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