because I have no idea why they are flashing their lights at me.

A deep rumble: the process of blog writing and learning to see

It all begins with seeing.

Children mount the stairs, backpacks ready, checkered dresses touch the floor on young ones on their very first day of school.

Parents crowd the front of the school eager to hear where their recent class 8 graduate will be attending high school.

Big blue trunks are piled high in the church hall. Trunks filled with the precious possesions for each Joska student: dettol, sweaters, pens and Kasuku writing books.

New school year. New students. New…

African Fine

We host a lot of teams at Missions of Hope. Work teams, vision teams, individuals, organizations. We prepare for many of them. And some show up unexpected. It’s Kenya. It’s culture. It’s fine.

Two weeks ago, two life-long friends came to visit me from the States. Best gift of the year.

While chatting about the last year of life, we talked about something that they had recently talked about in their young married group. The four-letter word in marriage.

An obscene and profane title: cancer, poverty and some honest thoughts about hope

I’ve wrestled with the title of this blog. A figurative sort of wrestling, of course. Any writer knows how words, and stories, can take a life of their own. And, in times like these, writing tends to be more for the writer, than for the reader.

A few weeks ago I heard a sermon on the Kingdom of God. There were two columns. On the left, all of the qualities of the Kingdom of God. On the right, all of the qualities of the kingdom of darkness.

Simple, right?

Maybe if we know what it’s like on the left.

Tags: cancer, Jesus, poverty, suffering

Third-person in the third-world: Observations and suggestions for journalists, photographers, writers, and other story-tellers.

There are some things that you feel responsible after learning. Something about an experience that calls you to to action. To respond. And as you choose to obey or ignore this inner compulsion, you are changed in the process. You grow. You develop.

Sometimes you discover something and want to share it with as many people as possible. Why are we not writing to the Daily Nation, and sharing all that is happening every day in the Mathare Valley and beyond? Over time, I have come to be a bit more cynical of the media, not because of it’s politics and corruption, but because of it’s angle. It’s perspective.

It’s very nature makes it unable to tell the complete story.

Tags: developing world, journalism, Kenya, Nairobi, third-world reporting, writing

The “M” word

A shot of my first time serving briefly inter-culturally: Chile 2005

While in college, I learned to remove it from my vocabulary. It was replaced by all sorts of vernacular to refer to those serving overseas. I learned to take out all sorts of language that could be interpreted as something potentially dangerous to those involved in sharing about my Father.

If you have not grown up in a Christian environment, this could seem very strange. My language and descriptions may appear cryptic and peculiar. In part, it’s because they are.