Christmas Music

I love Christmas.

I think perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I’m named for my grandmother, Joann, who was a major Christmas fan as well but that's beside the point.

The point, ladies and gentlemen, is that I put on Christmas music when it is not socially acceptable to do so.

September.

June.

March.

February.

Whenever.

And before you get all judgey on me and tell me how I’ll wreck my taste for Christmas music let me explain. I love Christmas and Christmas music because it’s good news.

I need good news. I need a story to cling to, a concept to put my hopes on when I come home feeling emotionally and physically exhausted. Babies keep dying, being abandoned, losing limbs. Story after story of sad and hurt. That’s life in a fallen world anywhere. There is pain here too deep to be fixed with band-aids and platitudes. We need something deeper.

We need Christmas.

Not Santa Claus.

Not Rudolph.

Not Baby it’s Cold Outside.

The Incarnation. Christ coming to us and becoming the God-Man. 100% of each in some deep and wonderful way that I don’t understand.

I need the promise that HE was here. That HE walked our dust. That HE was temptemted in every way. That HE came and suffered for us. That HE loved us enough to come. That HE loves the babies who are abandoned, who die, who lose limbs, who are healthy, who are somewhere in between.

I think that’s why I love the book of Hebrews. Over and over again the writer stresses that Jesus came and was a worthy sacrifice. A worthy high priest. He could give as no one else could because only his sacrifice could make full and lasting atonement for the sins of the people.

I know that that’s all properly classified as theology. And I know that I can read it in Hebrews. And I do. A lot.

But then again I’m a human and I think God put a couple of desires in our hearts that explain why Christmas and Christmas music are so important to me.

First, we need music as people. Something wells up deep within us as we listen. I don’t know why. The neuroscientists are working on it but if I had to guess it is because God birthed in us a love of beauty and creativity. He himself loves music, that’s why it surrounds his throne in Revelation. And we are in his image so it follows that we too would love melody and harmony, verse and chorus.

Secondly, we need a mechanism to remember. God didn’t plan feasts just for kicks. I think he gave his people days to stop and remember because we are very easily distracted. I’m a very forgetful person. I don’t remember well on my own.  So I rely on lists in the short term. But in the long term, I need to remind me of who God is and what he has done. In the short term that’s time in the scriptures, etc. Long term, though, I think that’s why we need Easter, Christmas, Passover, and Purim. We need them to remember what God did.

And that is why I love Christmas music. The festivities are great and the music does remind me of precious times with family and friends but I need to stop and remember and music helps me do that. If a little holiday cheer is a bonus, well, I’m not going to complain.

You also should wash one another's feet.

Yesterday I got to go to an orphanage for the first time since I've been back in Kenya. It's called Bosto Children's Home and is run by the African Gospel Church, which is the denomination we are affiliated with at Tenwek.

In John chapter 13 Jesus and his disciples have gone up the the "upper room" or guest room in a house in Jerusalem to have the Passover meal together. Jesus knew that he was going to be killed and rise again and that this was his last night with all 12 of his disciples. He also knew that "he had come from God and was returning to God." And so, the scripture says, in light of all of that he took a towel and washed each of his disciples feet. In the first century this was a task for the lowest of slaves as feet were only covered with sandals and came in contact with all kinds of crazy over the course of the day. Afterward Jesus gave his disciples, and all of us, a charge - wash each others feet. Whether lower or higher than another person in age, intellect, social class, wealth, whatever, wash their feet. Wash the feet of the greatest king and the lowliest peasant. This is the gospel - to love all and to be sent to all and to be willing to do anything for the sake of the name.

Obviously washing feet is symbolic today in the west. We wash each others feet during Holy Week, on Holy Thursday when we celebrate the last supper. But we don't so much need our feet washed. It is a reminder. Instead we give time or talent, we serve when it's uncomfortable, etc.

Yesterday, though, I got a taste of real, down and dirty foot washing. And it was incredible.


Begin rabbit trail

At Jacob's Porch, the Lutheran church I attend in Columbus we often talk about the four loves - agape (sacrificial, perfect love that puts another first, think Christ dying in or stead), philos (friendship, love of others with whom we are in close community), eros (passionate love, spur of the moment, outpourings of "YES". Obviously this applies to romance but it also happens when we see an old, dear friend who has been away for awhile or when we have an amazing moment with a child we love, etc.), and stroga (love for another or a stranger.)

End rabbit trail


For me, foot washing came with some intense storga. I got to love these boys physically and pray silently over them as I cleaned off mud and grime from their feet. (I also decided that a foot washing should come with a little bit of foot rubbing because, well, it feels good to have someone rub your feet.)  I don't say all of this to pat myself on the back or to sound like a Christian who has arrived. I'm weak and frail and only just beginning to learn what it is to follow Jesus. One foot washing is a very small thing. The larger, greater thing is to give each day in small ways, to be faithful in the every day. And if there is any glory at all in washing feet then all glory should go to Christ, for he alone could take this apprehensive girl (I was quite nerved about the whole thing) and turn it into a powerful spiritual experience. But then, our God delights in showing himself in the small things.

................................

I thought it was funny to see construction equipment at the orphanage. Pictured are some of the 29 kids who were at Bosto, the other 11 were at secondary school.

Hanging with the kids

In order to bless the kids we washed each of their feet and gave them all new socks, new shoes, and a new t-shirt. Here are two of the big bags full of shoes we had.

Foot washing supplies - bucket of water, towels, and basin. There was soap too, but I didn't get a picture...

The sign in front of the orphanage

Kenyan Hills behind the orphanage

Farmed hills behind the orphanage

One of the boys wearing his new shoes next to the water buckets we used

One of the boys and me. Excuse the squinting...

Chuck Bemm sorting shoes.

Some of the kids had lots of fun with their socks!

Hannah drove us part of the way home. :)

Much love to you all. May you know the depths of the His love, "love so amazing, so divine demands my soul, my life, my all"

Joanna

Sunday night

I'm sitting in the living room with my roommate, Carolyn and a friend of ours, Laura, who came to Tenwek from England. It's been lovely to have another 20 something on the compound and to commiserate with her about life here. We're watching Robin Hood (the Disney one, which is so classic and which Laura had never seen before!) 

Monday seems like a lot. I get a few days off of math class, which is a blessing as I'm behind on other things. I struggle to know what to prioritize, as usual. I'd never been to Tenwek's ICU before last week and all of a sudden I find myself invested in so many very sick patients. So many have died this week. A baby ate a dead goat and got anthrax. He was on a ventilator and it malfunctioned when people weren't looking and he died. A woman with lupus came in with so many body systems out... she died yesterday. The pain she experienced must have been incredible. There aren't words. 

Facing another week... I don't know how to love the people in the ward. I can't treat their hurts, I can't love them the same way I want to. All I can do is take down their information, smile at them, and pray. I feel like a child with a messy picture to give as a gift to Michaelangelo. 

And yet, there is good news. 

I got to spend about 3 hours with the babies today and I had a blast. Ellie is a huge fan of the put-blanket-over-her-head-and-then-pretend-like-I-can't-find-her game. Her response was either to stick her hands up under the blanket or say "hi!" or "aboo!" after taking off the blanket. With help of the 12-14 year old girls here (there are 3) I managed to get all three diapers changed, gotta love massive amounts of poop, and got dinner on. I had a ball. 

A dear friend of mine is having a baby. It's one of those babies who was given at just the right time and I'm so excited to hear from them.

**********************************

I'm not sure what to do. On the one hand, I'm concerned about burnout factor. Simultaneously, though, I don't think there's anything wrong with getting attached to patients. Grief is great and it's okay to be sad. It's good to mourn that a life is gone prematurely. I don't want to be numb to suffering.

Romans talks about praying in groans that words cannot express and that the Holy Spirit understands those groans and puts words to them. I'm so grateful for that. In moments when it feels hard I'm also so glad for words written by people who can put things much better than I can.

We will Run, Gungor

You are on our side, Bethany Dillon

After the Last Tear Falls, Andrew Peterson

The Silence of God, Andrew Peterson

In the messiness of life, when things seem too nuts to get our arms around, may we run to him.

Joanna

Sheepish...

First of all, a few ground rules - I live in Kenya. I also have wireless internet in my apartment and that internet isn't dialup. This in and of itself is a small miracle, which I tried to remind myself last week as I constantly fought with the internet to get it up and running. Despite the fact that it made me bone up on my troubleshooting skills, largely, it was just a big pain in the neck. Carolyn informed me that something was interfering with the Tenwek server, which was over my head technologically so I wondered what was going on but kept up my daily skirmishes unabated.

That is, until today.

Today I decided to lug my computer back up to IT because the internet was not working again and I was very confused. I was told that the problem might be in the modem and that I should bring that up. I did. However, I forgot the power cord. Oops. They told me to just come back at 2:30 with the modem and power cord. Okay. I can handle simple directions most of the time so I continued on with my crazy day and waited for 2:30 to arrive.

After spending some time at the Hospital I returned home to hear Chuck call me from their porch. Not terribly surprising, but he said he had something embarrassing to tell me. Hmmm... I was then informed that the internet problems had somehow been coming from the modem Carolyn and I had inherited from other missionaries here! Oops! The folks at IT told Chuck that a mzungu (white) young lady with blue glasses had come up and, well, I'd been caught red handed in my accidental internet trouble causing.

Needless to say I turned very red and rushed up to IT. Currently they're running a bunch of tests on the modem and then they'll figure out how to get it working again. We have a temporary one and I'm very thankful we found the problem, even though I feel very sheepish.

The End.

Normalicy

There is something strange about routines. I seem to have found one and I'm so glad that I'm figuring out the best time for all of the various activities a day brings. My mornings start with a workout, then a quick hiatus for breakfast (and blogging!), and then I head up to the hospital for morning rounds at 7:30. At 8 am we have morning report, a lecture on Morbidity and Mortality, a specific disease and how to treat it, or a presentation of an interesting case from the night before. I've been learning a lot. After morning report I finish up whatever I have left to do at the hospital and scurry home to teach math class at 10:15. The rest of my morning is free to do paperwork, sort out art class, and so forth and at 1 pm we either have lunch or go up to the hospital for another lecture. Afternoons are flexible except on wednesdays when I teach art class to the 4th and 5th grade from 3-4. In the evenings Carolyn and I always cook dinner together, which is normally a fairly involved meal, eat, and talk for awhile. By the end of the day I'm totally exhausted and I'm glad to have my days so lovely and full, even if I don't have quite the down time I was anticipating. 

Please, all of you in the USA - let the Steelers know that they're disappointing those of us who appreciate Steeler football in the compound. We've got too many Colts fans and Bengals fans and Patriots fans to deal with a bad season, thank you very much. My pride is already a little bit bruised.

One unfortunate side effect of living in Africa is the bugs. We get flies of multiple varieties, ants, general flying things, moths, small roaches, and the ever present mosquitos. No pincher ant sightings as of yet, though I know that we're doomed to being pinched at some point while we're here. I've discovered that fear of pincher ants makes a person do strange things - like running across the compound in the middle of the night so they don't have a chance to latch on. But as far as bugs go, I have a personal vendetta and deep, deep hatred for cock roaches. I'm glad we don't have them and am hopeful that the trend continues. In the meantime, though, Carolyn heads up the flying bugs seige while I focus on the long campaign against anything that crawls. If we have to open up a new "roach focused" arm to our strategy, then so be it. 

Love to you all!

Joanna

Home Sweet Home

Growing up I lived in the same house for all of my life (that I could remember, that is.) The last few years I've moved around a ton - into a dorm, into a new dorm, back home, to Africa, back home, into an apartment, to a great friend's house, and now to Kenya. As much as I'm looking forward to moving somewhere and living there for more than a few months I'm feeling very settled in to my new digs.

Our front door. I love the flower beds. Shadrach and Ellie love to climb on the chairs and look at me while I look out the window

My roommate Carolyn in our living room. (Unfortunately I forgot to tell her I was taking the picture...) The kitchen table faces the window and it's an awesome spot to work.

The kitchen. Note the freshly baked bread in zliploc bags on the counters and the very much beloved coffee maker and hot pot.

Laundry area of the kitchen. Our washer is great and our clothes get hung up to dry outside, one of my favorite chores. Being outiside, wrangling a big, wet, sheet, figuring out which clothes pins have decided to work.

My bedroom. The blue mosquito net makes my night.

My desk in the corner of the room. Love it.

View from the door to my room.

One of the greatest blessings of being here is the wonderful surroundings. The outside is beautiful and the inside is sweet and very much home already. I often think of the idea that home should be an oasis and coming home here feels that way.

Well, I'd write something profound but I'm tired and I'm getting up at some ridiculous hour of the morning to watch part of the Steeler game with some of the missionaries (some of whom like the Colts! So sad...) Anyway, so I think I'm gonna go to bed now.

Love to you all!
Joanna

Happy Birthday Shadrach!

Today I learned some things.

I learned about the fact that I can, in fact, do pushups. I learned that P90X hurts when you haven’t done enough workouts in between trips to Africa. I learned a few new cultural nuances. I learned some new medical terms. I learned a little more about teaching.

But the part about today that I think I’ll remember for the longest time is that today I learned about evil.

We like to pretend that it’s not there, that there’s no such thing as a battle. We read about it in books (The White Witch, The Wicked Witch of the West, etc) but it feels far away. Today I saw the battle, it’s a sobering and hard place to be. I met a baby today who is so sick and malnourished and abused. So tiny at 2.5 years old that I think I know some kids who were born outweighing her. She has a brittle bone disease that will make her life more challenging. It was heartbreaking, to see what had happened to her. I don't want to blame anyone, I just need to grieve that such a sad thing has happened. I just want to lift this little one up to the savior.

The world is broken. Evil exists. For some reason I don’t understand it is allowed to continue. Romans says that “the whole creation is groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up until the present time.”

These are the moments when all I can say is in the words of an old song we used to sing at Jacob's Porch "Come, Lord, quickly, come" and grieve the brokenness and bentness of our world.

But I also saw hope today. I saw hope because today we celebrated the birthday of a sweet little man named Shadrach. God provided a loving family for him and a home that is stable and where he’ll be safe. Even though it’s easy to look out at the masses and despair, I’ll keep holding onto the pinprick of hope that I see. Much has gone wrong, so many babies are dying and hurting, there is so much restoration left undone, but today, I see hope in the faces of Shadrach, Esther, and Ellie. And I even saw hope in the little one who came through Tenwek at 10 pounds and 2.5 years – she is going to a wonderful orphanage where she’ll be loved and cared for an someday she’ll be given a home just like Esther, Ellie, Shadrach, and Hannah have. There is hope for these lives. And there is hope for each of ours.

Three ladies outside my apartment hanging out on a tree. They're also all in my 4th and 5th grade art class. Today we had "tea and crumpets" in the apartment and my roommate did a very convincing English accent as she served the pretend food. I struggled with the accent so I focused on my curtsies.

A lymeric (spelling?) written by one of my other art students. I was really impressed by his poetry... I certainly couldn't manage all of that structure!

Three of the Tewnek teenagers - the two in the front are some of my three Pre-Algebra students. Those guys are all tons of fun! (Though they think a lot of my music is lame)

Ellie showing off her big smile!

Me holding Esther (aka Eh-der aka Anne of Green Gables. Really, if they had a part for 1 year old Annes, Esther would nail the audition.) She loves cuddles too and I'm making the most of that.

Shaddy with his brand new Tonka truck. The ladies at my church were so generous - I took 2 suitcases of donations with me, including the Tonka Truck which is being played with and loved by a newly two year old boy :)

Ellie wasn't so into the whole cupcake thing, unless her dad fed it to her. She's a little goofball.

Esther, on the other hand, was all about cupcakes. She LOVES to eat

Shaddy getting to dive into the wonders of the birthday cupcake

My wonderful roommate Carolyn and Esther in front of our apartment 5-plex

May you see the pinprick of hope in your every day, may there be majesty in the mundane, and know that "the joy of the journey is enough to make a grown man cry"

Joanna