in a funk

I knew that when I came back from Kenya, the world would appear a little different than when I left for my trip (OK a lot). But I wasn’t too concerned, I had been to third world countries a few times, so I knew what to expect when I got home. I was prepared to face, and struggle with, what I believe are, the ugly issues of our culture. I expected an adjustment period back to this culture lasting, maybe a couple of weeks, tops. I expected to look at myself and all of its crap and ask myself a lot of tough questions. But this adjustment period is still going on. And I have no answers…. I am in a funk.
My mind will wander off into a day dream of tracing the steps that I took during my stay in Kenya. I can still hear my foot steps as I walked the dirt trails into Kitale or Kolongolo. I can still hear the laughter of the children as they play a game of dodge ball with a simple Nerf ball. I laugh out loud when I think about Virginia giving me a bad time because I didn’t eat as much food as she thought I should have. I can see so plainly, the expressions of joy and gratitude on the faces of those we visited. I can also feel the overflowing love of the grandmothers and aunts as they clutch their heart because we paid them a visit.
I miss seeing the passion and commitment in Meredith’s and Sean’s and Daniel’s eyes. I miss sitting in the gazebo and wondering “how can I help”. I feel I have lost my rudder and I am just floating and drifting aimlessly. I guess I just need to accept this is a period on being “uncomfortable” or, as I have written before, “a place of tension”. Yup, there is that tension word again. But when I stop and be still and ponder, I ultimately, get the sense that this funk is just another face of transformation. The transformation to living out His designs, for His purpose, continues. I am not really digging this sense of fogginess. I wish I could just shake my head and everything would be clear again. But I know I don’t have to shake my head, I just have to stand on my tip toes and grab His hand, its there, waiting for me.

clarity of purpose

A grandmother weeding three rows of maze will receive 30 shillings a day or .38cents US. With her grandchildren’s help, they can weed five rows of maze and receive 50 schillings or .65cents US.

A boy that has lost his family may end up wondering the streets and sniffing glue, just to ward off the cold and the pains of hunger. A 14 year old girl may slip into prostitution because there is no where else to go.

A man will sell handkerchiefs or sesame seed balls all day at the station, just to eek out some type of living.

A boy will pop popcorn and sell it on the street corner, while his brother figures out a way to raise more chickens to sell.

Another grandmother will sell a few teabags and some sugar cane from a stick made street stand and then use the money to make tea and buy her visitors a Kenyan pastry and chips.

Public transportation is an intense, organized free for all; just so as many people can squeeze into an over crowded vehicle.

Because of the scarcity of food a grandmother of 6 may be forced to feed her grandchildren a porridge of Ugali…once a day.

Their stories can go on and on. But they all have one theme in common and that theme is survival. Their sole purpose in life is just to survive….some how, some way!

When have you had to do what ever it took just to survive? I know, we all work long and hard…but to do what? To buy that bigger, brighter, shinier, faster thing…what ever it is.

Here in North America what we view as surviving is just a time of being uncomfortable. So what is your purpose in life, are you really trying to survive or are you just uncomfortable? Maybe your "set" and have it made. If you have "made it" give some of your time or money away and if you already give....give more.

I know the only thing that separates me from those trying to survive, was a decision that He made a long time ago.