"Sovereign"

As I am writing, I am in a van stuck in a traffic jam at the top of the Rift Valley.  If you're thinking it's a strange place for a traffic jam, I agree wholeheartedly with you! But I must say it is quite picturesque!  Before this hold up, we were slamming on the breaks for baboons crossing the road.  The mountains are beautiful and the sky breathtaking, and even Mr. Bennet in the front passenger seat is clucking with contentment!  But it's hard to gaze out the window and wonder if I'll ever see this place again! 

Phillip

Brian

This week flew by as I knew it would!  On Tuesday I worked at the school, but this time in a very different role -- school photographer!  I set up my camera and tripod and a wooden chair a few feet outside the school.  Taylor and Ashley helped me call out the children one by one, straighten their crooked collars, and put their little hands in their laps.  Then I would smile and say "CHEKA!" (smile!) And If that didn't prove effective, I called in the tickle expert Taylor.  Brian (pictured left) was so excited he didn't stop giggling from the time he left the classroom to the time he returned.  My little friend Phillip smiled from ear to ear; but I noticed that his picture somehow wasn't quite complete.  At recess the children play with old tires, and Phillip and his tire are inseparable!  So we took a few more.  Note the picture on the right :)

Meeting Ed

On Wednesday and Thursday, we went with our NGOs Ann and Peter on more foster child school visits. Peter would always remind us that the key to good work is FLEXIBILITY! - a deviation from the schedule nearly always arises!  Case in point: one school boy was sick so we visited his home, another boy needed to be driven to the clinic for medicine, and we learned upon arriving at another school that our foster boy had run away!  And we were the first to discover him missing.  Despite all of these "surprises", school visits have been both meaningful and unforgettable.  At one school, we met our foster child Ed. When his parents passed away he went to live with his brother, who lived adjacent to Ed's school.  But his brother beat him and Ed was forced to move to his sister's house, which is a two hour walk away from school!  Poor Ed sets out every morning for his long walk without breakfast.  But what is really humbling…upon meeting joyful Ed you would never imagine the daily challenges he faces.

New Hat :)

When Friday, the "Dreaded Day" arrived, we woke up early (as we couldn't really sleep with such a sad day ahead) and toted all of our humanitarian aid items to the Buckner office for sorting. Then we headed to the school where we played and played with the children!  The only class held on Friday was religion where I taught the story of Samuel and God calling to him in the night.  Again, it seems that the main characters' names "Samuel" and "Eli" are pronounced a little differently here! :P Then we sang "Jesus Loves Me" for the last time and the children happily received the bracelets that my Aunt Sissy and her friends in Texas knit for them.  After lunch we sucked on lollipops, took pictures, and gave each child their "departure gift" (we gave each a clothing article from our humanitarian aid).  My favorite gift was the monkey hat for Nelvine.  Her green hat, which she wears daily, is unraveling; she was quite pleased with her new one!  We gathered the children and took one last photo.  And then we had to say good-bye.  It was so sad…Teacher JoAn says that although we explained we must leave, the children will probably still expect next week :(  What was also sad -- my little friend Abigael was not at school!  Ann let us stop by Abigael's house after school but no one was home. So I hoped we would try again Saturday.

Saturday was crazy running to the clinic, squeezing in a few more foster home visits, and to my delight, another attempt at seeing Abigael.  After walking down a dirt trail and emerging from the brush at her house, I froze at the scene before my eyes.  Abigael was sprawled on the dirt.  Peter pointed to where she had just vomited.  Her little siblings and cousins just stood staring helplessly at her.  Peter learned her dad was in another city and her mother was gone for the entire day.  Her grandfather talked to Ann and Peter, but said that even if they could see a doctor, they had no money for a lab test or medicine.  I knelt down and patted Abigael and gave her water from Susan's bottle as she cried "maji, maji!" (water!).  Her sister brought her an old sugar bag to lay on, and we put her in the little red coat, the size for an 18th month old, that she had missed receiving at school the day before.  I asked Ann if Gladys could help, so we climbed in the van and bounced along the bumpy road to the clinic.  I held Abigael tightly as she got her finger pricked, and upon the test indicating she had significant amounts of malaria in her blood, a shot in her bottom too.  Gladys prescribed medicine, then we drove Abigael and her grandfather back home.  By the side of the dirt road I said good-bye to the big, hurting eyes of a too tiny five-year old in a little red jacket.  Then I got in the van and for the first time this trip, I cried.

Waiting at the clinic

There is a sign in the Buckner office that says, "Lord grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."  I don't understand everything -- why some are blessed with abundant food and a loving family and others none at all.  Or the intricacies of African culture and government and the international problem of "hunger".  But I do know God allowed me to come here in this season of my life and meet little Abigael in this season of hers.  One of my favorite songs says, "After All, [God] is Constant, Good, and Sovereign" -- over my life, over Abigael's and friend that is reading this, over yours too.  Driving away, I thought of how God has recently revealed His Sovereignty to me.  Saturday, it was my time in Busia ending with my two worlds colliding: humble and awe-inspiring Gladys saving the life of my dear little Kenyan friend.

Saturday afternoon, as we visited our last foster child, we drove past the road leading to Abigael's house.  A group of children emerged from the road, running behind the van and yelling "Mzungu"! And behind them I caught a glimpse of a little child in a red coat, scampering along behind them.  

Yes - God is Sovereign.  Yes - His timing is perfect.  Yes - it is time to leave Busia (though i say so with a BIG frown :( )  And yes - it was Abigael.  As we drive back to Nairobi and spend our last few days there, I am so very sad.  But I know that I was here in this season for a reason.  And while I can't see the future, I leave Busia with the peace that our Sovereign God can.