Leaving...

I have, on several occasions since being back in Kenya found myself attempting to write a blog about it. I have also always failed. But as I sit here in a guest house in Nairobi waiting for bed to come, listening to music, and reflecting on all that has been this summer, I find myself sitting here typing.

This summer, oh my, what a time it's been! A grand adventure. From feeding a sweet little kilo baby at the beginning of my trip, to handing out food bags to kids in a clinic, to observing (and even scrubbing in on) surgeries, to conducting to studies and experiencing all of the craziness that comes with trying to do a chart review in rural Kenya, to using a drill to make spacers for inhalers with coke bottles, to visiting orphanages and hanging with the kids, to teaching a bunch of little ones in english with swahili translation when most of them speak only Kipsigis. All of those wonderful moments will stay with me forever.

And yet, the experience that was richest, the thing that sticks out as the most beautiful of this summer is being able to become a part of the family I lived with. To go from hello in June to tearful goodbyes this morning. To loving them first as strangers and then as beloved family. Caring for the kids for two weeks with another college student as my personal life blew up was one of the craziest things I've ever done. It was a great time of learning and growing. I loved it, despite the fact that it was hard.

I said my goodbyes this morning. It was strange, leaving. Even now, it doesn't seem as though I won't be back for who knows how long, if ever. I want to say "I'll see you in June" but I don't have leave to do that yet. How strange an experience this is.

At the end, as I get ready to board a plane willingly but sadly. It isn't that I don't love college (or university, as I seem to be calling it these days under the influence of many Kenyans and Canadians) and it isn't that I don't love being with my family back in the states. Kenya quickly has become home in more ways than I could describe. Leaving home, I'm finding, is always hard. I don't enjoy being uprooted just as I was settling into a routine and really getting into stride.

I have loved this summer. I have been loved this summer. What a joy it is to be able to say that. If I had known what joys and sorrows, what encouragement and trial I would find, I don't know if I would have laughed or cried. I have done both many times in these last few days. What a journey, an adventure. I am different for going to Kenya. I know Kenya did more good to me than I did to Kenya, but that's totally okay.

A few weeks ago I went on a safari and really enjoyed the time getting a little rest and relaxation. On our first drive through the Mara, under the sort of sunset that you see in The Lion King, after seeing animals I'd only seen in zoos, I stood perched up on the seat, leaning back, the wind in my hair, stretching out my arms. All I could think of was how glorious a moment it was. And glorious was the word for it. That moment, I think, best encapsulates my time in Kenya. It has been a glorious experience. Not easy, but always good.

And why do I say that? I can only respond that I know the one who brought me to Kenya and that he has richly blessed me. And I rejoice in the fact that the one who took me to Kenya is the same one who brings me back to the US. To quote a great man named Jim Elliot, "live to the hilt every situation you believe to be the will of God." And so to you all, I can only say - obey. When he asks you to trust him with the things you hold dearest, withhold nothing from him. He may take them, but he will never leave you empty handed. For he has given you himself, free for the asking. He has not promised us that the road will be easy, but he has promised that he will be with us, that he knows the plans he has for us, that he himself will light the way, and that at the end, on that truly glorious day, more glorious than anything we could ever imagine, all things will be made new.

Therefore I urge you, brothers and sisters, to offer your bodies, your lives, all you hold dear, as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God. This is your spiritual act of worship. (Romans 12:1, NIV and with additions from Joanna.)

My love to all of you in the one who loves us all,

Joanna

Grief is Great

I just got home from Kenya. So sorry that my posts have been infrequent but my time in Kenya was at first an exercise in rest and then an exercise in activity, neither of which were terribly condusive to writing. I've learned alot after three weeks away from home and country living with a new family and in a new environment. I loved it. The food, the people, the experiences. Later I'll write a gushing blog post about all the wonderful I experienced, but today I feel the need to write about the hard.

I was petrified to leave for Africa.

In fact, starting after finals, I dreaded leaving. I was excited sometimes, but there were so many "what ifs" about the process of getting to Kenya by myself and then staying there for weeks - I found the courage I'd felt as I thought about the trip months in advance deserted me as the time to leave approached - I was worried about my time in the hospital, whether or not I'd get along with the family I was to stay with, a myriad of things, really.

I sat on the plane on one of my two redeyes on the way over. (Two redeyes isn't that bad when you're short because there's enough room to put your legs in a semi elongated position and lean back into a semi reclined position, leading to semi decent sleep.) I don't remember which night it was, but I dreamed most of the night about getting any and all sorts of parasitic worms. The thought of getting them has always grossed me out, and I woke up feeling even more scared than I had previously. A few weeks into my trip I had the same dream and I woke up and realized that if I get worms or any other variety of parasite, it'll be okay. There will be grace for that and there's nothing to fear. "And my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus." I just realized while writing that the juxtaposition of those two responses, much of which is due to Chuck and Amy's very level-headed approach to the prospect of tropical diseases.

It isn't that the things I feared didn't come to pass, in fact, on the whole, they did. I made mistakes in the hospital, got lost in London (but was able to find my way back to the tube station I was headed to), fainted like a champ in the nursery, made a cultural faux pas, and so on. I met babies who died, saw hard things, experienced hard things. It wasn't that the hard didn't happen it was rather that there was grace for them. In the hard moments, I found Christ in ways I hadn't before. I thank God that even though I fained while standing up I'd had the sense to pass of the syringe I was using to feed a preemie to someone else and that I didn't break my jaw even though I whacked my head. The blessings abounded.

I only cried once in Kenya, which in some ways surprised me. I feel as though part of giving a person dignity is not responding with shock to their medical condition and instead greeting them with a smile and hello in whatever language they speak. When I worked in the hospital, therefore, I was never near tears. However, once I started my research I started to tear up. Reading names of kids, knowing that all of them would watch their mother suffer and many would watch their mother did, seeing that some had HIV themselves and that they would suffer because of the disease was simply heartbreaking. I got onto the plane on the way home and realized that I couldn't hold them or hand them food, or care for them physically anymore and I sat in my seat and cried. "Grief is great," says Aslan in The Magician's Nephew, and I feel the greatness and depth of that grief these days in a way I hadn't before.

When I arrived home I discovered that the kitty I've had since age 4, who has been a comforter and companion throughout my growing up years is sicker than when I left. We've been waiting for his liver cancer to get to the point that we had to put him down, and it looks as though the time has come. Tomorrow we take him to the vet, and I'm already a mess about it. It isn't grief in the same way I grieve for the kids - whiskers is, after all, a cat, not a human and his death is nowhere near as tragic as the ones at Tenwek. Also, he had a long and full life, not one that was cut short. And yet, I've never met a better kitty. He loves me and lets me know. He's been particularly cuddly since I got home and I've so enjoyed getting to hold him. Saying goodbye will be hard and I'll miss my boy. I already do.

I take refuge in the truth that Jesus wept. He cried, even though he knew the end of the story. When I suffer, when we suffer, he suffers with us. As trite as this seems, he loves the kids and the cat far more than I ever could. He loved the kids enough to die for them, to give the most precious thing he had for them. That is the God I serve, and so it is to him that I run for comfort. I have at times, run from him, angry that he could allow such suffering and that he did not put an end to it, but I'm finding that running to him for comfort instead of running away to lick my wounds alone is a much better way to function.

And so I continue crying. I cry for Chelangat and Chepkoech, two little girls I got to meet while in Kenya. I cry for Docas' family, who lost their little girl. I cry for the two boys whose names I can't remember, one of whom died and the other is quite sick with AIDs. I cry for the kids whose test results are the basis of my study. I cry for all the dark inside of me. I cry because HIV exists. I cry for all the broken in the world. And yet I rejoice. I rejoice because there is a savior. I rejoice because he so loved the world that he gave his one and only son. I rejoice because I was able to serve. I rejoice because my God weeps with me. I rejoice because there will be a day when everything is set right. I rejoice because Chelangat is still alive. I rejoice because God is teaching me through the pain of it all. I rejoice because I'm alive.

May you also feel the tension between joy and sorrow, laughter and weeping, happiness and pain.

Joanna

Firsts

A week ago tomorrow I left home for my adventure of sorts. I've very much enjoyed it, despite the major attack of nerves that set in about two days before I left!

I spent a day in London enjoying the beauty of europe and eating far too many ham, cheese, and mustard sandwiches (what else was I to do? There weren't any sandwiches without gobs and gobs of mayo!) I saw the British Museum but couldn't go in due to time constraints and the presence of my suitcase. I called home from a red phone booth, because I could, and enjoyed talking to my baby sister. I also met with a former OSU student who's at the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine getting her MPH.

There have been a lot of firsts this week. Saturday morning I set foot for the very first time in Africa. Cars here drive on the opposite side of the road and the driver sits on what I think of as the passenger side. I think I'll be rather confused about which side of a car to jump into by the end of this summer! Sunday I had my first lunch in the village and my first trip to an orphanage. We dedicated the girls dorm to Marty Jarret, a missionary here for several years who recently passed away of breast cancer. Her husband, daughter (one of 10 kids!) and grandson came and it was a very special time. What an impact she had. She sounds like a very special lady. The kids were great at the Orphanage and I'm very glad that most of them speak some english! My kiswahili skills are nonexistant and there are many tribal languages - from Kipsigis to Luo, that I don't know how to say anything in. I can say 3 or 4 swahili words.

We got back from the orphanage on sunday and I got to hold my first chameleon. They're pretty fun and not as big as I expected. It crawled onto my head, which I rather enjoyed. The Bemms have three pet tortoises, which has been quite fun as well. Also on the reptilian front, there are apparently not many snakes here, which is making me very happy, as I'm not a big snake person. They're fine, but I'm glad there aren't many of them here.

The scenery is incredible and the food is absolutely delicious. I'm tried my first passionfruit the other day, they're great! So much fun to eat. I'll have to take some photos and post them. Eventually... I still miss the bread and hummus we had in Syria and I can guarantee that I'm gonna be missing the mango when I get home!

Monday was my first day in the hospital. I spent the day doing some data entry which I finished on tuesday. I've been busy trying to learn the names of all the people I've met in the last days. Today I'm hanging out at the house doing some internet work on prevention of transmission of HIV from mother to child as WHO changed their recommendations again. Later I'll do a little babysitting/bible study leading.

Grace and Peace!
Joanna

Playlist

The newsy posts will begin soon - I just want to devote these first few posts to explaining my philosophy of mission, being sent, what it means to pursue justice, and why I'm going to kenya.

I'm a little short on time right now, but I did want to post a playlist I use a lot. I have it titled "Global Health" and it's a bunch of songs that I find really helpful when I'm thinking about the issues of justice affiliated, for me at least, with Global Health and the larger problem of evil that I find so difficult to come to terms with. I'm very sorry that this blog is so "christianized" but my faith really and truly is the bedrock of all that I am and it (and it alone) is what gives me the strength to take on the problems facing our world. My God is a great God who makes me laugh and cry and sing and weep. On that note - the playlist (and reasons for each song)

***** DISCLAIMER***** This thing turned into a whale of a post. Essentially, I ended up boiling a lot of my "creed" into paragraphs themed to certain songs. And if you make it to the end, you're my new hero.

Serve Hymn/Holy is the Lord - Andrew Peterson

This song works through why we serve God and why he is worth the serving. It's a typical Peterson song, and I included in this playlist because it not only calls us to serve it calls us to serve because we have been saved from our sin. To quote the old hymn "Love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all."

The Silence of God - Andrew Peterson

Perhaps the most gut wrenching song I've heard in a long time. This guy makes me weep. When I look at the suffering of the ones whom I love, when I see brokenness and disease and hurt and God seems to have left the building, this song doesn't offer easy answers or quick solutions. It simply reminds me of Jesus in the garden of Gethsemene and that "the man of all sorrows, he never forgot, what sorrow is carried by the hearts that he bought."

After the Last Tear Falls - Andrew Peterson

I remember watching my mom listen to this song, standing in our cabin by the cd player, and crying big crocodile tears. I can relate since I've cried listening to it too. This song has only answer I can give to the question of suffering - All will be made new. The promise that all will be set right is one on which I can hang my hope. The song lists terrible things that happen saying that"after the last ____ there is love" for awhile and then repeats "a valley green and a river wide, valley deep and a mountain high"over and over stating the promise of heaven and true deep restoration. I believe very strongly in the old idea that we can bring heaven or hell to earth and my goal is to bring a little more heaven, a little more restoration, to parts of the world that tend to be ignored. I rest in the fact that I can never do that perfectly and that the God who loves the kids so much more than I do will set all things to right.

Rita - Bebo Norman

The Problem of Evil was never something that bugged me, until last summer. All of a sudden, it hit me in all of its awfulness and I couldn't come up with anything that made sense. This song was what helped me out of the rut I was stuck in. It's essentially a serenade to a girl (Rita) dying of some terminal illness. Two truths resounded for me. "A fallen world, it took your life" - that is, sin is the ultimate enemy here, not God. "And the God, that sometimes can't be found, will wrap himself around you" which, I think, is rather self explanatory. I still struggle with the problem of evil - there are no easy answers to it, but there are truths and promises I cling to, simple statements that have become my hiding places.

Let me Sing - Andrew Peterson

I want my life to embody the goals put forth in this song. That deep, desperate ache to do mission is nothing compared to my desire to do what my Abba wants. I can honestly say that my goal is simply to live in the will of the One who loves me and who loves the whole world. Here's the chorus.

Let me Sing for the Love

Let me love for the lost

Let me lose all I am for what I've found on the Cross

Let me trust you with my life

Let me live to give you praise

Let me praise you, for the grace by which I'm saved

Let me sing

Prepare Ye the Way - Caedmon's Call

This really and truly, is what we are called to do: to prepare the way for Christ in his coming again. It calls us to repent of all the stuff in our faith that is of ourselves and simply prepare for the coming of the bridegroom. Luke 10:2 "The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few, ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field." May we be workers willing to do the will of him who loved us and who has brought us to himself.

Share the Well - Caedmon's Call

This is the titular song on a really fun album by Caedmon's call. It's more fun than anything, and for me, at least, acts more of a call to arms than a strength for the journey song. I tend to need the latter more, but it's such a great concept - using lots of international instruments to call people to "Share the Well" that I had to include it!

Table for Two - Caedmon's Call

I've very much come to terms with the fact that I could end up never marrying because of where I'm going with my life. I may end up living in "wedded bliss." I may not. I really don't know. Whatever happens, though, I know and believe that I can trust in the God who has made me and who loves me. But anyway, this song is a song about being single, and I like it for that. It has a wonderful promise that I like to hang onto "And you know the plans you have for me, and you can't plan the ends and not plan the means. And now I suppose I just need some peace"

Blessed Redeemer - Casting Crowns

Essentially, a reminder that Jesus bled and died for me and for the whole world. Good news!

All in the Serve - Michael W Smith

This song is a part of the soundtrack to the truly excellent movie "The Second Chance" about inner city/suburban relationships in the church. It really hit home for me as I have been a part of both communities and it would probably be a good idea for you to watch it. It may be a bit oversimplified, but oh well. Again, I'll just post the chorus

Hold my feet to the fire

Til I break in a sweat

Til I never forget...

Here it's all in the Serve

This is your Time - Michael W Smith

When I was a little girl in Kids Choir at church we sang this song, or someone did a dance to it, or something. Can't quite place it. But I've loved it ever since. It is a call to live and to die well. "Death died a long time ago, swallowed in life so that life carries on."

No Greater Love - Steven Curtis Chapman

I've been captivated by the story of Jim Elliot, Pete Fleming, Roger Youderian, Ed McCully, Nate Saint, and their wives, for a long time. If you don't know the story of "Operation Auca" you should look it up immediately. The documentary "Beyond the Gates of Splendor" is available for free on hulu and it's totally worth the hour and a half. The film "The End of the Spear" is also available on hulu. I'm more of a fan of the documentary, but that's probably just me. Anyway, this song was written to commemorate the five men who died in an effort to make friendly contact with the Waodani tribe in Ecuador. I'll post the full story later and talk about it's significance to me. Until then, do some research on your own, folks!

The Long Defeat - Sara Groves

If we've talked much about these issues, I've probably brought up the concept of the "Long Defeat" at least once. It's honestly one of my favorites. It's found in Tolkein's elves and in the ideals of a guy named Paul Farmer. Essentially the idea is that you don't fight to win, you fight because justice demands that you fight, and outcomes aren't the goal. The goal is giving everything you've got in pursuit of justice. So live or die, succeed or fail, let us fight the long defeat!

I Saw What I Saw - Sara Groves

How can I, in light of all that I have seen, do anything but what I am doing? "I saw what I saw, and I can't forget it."

Compelled - Sara Groves

"I am compelled" is the resounding ending of this song and it sums up my feelings about my "calling." I'm compelled. It's like there's a string tied to me and there's nothing I can do but go! It's an ache, a, well, compulsion. :) Also, the song goes on to talk about who I am as a person and as a daughter of the king, which is awesome!

When the Saints - Sara Groves

Here's part of the song. Couldn't say it much better than this. I love the fact that we're a part of a great cloud of witnesses - that we're not alone.

I think of Paul and Silas in the prison yard

I hear their song of freedom rising to the stars

I see the shepherd Moses in the Pharoh's court

I hear his call for freedom for the people of the Lord

I see the Long quiet walk along the Underground Railroad

I see the slave awakening to the value of her soul

I see the young missionary and the angry spear

I see his family returning with no trace of fear

I see the long hard shadows of Calcutta night

I see the sister standing by the dying man's side

I see the young girl huddled on the brothel floor

I see the man with a passion come and kicking down that door

I see the man of sorrows and his long troubled road

I see the world on his shoulders and my easy load

And when the saints go marching in, I want to be one of them

It Might be Hope - Sara Groves

It's so easy to feel hopeless when working in any social project. The problems feel so overwhelming, there's so much red tape to wade through, and the amount of grief is just unimaginable. Aslan tells Digory in The Magician's Nephew that "grief is great" and it certainly is - it is deeper and more awful that we can imagine. But there is hope! And it has a way of catching me by surprise, which is what this song is about.

Love is Still a Worthy Cause - Sara Groves

Do I need to say more? Love is a worthy cause.

Mighty To Save - Hillsong

My God is mighty to save. And do you know what - he already saved it! Now we're just living in light of his saving it and fighting to bring about restoration! Can we have a party about that? Why do we only get one day for Easter?

Grace and Peace,

Joanna

Why I'm not Superwoman.

I realized today that I'll be leaving for Africa in 30 days.

It feels so soon! During the winter it was a far away reality that I rejoiced over, but that almost felt too remote to be real. Today, though, I feel the realness of it acutely. I am going to Africa. And I'm leaving soon.

The reality of the trip is exciting. I've longed to go for so long, I can't believe that the moment when I'll actually get to spend a good amount of time abroad has come, but the reality of it is also terribly overwhelming. I went over parasites in my "Infectious Disease in the Developing World" class, and I found it to be more than I could handle. I worry that I won't be able to handle what Kenya has to offer - that I won't be worthy of the task set before me. I worry that my hope - to help bring justice to people, to act with mercy, and to give dignity - won't be a reality. I worry that I'll be a hindrance, not a blessing. I worry that the kids I teach won't have anything to learn from me. I worry that I won't be prepared, that I'll miss a deadline. In the immediate, I worry that I won't finish this quarter strong, that I'll miss the mark and end up without the grade I wanted and with weaker relationships than I hoped for. There is much to be concerned about, but I remember that the reason I'm going isn't about me.

I'm not going to Africa to save it. Africa has already been saved. Kenya has already been saved.

That reality - the fact that the world has ALREADY been saved is where I strive to place my hope. I cannot hope in the justice of the government, in my ability, or in anything else. I can only hope in the one who loves Kenya so much more than I do, whose heart aches for the kids far more than mine ever could. I am not called to save Kenya, I am called to tell the Kenyans I meet about the one who loves them.

Well, I have to go to Chemistry lab, so I'll write again later with specifics for the trip and more on my motivation for going.

Grace and Peace.