Friday, February 29, 2008
Friday, February 8, 2008
Kenya Journal #7: The End of the Mission
Today is the last day of this Kenya mission. I have scheduled this day very full, cognizant of all of the mental, spiritual, and emotional processing I will have to do upon my return to the USA . The needs of Kenyans press upon me, and I pray that I have wisely chosen those concerns and issues which are of most significance.
Gwadhimu Internally Displaced Persons (IDP’s) Red Cross Camp, Limuru Town
As the Director of Wayland Baptist University’s Kenya Program, I have decided to ask our Wayland Kenya students to participate in a hands-on mission project at the IDP camp nearest the campus of Kenya Baptist Theological College . These students have been selected because they are either Baptist leaders already, or because they demonstrate potential leadership skills for the work of the Kingdom of God in this vast nation. Dr Ashley, Linus Kirimi, and I have already been to the camp twice, seeking approval for our students’ mission, and ascertaining the most pressing presenting needs of these individuals.
Luke Loetscher, WBU Plainview senior, has organized a joint chapel service, Plainview-Kenya, for the evening ( Kenya time) of Wednesday, January 30th. I have asked two of our students, Franciska Makusu and Gerishom Kadiri, to tell their stories to the students, faculty, administration, and staff of WBU, plus others from the wider Plainview community. I have asked Harun Miatu to lead all of our students in a time of prayer. Don Ashley and Charles Mbugua, WBU Kenya’s IT manager, work diligently to make this combined chapel service work, from the side of technology. I consider the message that will communicate most effectively and relevantly to American university students.
Although there are numerous minor technological glitches, the chapel service proceeds. The Wayland Plainview community donates more than $3000 to the persons residing at the Red Cross camp in Limuru Town . I receive reports from those present in Harral Memorial Auditorium in Plainview that although there were some problems with the video feed, the American students were more settled and attentive than in times past. Dr Vaugh Ross, the man who established this degree program in Kenya , and now chair of the Division of Math and Sciences, sends me a message that he has never felt the Holy Spirit be so present as during the “Kenya Chapel.”
I plan to buy food, bedding, and women’s personal items for the 650 people present in the camp. Mbugua, Don, and I head to the storefront shops in Limuru to negotiate the purchase of these items. Charles, a native Kenyan Kikuyu, is an expert bargainer, wrangling back and forth with shop owners, in a strange mix of Swahili, Kikuyu, and English. As a price is distilled from the almost polemical bouts, Charles addresses me in English, with shop owners waiting impatiently for a sale. The prices and quantities seem reasonable to me, and payment is made. We head for the open air market, where we negotiate the purchase of whole kernel maize, beans, flour, and sugar—all staples of a Kenyan diet.
We head back to our campus, and find our students waiting for us, eager to engage in mission. We pray together, asking the LORD to guide and bless our words, our actions, and our movements. This is a first for these students; none can remember serving the needs of IDP’s before. I notice anxiety, hesitancy—what will they confront in the camp?
We arrive at the Gwadhimu Red Cross Camp, and much to our dismay, the numbers of persons now seeking refuge at the camp has swelled to over 4000, according to the head chaplain, Daniel Kenyua. Our students enter the gate, and turn to each other, asking, “Is this our country?” “Are these Kenyan people?” I encourage them to engage these other Kenyans in conversation, to listen to their stories, to counsel, and to be the presence of Christ. After a bit of encouragement, the students scatter.
I find a man eating from a metal plate of white rice and sukumawiki, a native Kenyan collard green-type dish. He eats with his hands, eagerly downing the plateful of food. One of the Kenyan student pastors, Japheth Wekesa Wetoto, trails along beside me. I ask Japheth to translate for me. Almost relieved, the young man agrees.
The man is Joseph, a Kikuyu from the town of Narok . 55 years old, with one wife and three children, Joseph looks tired, thin, and without hope. Born and raised a Kikuyu in the Maasai majority city, Joseph’s home and shop have been burned in an act of ethnic cleansing. The family has been here at Gwadhimu Red Cross Camp for more than one week. Joseph instructs me that the men in the camp sleep in one area; the women and children sleep in another. In this way, many problems are averted. The Kikuyu man is thankful for the good food provided in the camp, and that his family is safe and secure here.
In my foolish naiveté, I ask Joseph, “When do you anticipate returning to your city?”
“How can I return?” Joseph asks me through the translator Japheth. “My wife, my children, and I have been threatened with our lives if we ever return to Narok. “My house and my shop are gone.” “I have a large debt for my shop and all the goods I wanted to sell.” “All I have ever known is that town.”
“Where will you go?” I query.
Another man passes by the large group that has gathered around us, and hears my question.
“Only God knows,” he shouts.
I ask Joseph through Japheth, “May I pray for you?” The bloodshot eyes look at me before the answer is given, “Yes, please.” I pause for a moment, not sure how to pray. The man waits, expectantly. He grabs my hands, and pulls me toward him. I sense the Spirit guide me as I ask the Triune God to comfort this man, to provide for his family, and to give him hope.
http://richardandmarthashaw.blogspot.com
Worship and Evangelization at Gwadhimu
Our Wayland Kenya students gather to lead a time of worship and evangelization at the center of the Gwadhimu Camp. Lively singing, clapping, and movement attract many of the residents. I notice the distraught faces of many men and women as they gather, standing. The energy of the blaring music and boisterous community seems to transform expressions of hopelessness into a respite of joy, if only for a brief time.
The children throng around Don Ashley and me. They feel our arms and hands, pulling the hair on our arms. I look quizzically at Francis Midega, one of our student pastors standing next to me. “They have never seen a muzungu up close,” Francis explains. “They want to see if you are human, like they.” I am intrigued by what the student pastor has told me. I realize that Don and I are the only white faces among 4000 beautiful black ones, and for a moment, I am caught up in a sense of euphoric worship and community, as hundreds of Kenyans sing, clap, and move around me. I look up, gaze at the blue sky above me, and am engulfed by emotion. Perhaps this is what it will be like, standing before the throne of Jesus, with peoples of all nations and all tongues praising God.
Harun Miatu, a passionate preacher, delivers a brief, but powerful sermon. As he finishes, several persons move to the front of the human circle. I watch as this tall, lanky, mustachioed Kenyan embraces them, and prays.
At the close of the worship service and evangelization, Charles Mbugua, who is leading this event, tells the children that the white men have candy for all of them. Don and I are mobbed by hundreds of children (and some adults) reaching out for “sweets,” as the British say.
The End of the Mission
After the students, Don, and I have distributed the food, the mattresses, blankets, medications, and candy, we gather, and head back to campus. This mission is nearing the end, as our return flights are only hours away. Don and I will return to places and lives of material abundance, blessed beyond measure, far more than we will ever deserve. In 36 hours, we will rejoin our wives and children, and return to the comforts and accoutrements of American life (the Super Bowl is only two days away!) We will leave these precious souls behind, many, like Joseph, having nowhere to turn, and nowhere to go. Their possessions and livelihoods now gone, they are clueless as to what to do.
But, as I have discovered among Albanians and Bosnians, who, like these Kenyans, have lost it all, God has graced people with a tremendous will and strength to survive. National crises impact individual lives at the most intimate level, but the resilience of the human spirit is most often stronger. It has been my privilege to walk among these God-fearing people, if even for three short weeks, and I come away far better for it. My humble prayer is that they do to.
I appreciate your every prayer and thought.
Christ’s power and peace
Rick
Gwadhimu Internally Displaced Persons (IDP’s) Red Cross Camp, Limuru Town
As the Director of Wayland Baptist University’s Kenya Program, I have decided to ask our Wayland Kenya students to participate in a hands-on mission project at the IDP camp nearest the campus of Kenya Baptist Theological College . These students have been selected because they are either Baptist leaders already, or because they demonstrate potential leadership skills for the work of the Kingdom of God in this vast nation. Dr Ashley, Linus Kirimi, and I have already been to the camp twice, seeking approval for our students’ mission, and ascertaining the most pressing presenting needs of these individuals.
Luke Loetscher, WBU Plainview senior, has organized a joint chapel service, Plainview-Kenya, for the evening ( Kenya time) of Wednesday, January 30th. I have asked two of our students, Franciska Makusu and Gerishom Kadiri, to tell their stories to the students, faculty, administration, and staff of WBU, plus others from the wider Plainview community. I have asked Harun Miatu to lead all of our students in a time of prayer. Don Ashley and Charles Mbugua, WBU Kenya’s IT manager, work diligently to make this combined chapel service work, from the side of technology. I consider the message that will communicate most effectively and relevantly to American university students.
Although there are numerous minor technological glitches, the chapel service proceeds. The Wayland Plainview community donates more than $3000 to the persons residing at the Red Cross camp in Limuru Town . I receive reports from those present in Harral Memorial Auditorium in Plainview that although there were some problems with the video feed, the American students were more settled and attentive than in times past. Dr Vaugh Ross, the man who established this degree program in Kenya , and now chair of the Division of Math and Sciences, sends me a message that he has never felt the Holy Spirit be so present as during the “Kenya Chapel.”
I plan to buy food, bedding, and women’s personal items for the 650 people present in the camp. Mbugua, Don, and I head to the storefront shops in Limuru to negotiate the purchase of these items. Charles, a native Kenyan Kikuyu, is an expert bargainer, wrangling back and forth with shop owners, in a strange mix of Swahili, Kikuyu, and English. As a price is distilled from the almost polemical bouts, Charles addresses me in English, with shop owners waiting impatiently for a sale. The prices and quantities seem reasonable to me, and payment is made. We head for the open air market, where we negotiate the purchase of whole kernel maize, beans, flour, and sugar—all staples of a Kenyan diet.
We head back to our campus, and find our students waiting for us, eager to engage in mission. We pray together, asking the LORD to guide and bless our words, our actions, and our movements. This is a first for these students; none can remember serving the needs of IDP’s before. I notice anxiety, hesitancy—what will they confront in the camp?
We arrive at the Gwadhimu Red Cross Camp, and much to our dismay, the numbers of persons now seeking refuge at the camp has swelled to over 4000, according to the head chaplain, Daniel Kenyua. Our students enter the gate, and turn to each other, asking, “Is this our country?” “Are these Kenyan people?” I encourage them to engage these other Kenyans in conversation, to listen to their stories, to counsel, and to be the presence of Christ. After a bit of encouragement, the students scatter.
I find a man eating from a metal plate of white rice and sukumawiki, a native Kenyan collard green-type dish. He eats with his hands, eagerly downing the plateful of food. One of the Kenyan student pastors, Japheth Wekesa Wetoto, trails along beside me. I ask Japheth to translate for me. Almost relieved, the young man agrees.
The man is Joseph, a Kikuyu from the town of Narok . 55 years old, with one wife and three children, Joseph looks tired, thin, and without hope. Born and raised a Kikuyu in the Maasai majority city, Joseph’s home and shop have been burned in an act of ethnic cleansing. The family has been here at Gwadhimu Red Cross Camp for more than one week. Joseph instructs me that the men in the camp sleep in one area; the women and children sleep in another. In this way, many problems are averted. The Kikuyu man is thankful for the good food provided in the camp, and that his family is safe and secure here.
In my foolish naiveté, I ask Joseph, “When do you anticipate returning to your city?”
“How can I return?” Joseph asks me through the translator Japheth. “My wife, my children, and I have been threatened with our lives if we ever return to Narok. “My house and my shop are gone.” “I have a large debt for my shop and all the goods I wanted to sell.” “All I have ever known is that town.”
“Where will you go?” I query.
Another man passes by the large group that has gathered around us, and hears my question.
“Only God knows,” he shouts.
I ask Joseph through Japheth, “May I pray for you?” The bloodshot eyes look at me before the answer is given, “Yes, please.” I pause for a moment, not sure how to pray. The man waits, expectantly. He grabs my hands, and pulls me toward him. I sense the Spirit guide me as I ask the Triune God to comfort this man, to provide for his family, and to give him hope.
http://richardandmarthashaw.blogspot.com
Worship and Evangelization at Gwadhimu
Our Wayland Kenya students gather to lead a time of worship and evangelization at the center of the Gwadhimu Camp. Lively singing, clapping, and movement attract many of the residents. I notice the distraught faces of many men and women as they gather, standing. The energy of the blaring music and boisterous community seems to transform expressions of hopelessness into a respite of joy, if only for a brief time.
The children throng around Don Ashley and me. They feel our arms and hands, pulling the hair on our arms. I look quizzically at Francis Midega, one of our student pastors standing next to me. “They have never seen a muzungu up close,” Francis explains. “They want to see if you are human, like they.” I am intrigued by what the student pastor has told me. I realize that Don and I are the only white faces among 4000 beautiful black ones, and for a moment, I am caught up in a sense of euphoric worship and community, as hundreds of Kenyans sing, clap, and move around me. I look up, gaze at the blue sky above me, and am engulfed by emotion. Perhaps this is what it will be like, standing before the throne of Jesus, with peoples of all nations and all tongues praising God.
Harun Miatu, a passionate preacher, delivers a brief, but powerful sermon. As he finishes, several persons move to the front of the human circle. I watch as this tall, lanky, mustachioed Kenyan embraces them, and prays.
At the close of the worship service and evangelization, Charles Mbugua, who is leading this event, tells the children that the white men have candy for all of them. Don and I are mobbed by hundreds of children (and some adults) reaching out for “sweets,” as the British say.
The End of the Mission
After the students, Don, and I have distributed the food, the mattresses, blankets, medications, and candy, we gather, and head back to campus. This mission is nearing the end, as our return flights are only hours away. Don and I will return to places and lives of material abundance, blessed beyond measure, far more than we will ever deserve. In 36 hours, we will rejoin our wives and children, and return to the comforts and accoutrements of American life (the Super Bowl is only two days away!) We will leave these precious souls behind, many, like Joseph, having nowhere to turn, and nowhere to go. Their possessions and livelihoods now gone, they are clueless as to what to do.
But, as I have discovered among Albanians and Bosnians, who, like these Kenyans, have lost it all, God has graced people with a tremendous will and strength to survive. National crises impact individual lives at the most intimate level, but the resilience of the human spirit is most often stronger. It has been my privilege to walk among these God-fearing people, if even for three short weeks, and I come away far better for it. My humble prayer is that they do to.
I appreciate your every prayer and thought.
Christ’s power and peace
Rick
Monday, February 4, 2008
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