We Are What We Eat

I am visiting Nairobi for a short stint. After morning devotion I took a walk around the refreshing grounds of the Mennonite guest house, and up in the flowering trees flew two song birds that were after good things -- and too a poem came.

We Are What We Eat

Vultures are of the most ugliest of all creatures - this is surely fitting.
They eat the carcasses of rotting and dead things;
these, the notorious scavengers circling the air above African plains.

Yet how fitting that beautiful song birds drink the nectar of equally beautiful flowers.
Their plumage reflects the masterful image of their source of nourishment.
creative colors abound and delight the eye.

Are we therefore creatures that conform to surroundings? May I be wise in mine.
I believe,and so it would appear, nature is surely speaking wisdom here.
Lord may I draw life from You, the most - beyond words of description - glorious everythihng that creation can know & love, and live on.

Convictions of Christ

“Worthy are You to take the book and to break its seals; for You were slain, and purchased for God with Your blood men from every tribe and tongue and people and nation." Revelation 5:9


Praise Jesus.


This is a second entry that reflects on my time in Maasai Land.


I had the above verse going through my head when I walked into a Maasai church for the first time -- a small school in the hills of Kotel. Women were  colorful as ever celebrating Jesus with song and dance, yet little presence of men. But wow, God is moving in Maasai land!


Early mornings there typically included sitting around a table (drinking hot chai tea) with 5-7 Maasai men working for community health & development who have all become Christians, they are some of the many Christian pioneers of their community. The work day would being with conversing and fellowship which takes early morning priority! The peace that accompanies faces and settles around the table is remarkable, unlike anything I have experienced before. This is an attribute that I can only accredit to God for all of these men have deep convictions of Christ flowing through their African spirit. Amen. Praise You Jesus.


Most of our work in Maasai land consisted of doing repairs on cracked filters, installing BSF`s and doing follow-ups. We worked with a gentlemen by the name of Elijah (around 50 years old), he is the water-track manager for Maasai community health dept. He is also a good worker, fun-loving, adventurous, humble, sincere and carries many songs in his soul, and like myself enjoys doing development work and ministry -- though he the experienced one. Elijah grew up like most boys who become men and became a Maasai warrior (to graduate he needed to kill a lion with a spear, in total he has killed seven lions in his life). When he became a Christian he was one of the first (witnessed to by indigenous visiting evangelists) in his village, he faced persecution through violence and isolation, but over the years (26 years as a Christian) he has become a well respected leader in the community, he is also a pastor. It was an absolute privilege to spend time with him throughout our three week stay in Maasai land, to learn from his work on the BSF`s, to hear him witness and pray for the BSF beneficiaries and to see him preach. To see Jesus in Him! 

The staff of Maasai Community Health. Elijah is 4th from the left. 


Christianity is growing in Maasai land, they now estimate that ten percent of population are Christians (thirty years ago it may have been 1 percent). But as already mentioned it is very evident that God is strongly moving amongst them. 


After one of the church services we attended we were invited back to the home of a widowed lady, Namelok. While enjoying tea, Peter asked her about her testimony, it was extremely moving. She started going to church after her husband was killed in an accident over a year ago. She was warned not to go to church by her villagers, they claimed she needed to go to a witch dotor instead (apparently all of her husband`s siblings had died and they believed the family to be cursed).  


This sweet older widow told us that she then heard a voice from heaven that said ``I am God, and I will help you`` WOW. She then told her neighbors that she refused the help of witch dotors, and was going to church instead. However, as the days went on villagers continued to harass her, they even threatened her life. Yet after hearing The voice from heaven speak the same message at two other times she refused to give in and go to the witch doctors, stating that they could take her life but that she would remain faithful to Jesus!! Wow. I was blown away by this story from a lady who had no need to be falsely extravagant about religious testimony, just the sincere telling of a widowed Maasai women who simply encountered the awesome and living God. As mentioned above, the convictions of Christ are running deep in the spirit of many Maasai people! 

Members of the church in Kotel, Namelok (the widowed lady from the above story) is on the far left.

Namelok in her minyata (Maasai home).
Maasai homes are incredibly ancient in design and function, amazing experience to be welcomed in.

Namelok's family.


The above two stories are just some of the many that I encountered there. 


``...every tribe and tongue and people and nation.`` Revelations 5:9 

Musings from Maasai Land

I have just returned from a three week stationing in Maasai Land; the following entry (the poetic piece) is mostly taking from my journal jottings on July 25th, 11.

I feel as if I have stepped into another world,
Rather, a historical version of this one; or dare I say a purer orthodoxy existence.
This is Maasai Land.

Cattle graze the fields freely,
Lanterns still remember the warmth of their flame and light rooms.
Wood fires heat pots for meals.
Children play un-fenced and outside.
Visitors are a blessing and welcomed guests.

Wild animals roam - wait should I call them wild?
Animals here aren't so labeled, they just are,
for man-made bars have yet to define them as such.
Monkeys and Baboons rest in tall Acacia trees that grace the river.
Zebras and Impalas stampede past shepherds that keep their flock with a song.

But alas a hinge point in history is upon us.
Things are about to change. forever. an orthodoxy challenged once more
On this the eve of a new horizon.

The lion's roar that threatens cattle can be speared to silence,
But this new challenger broke the back of the ages -- modernity.
Government flexes its weight and makes forceful advances,
"Claim your land, divide and conquer OR, loose it forever.
Cause Babel is being built, throw in your brick or scatter."

----
OK maybe a little over the top with the choice wording of "Bable".
----
It's absolutely interesting. The Maasai people are one of the few warrior tribes still remaining here in Kenya, still maintaining ancient traditions. Men carry swords and have endured lengthy warrior training to pass into manhood, women are adorned with colorful garb and are decorated with beads from head to toe that also give style to their elongated ears. The land is open (no property rights here) and shepherds lead their animals anywhere and everywhere to find greener pastures. It is the most otherly place I have ever visited, however their lifestyle is about to change, demarcation is in process (sectioning off of land for personal ownership).

The Maasai have always been pastorlists, (my diet while living amongst them mostly amounted to goat meat!) but with the population of Kenya growing the government is now demanding (and I suppose rightly so, the consequence of modernity) that the Maasai people lay claim to "their" land and section it off into homesteads. This will drastically change their lifestyle. It inevitably means they'll need become farmers and small-scale livestock owners (some currently own thousands of cattle). I wonder what will come of these people? Will their culture die like so many other African tribes or will they endure the test of time? This world is continually changing, I only hope we can maintain our unique and hopefully righteously harmonious differences and not morn the loss of them.  I think I will end this blog with words from a song Kate and I wrote called Dancing Daffodils.

Don't let them steal your colors,
Don't let steal dance.
Just keep dancing, dancing Daffodils...

The Homestead

This post is a visual display of my abode in Mengit (SW Kenya). I have been living on this rural homestead since June. The family I live with is great, such a blessing and a good fit for Peter and I. I am really enjoying living in a mud hut, the simplicity of life has been a restful experience, lantern-lit nights are charming, and buckets showers at sunset revive the heart.

Also, this thought has gone through my head, I won't tell you where but maybe you could guess... if I ever have a house in N.A., would anyone ever visit me if an outdoor latrine was the only washroom option??  Ha. Probably not, but hey I would save lots on plumbing!

All and all, I am realizing that living in this village can be a very refreshing experience, not sure how i would fare after months on end but I'm more than contented knowing that I have enjoyed this lifestyle thus far. Thank you Jesus for this otherly experience. It's making me continue to question the "necessities" of comfort contraptions I live with live in Canada, and if technological social companions are keeping us from knowing our neighbors, are they healthly comforts?! OK, everything in moderation right?... Just thoughts, it is a blog entry after all.

 The entrance... Karibou! (welcome)

The Kitchen (they have separate housings for cooking). Mama Sarah is a great cook, we usually eat ugali (Maize flower with water) with some sort of side dish which could include greens or goat. Other options, chicken with rice and potatoes -- a favorite of mine.

 The storage hut for harvested crops. They grow Maize corn, beans, and various other types of veggies.

 The entrance to mine and Peter's room.

 We built a hand-washing station (hws)! For after latrine cleaning we used to have to walk back to the house and collect water and find soap and so on. And believe it or not many people here are just now learning the importance of hand cleaning. This hws is now fixed with a wooden post and the gutter that feeds the bucket with rain water is now properly propped on the roof of the latrine. This design came to me during prayer, we are hoping that the locals accept it as an hws option.

 As far as rural latrines go, this one is a GOOD example.

 Hanging my clothes after hand-washing them, a recent skill I have acquired.

L-R: Me, Fetus (a son of Sarah), Mama Sarah, and Peter

Rhythms to Remember (Part two)

Part one continued...

As we sat and talked the older gentlemen reached for his 1958 (personally-made handcrafted) acoustic guitar that had finger imprints - experience showing - embedded in its fretted neck. The old rustic classic came alive in his hands as he played to a tuning that was charming but unfamiliar to me, I just sat there joy-filled at this visit (yes, I fully realize that the acoustic guitar is a western influence – globalization isn’t all bad). He played songs softly and it sounded great as he sang tunes in his native language. He then looked up to me and asked if I would play?  I humbly took this gem of an instrument and tried to find a tuning that could match a song I have written and this tune surfaced… an untitled song (I wrote it just before leaving SSU in April).

(Verse one)

Rendezvous at the meeting place on Main Street,

Just above that pioneering river,

Right besides Professor Fitch's house,

You know the place I’m talking about.

(Chorus)

Where crosses and culture’s collide x2

And as we fumble our way through,

May we be the fragrance of You.

(Verse two)

We go to this university,

In an old and worn out town.

But both have resurrection in their bones,

Lord, please keep breathing on these bones.

(Chorus)

(Verse three)

There was a vision of a mountaintop,

And everyone trying to get there their own good way,

But may we always remember

The King laid a narrow passageway.

(Chorus)

(Bridge)

I know that we

may not always see,

him the same,

but may we, always try

and honor Him.

I thank God for this visit, for music, and for the opportunity to have been there to hear this man play. But also for Him giving me the strength and willingness to play for this older gentleman as well -- I could not do this without Him and without the strengthening love He has shown me. I also thank Him for life lessons such as this one regarding hospitality.

Rhythms to Remember (Part One)

Show hospitality to one another without grumbling. -- 1st Peter 4:9

The older gentlemen welcomed us into his hut (we were doing follow-ups). When we sat down for chai tea he began to tell us stories of the ancient days. He mentioned how in generations past their people (the kalengin) were more hospitable folk (and to my surprise, as I have felt very welcomed by so many here). As we sipped tea he told us of a probable reason -- western influence... 

“We used to eat outside,” he said “so that when neighbours walked by they knew that they were welcomed to join us in the meal [a communal affair]. We would also do this to ensure that if there were any hungry neighbours they would see us and be welcomed at the “table” for some food.  Now we eat inside like they do in the West." 

Sad, eh? I don’t know how I can practically incorporate this hospitable tradition into my own life, but when I was back at in St. Stephen’s at the Turners visiting Kate (quite frequently), they always welcomed me to their table for food, (great cooks btw). I hope to reflect this sense of hospitality in my own life – in Jesus’ name.

Oh Oh this sullied melting pot -- globalization -- that you would cease your incessant boil and brewing in regards to cultural identity mishmash. And that the remnant (traditional) indigenous groups would realize that the west surely doesn’t have it best in most regards.  To evangelism: that the salvation of nations does not mean that everyone becomes like the western folk, especially the Hollywood version of our culture, after all... surely Jesus was Jewish.

This blog continues in part #2...

Treasure in Heaven

¹⁹ "Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. ²⁰But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in or steal; ²¹ for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."  -- Matthew 6:19-21

                
                Untitled

I've been to the green mile,
where harvest fields and people smile.
Children come up and grasp your hand,
"Please toss me into the air my friend."

Here in Kenya, rural Africa.

In the 50's oh how they drew,
their prayers were answered and in they flew.
Pastors, developers, and doctors too,
wisely understanding that the American Dream just won't do.

Welcome to Kenya, rural Africa.

Jesus telling tales of treasure,
decide you which barn, in heaven or earth below.
Cause where your heart is your love will show,
Oh where will your treasure grow?

Here in Kenya, rural Africa...

-- a poem/song I have recently penned.

My stay in Tenwek is almost through. Yet, not all together, I will revisit this green oasis consistently in the days to come; on weekends I will venture back from my rural village hut to do reports and data entries in Tenwek's main offices. 

This place has inspired me, the family physicians and surgeons here are humble and down to earth, as one might expect -- they are serving on the mission field! These medical workers could be accumulating much wealth here on earth to further their earthy kingdom with barns (banks) filled with gold (money), but instead they work for nothing, in fact they have come here on the wings of generosity. Many of these family physicians and surgeons actually need to raise financial support from churches and individual donors to be able to finance their time here. Like most longterm missionaries working overseas, they work for the glory of Christ and are storing their treasure in heaven to one day reap abundantly. Yes, meeting people like this here in Tenwek and seeing the work they do is truly inspiring.  

I suppose I admire these surgeons to a degree because they are seemingly (outwardly and visibly) reflecting a life (an inward reality) of deep commitment to Christ, they could be the kings of our society, yet reflecting the character and life of the King of kings, Jesus, they are giving up this role to serve to poorest of the poor. Reflections to think about.

Love in Christ,

Geoff