kenyajournal

Megan's Kenya Journal

I decided that I would provide those interested (or if there are no takers, just me then) the journal that I kept while I was in Kenya. The reasons I am putting this on a public place on the internet are three-fold. One, it keeps it in a more secure and accessible place than a notebook that I will undoubtedly lose. Two, it makes up for all the journalling days I missed while being out of the country. And third and most important, it provides some illumination on what went on with me while I was away. To sit down and explain all the changes I went through would be pretty much impossible. So if the inquiry is made, here is the solution. It's long. Very long. And it isn't edited and nothing is taken out. This is the raw copy of my thoughts as they happen and I scribble them down on pieces of paper. So here it is, uncensored, unabridged, and no one's names have been changed.

Thursday, February 12th, 2004

I had a lot of last minute packing to do today. I was a half hour late taking my bags up to the ad building. I had the horrible feeling that I was forgetting something important (which later turned out of be about six things).

At 1pm Ashley, Carrie, me, Jeff, Dave, and Jon all met in the prayer room to pray. Since the three girls are going to Kenya, each of the guys picked a girl to pray for. Jeff picked Carrie, Dave picked me, and Jon picked Ashley. It was a really encouraging experience. I don't often get to pray with my friends, though I'd like to definitely do more of it. There's no better way to know, understand, and maintain a relationship with a person than through prayer with them. It's just such an open and honest expression of love and commitment.

After we got done, the Kenya group, members from the other mission groups, and anyone else who wanted to join gathered in a large circle to offer more prayers. I felt an overwhelming sense of unity in the group. Whether a person goes on a mission trip or supports it through money and/or prayer, the body is still being edified. What's good for the body is good for its members.

We packed up and headed for the airport. We all checked our bags (and I checked my guitar - I hope it'll be okay). We all got through all right except Amanda. She'd called the post office earlier and they told her that her passport should still be good, but it wasn't. So she has to go back to the school and leave for Chicago tomorrow and get a same day passport renewal and then take a flight from Chicago to London to Nairobi a day behind us. I felt so bad for her that this happened - my heart just broke. She will still probably make it to Nairobi with us, but I know she felt like an inconvenience, I would in that situation. Plus, no one wants to miss out on the group activities. Luckily, Becci went with her so she won't be alone. We really have no way of knowing whether or not they're able to come - so let's just hope they show up at the airport on Sunday.

We arrive in Londone early tomorrow morning. I'm excited beyond belief. Have you ever loved a place you've never been to? Kind of like when I think of the man I will one day marry - there's an assurance that I will have an abundant love for him even though I have no clue who he is. There's just something inside of me that has always told me that I would love Europe. Though I don't plan on marrying it.

Friday, February 13th, 2004

We arrived in London this morning. It didn't register that I was in a different country at this point because I was still in the airport, even though I had exchanged money by this time. When we reached customs, they told Esther that she couldn't go on with us because her Visa allowed her to be in the United States, and that she would have to be coming from Kenya to go anywhere else because that's where her citizenship was. She wouldn't let anyone stay behind with her. We're dropping like flies.

Despite all of that, we ended up doing a lot today. The Underground (subway), called "The Tube" connects directly to Heathrow Airport, so we bought tickets and I rode in a subway for the first time in my life.

After our ride was over, we arrived at Piccadilly Circus and came up to the Square. I looked around, my mouth gaping for a moment, and I shouted, "I'm in London, baby!" And Megan's heart grew three sizes that day.

It took us a LONG time to figure out how the bus system worked. After asking for help, being mocked by native Londoners, and basically wandering aimlessly around bus stops, we finally made a method of the madness. I rode double-decker buses in London.

With the buses as our mode of transportation to see the sights, we actually romped around London quite a bit. I had the chance to see sights that I'd only seen in movies. I ran my fingers through the fountain water at Trufulgar Square. I marvelled at the Houses of Parliament. Big Ben told me the time (though I saw no sign of Peter Pan or the Grizwalds). I touched Westminster Abbey. I took a picture of the Tower of London. I crossed the London Bridge and breathed the London air over the River Thames. I watched the changing of the guards in front of Buckingham Palace. I ate a burger in Hard Rock Cafe London. I quoted Romeo and Juliet and Hamlet in Shakespeare's Globe Theatre. I feel so blessed and honored to even have been in London for a day.

My premonitions of a deep love for Europe were realized and assured today. It just reiterates the fact that a part of me has always wanted to live in another country. I could totally live in London. I could move to the Dominican Republic in a minute. I'm sure when we get to Kenya, I'll fall in love with it as well. Each country and culture has its own beauty, its own romance to it. I want to be a part of God's work in another country.

I want to live a life that is extraordinary in its simplicity. I want to fall in love and get married and raise a family. Above all, I want to serve God. But I wonder if a life in a country where Christendom still exists is what's in store for me. I wonder if a life of working, raising 2.5 children in a normal house and going to church every Sunday is too comfortable. I'm still not sure if God gives every person a specific "calling." I just know that I haven't received one yet. The command that I've been given is to love and serve God wherever I'm at. I just fear being too comfortable. It's definitely something to pray about. I would love to be a cross-cultural missionary, and I have skills that are useful in many ministry endeavors. But I also know that even the city of Lansing is a mission field, and I can effectively reach people who are close to me in proximity. I thank God that he has instilled in me a love for people and the desire to reach the lost and comfort the hurting. Thank you, Jesus, for the depth of my compassion. And also for my passionate spirit, though it does get me into trouble sometimes.

Well, we're now on our way to Nairobi, somewhere over the Sahara Desert. There are so many places on this earth that I want to go. I want to experience God's goodness in other cultures. I wonder if I'll ever get the opportunity to travel. I just wonder if this is a selfish desire. One step at a time, Meg, one step at a time.

Saturday, February 14th, 2004

Africa is everything I imagined it to be. I haven't seen any animals yet, so it still isn't completely registered that I'm here. When we drove through town, though, I couldn't help but marvel over the people. The Masai shepherds, the street vendors, the playing children, even the crazy drivers and honking vehicles made me happy.

This place reminds me a lot of the DR, which is odd because it's on the other side of the world. As we were driving through Nairobi, aside from all the signs being in English instead of Spanish, I couldn't get over how much it was like Santiago.

There's always a little something being in another country doing mission work that gives me a peace, an incredible joy, and an overwhelming feeling of a glorious homecoming. Why do I feel so at home in a place I've never been? Maybe it's because I am seeing brothers and sisters. Maybe it's because I'm seeing more of the body and it reminds me of my true home that will be fully realized when the Lord returns. Maybe it's the beauty of God's creation - the sights, the sounds, the culture. I get to spend Valentine's Day falling in love with the people of Kenya.

Peter is so excited that we're here. I've never seen so much joy in a person's face. His joy was matched by Esther's. Her parents and sister met her at the airport. She hadn't seen them in SO long.

THe more I learn through overseas missions, the more I desire to be a part of it. Seeing Esther with her family made me think, though. If I were a missionary, I wouldn't see my family for a very long time. I could no longer depend on them to bail me out of trouble. I would miss them so much. I would miss my dad's humor and affection, my mom's willingness to make my life as enjoyable as possible, and the fact that I'm never lacking love in their presence. I would miss so much of my brother's life. If I left in two years, I would miss his graduation, seeing him off to college, and depending on how long I'm gone, possibly his wedding. I suppose that I could always come home for all of these things, but I would miss my family so very much. I suppose that if I were married it would be easier, because the most important person in my life would be there with me. But would I really want to raise children in another country? I'm listening to "The Scientist" by Coldplay right now and the lyrics go, "Nobody said it was easy; no one ever said it would be this hard." If God called me, I would go. No qualms, no complaints. Would it be painful? Sure. But I don't have to worry about pain because I'm in the comfort and protection of the Almighty God. Where's the need to get upset in that?

The hotel we're staying in is phenomenal. It's a lot like an American hotel. This is the nicest I've seen for a mission trip (though sleeping on mats on the floor was quite the experience). We have beds, warm showers, and a TV. Part of me feels like we're being too pampered and that it's like a wussy mission trip. Because I honestly don't mind mats on the floor and washing with cold water from a bucket. But the point of a mission is to reach the people and understand them better. They are encouraged to have us even here. It is part of Kenyan culture to five your guests the best that you have, and they would be offended if we didn't accept all of their hospitality.

It makes me think. Sometimes I wonder how I was born into privelege. What makes me so special? I was raised in a loving home with all needs taken care of. I have blessing on top of blessing. Why? Why did God pick me to have this life? Did he think that I couldn't handle anything other that the easy road? This is what I think, though. And I'm open to being wrong. But I wonder if he didn't just put more responsibility on me. I have the means to go and reach a lost world. I have the money or am able to acquire the money to go into all the world. I am in the process of receiving a Bible college education. God has given me knowledge and wisdom and blessings to share. Not to keep to myself. The more blessings he gives, the more he expects you to bless others. This is something that in an age of Christendom and watered-down Christianity we tend to forget. Being a Christian has become too personal. The Bible talks about being a body, about blessing one another, about reaching a lost world, and so, so much less about personal relationships. People talk about their "personal faith" when the Bible says that there is ONE faith! Not that individual relationships with God are unimportant. But if our only goal was to maintain a one-on-one relationship with God, then why would God give to use and command us to have relationships with others? We show our love for him through our love for his body, his people. To seclude ourselves is to disrespect him. I pray that my circumstances will never allow me to forget the importance he places on relationships. I pray that I won't seclude myself because it's easy and safe. I pray that I won't become too comfortable. I pray that I will not only depend on him, but that he would allow me to use my blessings to bless others.

Sunday, February 15th, 2004

It's somewhere around 3:30am. Jetlag made all three of us wake up at the same time. We don't even have to be up for another 3 hours. We're journaling right now to kill the insanity.

Carrie and I were just talking briefly about her and Jeff's relationship. Maybe it's because it's 3:30am, maybe that's what makes me think silly thoughts. I am so happy for Jeff and Carrie. I hope their relationship lasts a really long time.

A selfish part of me started yelling inside the loudest. "I want that!" it screamed. And I couldn't help but agree with it. I do want that. I want a relationship. It's not like I haven't had relationships in the past or even been offered them since I came to college. I don't know. I want to desire to be with someone. I want to love someone that much. I want to give him everything, entrust in him my hopes, my fears - my life. I want to praise God with him. I want to be in ministry with him. I want to put the work into a relationship. I want to fall in love with his smile. I want to feel the touch, talk with him for hours and wake up at his side. There�s a very real possibility that I will have this one day, but sometimes it just strikes me like this and I wonder where the heck he is. It makes me feel guilty for thinking all of this. I should have more faith in God than this. I feel like the girl in high school who whines about how much she wants a boyfriend. I�m on a mission trip for crying out loud, and all I can think about is that I want him to share it with. I want something that lasts. I�m tired of being so romantic with no outlet. I want to be married. Boooo. Ugh, I�m going back to sleep (a.k.a. lying in my bed awake, probably going through phases of thinking this and being angry with myself for allowing it).

The silly phase has ceased. Now onto the importance of the mission trip.

We woke up (or for us girls, stayed up) at 6:45am and had a rather large breakfast. Funny Kenya fact: I�ve hated pineapple ever since I can remember. In Kenya? So good. How weird is that.

We left after breakfast and took the bus to Oasis Kenya church. In Kenya, time works much differently that it does in the U.S. Hardly anything happens when it�s supposed to. Brides show up for their weddings an hour late. You might say you�re having a party at 3:00 and it�s supposed to start at 6:00. It�s really very beautiful and admirable that people aren�t in a huge rush all the time like back home. However, for a girl who hates to be late and unscheduled, it�s very difficult. We were supposed to leave for church at 8am and we didn�t leave until 8:30am. It drove me crazy. That would take a lot of getting used to.

We arrived at the church � did I already say that? Anyway, the service was so interesting. It was outside, for one thing. Then they started singing in their language which sounded so very African. I can�t even begin to describe how amazing it was. I wanted to dance and laugh and cry all at the same time � but instead, I smiled and clapped. Through this worship service I�ve decided that I would like to buy a djembe and learn African beats. In a perfect world, Megan. I hope that in Heaven I can play all instruments all day long. Except for the clarinet.

We had a melting pot of culture and language in the service. Whenever someone spoke, it had to be translated from English to Swahili to Masai and reverse. The service was really long, but it was fun. It�s amazing to me how connected I felt to these people that I�d never met before and that I couldn�t even talk to (outside of �Bwana Asifiwe�). It�s amazing to me how the blood of Christ unites us and allows us to love people before we meet them. It probably shouldn�t surprise me every time the Lord does something amazing.

After church, we went to the Masai village to visit some members of Peter�s congregation. The people live in mud/cow dung huts reinforced with wood topped with tin or tarp roofs. They were no taller than I. The Masai people were so excited and encouraged to have us there and inside their homes.

The clich� response would be that I realize how blessed I am because of others who are less fortunate. I think that�s a human response. Instead, it was incredibly humbling. David, for instance, is a Masai elder. He built his house on his own and lives there with his wife and two children. He was so proud of what he had and offered his home to us, small though it was. He was encouraged by our presence and we prayed over his home. He was beaming. How much do I depend on my material wealth? I take so many things for granted. I have a computer, a TV, DVD player, microwave, refrigerator, phone, electricity, running water, and toilets all within my dorm room or ten steps away. I have a car to drive me places the Masai would have to walk to. Here I am riding on my high horse when the Masai have 1% of what I have materially but probably more faith and joy than most Christians allow themselves to have. Yeah, that�s pretty humbling.

The children are so beautiful. The culture here is to greet them by touching the tops of their heads. I greeted them this way and said �Karibu� (welcome), making sure not to forget any of them. The smiles on their faces were from ear to ear. It�s a huge honor to be greeted this way. They warmed up to us pretty quickly and held onto my hand and sat on my lap. They were fascinated with the color of my skin and kept pinching me. The texture of my hair was a marvel to them as well, and they kept touching it (and grabbing handfuls in hopes of keeping a piece, apparently).

The Masai people are wonderful.

We left the village and went to Peter�s house, which is very nice. He has running water and electricity. Overall a very nice place to live. After a few minutes spent there, we loaded ourselves up on the bus, and our driver, Moses, led us to the hotel rooms that were promised to us. After that, we heard about Peter�s vision (and I kept falling asleep � still experiencing a good amount of jet lag).

Peter�s vision is beautiful. However, it�s frustrating to me that this trip is so unorganized. I need structure. I need organization. I understand that Peter is just beginning to take groups and there are a lot of wrinkles to iron out. I understand that we�re kind of like guinea pigs. It�s still really hard for me. Because I have no structure of my own, I rely on others to provide that. Which probably isn�t good. But it doesn�t make it any less difficult to function.

Monday, February 16th, 2004

Woke up grumpy today. I�m not really sure why. It didn�t last very long and I didn�t really take it out on anyone, it was just one of those feelings.

Amanda and I got a chance to talk at breakfast. It was really, really nice. I�m so glad that she and I are becoming good friends. She is such a great person.

Our conversation at breakfast was about living in another country fulltime (and also about running away together). Neither of us feel like there�s anything holding us back from doing this. I don�t have anything keeping me in the United States. My family knows I�m moving away eventually � it might as well be to another country. The only thing is, no matter how badly I want it, if I didn�t feel the Lord was leading me, I wouldn�t go. I mean, sure, if I married a missionary, I would go with him. But what if I marry a minister? Or a stockbroker? What if I don�t get married at all? Would I really move away all by myself? These are definitely factors that could change the outcome. I think I�m putting way too much thought into this and not nearly enough prayer.

After breakfast, Carrie, Ashley, and I went swimming in the pool in the hotel. It was really refreshing and really odd to me to be able to go swimming on a mission trip. This gave me two thought tangents. First, this almost doesn�t feel like a real mission trip. Which is silly, because one trip to a Masai village to see so many encouraged faces was worth the trip to Africa. I just almost feel guilty for being so pampered. I know it is their culture to treat us this way, I just think that a mission trip is going to the people on as many levels as possible. Maybe I�m wrong.

The second thing it made me think about was a little more strange to me. As we were swimming, I thought, �You know, Dave would really love this.� And then it hit me. I miss people back home. And it was odd for me, because it is a rare occasion for me to miss a person this badly. The more I thought about it, the sadder I got. But I began to realize that it wasn�t that I was homesick for them, even though I miss them. It was the feeling that I so much longed for and wished that everyone that I care about could be here with me, experiencing what I�m experiencing. So much of me can�t wait to come home and tell my stories and show my pictures, but I know that it will never be the same. I can only hope that through the changes that take place in my heart, people will know the strength of God. He�ll work through the changes in me and the other group members.

Later the same day:
This afternoon, we went to the Nakamatt (grocery store) and bought lunch foods for sandwiches and stuff. After that, we went out to work on the land.

Let me first of all say that Peter�s land is incredibly beautiful. It�s set in a plain covered with a sea of grass; scattered about are a few trees and there are hills in the distance on three sides. There�s an incredible breeze that sails through the valley that cools everything down. It rained today, which brought beautiful rolling clouds and a gorgeous rainbow.

Let me also say that me saying earlier that this �wasn�t a real mission trip� � total crap. The sole purpose of a mission trip is to shine light into the dark places and to encourage brothers and sisters. It�s not to build something, I�m pretty sure most places you go, the natives can do the work a lot better than we can. That was the case in the DR. It�s not to learn about other cultures, though that is beneficial. It�s to encourage and it�s to spread the message that Jesus saves. The people we�ve reached so far are the reason I�m here. Peter is the reason I�m here. The Masai and the Kikuyu and the Kamba are the reason I�m here. Bringing glory to God in all lands is the reason I�m here. An increase in my growth is just gravy.

During our work time today, Becci and I walked to the dry river bed. The land is grassy, the tall grass that you�d imagine to be in an African savannah. What they don�t tell you is that there are thorns EVERYWHERE. They break through your clothes, shoes, skin � it hurts. We made it to the dried river bed � which was beautiful. There was a tree growing on the edge of where the river would be in the rainy season, and you could see the tree roots growing the side of the embankment. Seeing a tree is nothing new to me. But seeing the roots of a living tree � that�s something you don�t see every day. It seems so unimportant, yet the roots are what provide the tree with nutrients and they are what secures the tree into the soil when the winds or storms come. It just put everything into perspective. It reminded me a lot of Matthew 13 where Jesus tells the parable of the sower. Toward the end of the chapter, he explains that those who are not �rooted� only last for a short time, because when the evil one comes, he snatches away what has sown in the person�s heart, because what was told was not understood (this is by no means verbatim). It�s just so important to remember this on a mission trip. Anyone can hear the good news and claim to believe it. But we have to teach people to grow roots. Roots are the only way to draw strength from the Master, the only way to have lasting faith. We must allow people to believe through our love (which is �rooted and established,� as Paul teaches in Ephesians) that Jesus is the only life-giver. Our words are not what does it. If our words were the most important thing, then we could do nothing here. Our love is what makes the difference.

Off of the tangent (which was a pretty good tangent, though) and back to Becci and me. On our way back to the bus, we were joking about how you always picture lions crouching in grass like we were walking through. Suddenly, about 10-20 feet away from us, we heard a rustle in the grass and then spotted something leap out of it. We both stopped dead in our tracks and looked to see what it was. There was a gazelle, bounding away from us. It was incredible. What a blessing it is to experience God�s creation.

Much, much later tonight, Larry shared a devotion with us. His passage was something from Galatians, I don�t really remember what it was. But he shared with us an ancient African proverb: �Hurry hurry has no blessing.� I thought that was really cool. Time is such an �important� thing to Americans. Being here, though, is the polar opposite. Time moves much slower. Time is a blessing. No one wears a watch. No one gets impatient. No one is stressed out because they�re late or they have a deadline they can�t miss. I so wish that Americans could be better stewards of their time.

Tuesday, February 17th, 2004

So I apologize to any boy who may read this ever, but I�m writing down my thoughts and concerns, and this just happens to fall under the latter category. I got my period this month, as per usual. I�m pretty regular when it comes to that. However, this has been going on for 9 days now, which concerns me, because this has only happened once (the first one was two weeks long). I don�t know if it�s the temperature, the altitude, diet changes, or what. I just want it to quit it.

And now onto more gender friendly issues. We left at around 10am to go out to the land. It rained all last night, so the roads were pretty muddy. Let me explain something before I go on. There are like two nice roads in Kenya. All of the rest of them are dirt or no road at all (we�re doing a lot of off-roading here in Africa). The road on the way to the land is mostly � nay, ALL � dirt. Dirt mixed with water makes what, boys and girls? That�s right. Mud. We got stuck. The bus was squealing its tires, so some of us (the boys) got out and started pushing. Soon there were natives along helping us as well. I can safely say that a good 20 people were pushing the bus and it never moved. After the umpteenth time of bus stuckness, we got out and walked � 3 and a half miles. In sweltering heat. On the way to dig holes and put in fence posts. For some reason, I found this rather humorous. Needless to say, we arrived at the land at a little after 2pm exhausted. They got a good 3 hours out of us. I�m an avid hole-digger (I know my way with a shovel) so I mostly did that and used a blade to cut the grass (who would�ve thought that they�d let me use a machete). Also, I had to rest because the altitude makes me sick, which makes me feel like a total wuss. I can climb mountains back home without any problems, but send me to Kenya and I almost pass out. Who knew.

I realized today that some attitudes on this trip are not the greatest. Sure, we got stuck in the mud. Sure, we had to walk a ways. I didn�t want to do it, either, even though I found a lot of humor in it (actually, I secretly found it kind of fun). But no matter what happens, I�m trying to remain joyful. Whether it�s keeping peppy during the 3 and a half hour trek, singing while I�m working, or just plain smiling and encouraging people � I�ve really been trying to make this a positive experience for everyone. Some people look at me like I�m annoying or retarded, or just plain tell me to settle down. This somewhat discourages me, but I can�t lose my optimism just because some people don�t respond. The people who are the most negative need encouragement the most, and it�s worth it for those who do respond.

Overall, though, this mission trip is extraordinary. I thin ka lot of it is due to the amount of maturity we have. No one is younger than a sophomore and there are many older students and faculty keeping us in check. Another think I appreciate is that there are no boys. The only males we have are older and married. That keeps all the silly romance/relationship crap away from the trip (which isn�t all the time a bad thing, I just know that it soured a lot of things in the DR). We find a lot of unity despite the diversity, which I enjoy.

I really appreciate my time with Ashley and Carrie and Amanda � probably my three closest friends. I�m sharing a room with Ashley and Carrie, which is so fun; and I�m spending a lot of my other time hanging out with Amanda. I�m enjoying our friendships more and more every day.

I�m very content. I had a spout of weirdness before I came on this trip, but it has subsided and I�m very happy. I�m more smiley. I�m not as sarcastic. I actually like who I�m changing into. I�m also really tired, though, which means that it�s time for bed.

God is such a great God, isn�t he?

Wednesday, February 18th, 2004

I woke up this morning after a terrible dream. Ashley (in the dream) wrote me a nasty letter, denounced our friendship, and moved out of our room at school. Needless to say, it kind of upset me. I thought I was over the whole �fear of abandonment� issue. I was hurt a lot in middle school and high school and my first year of college, but I�ve been trusting people more and fearing less that they would desert me � especially with Ashley. This dream really caught me off guard.

Other than that, this was my favorite day so far. Today was the day we drove into Miori to the house that Peter grew up in.

I thoroughly enjoyed the ride over. There are few things I enjoy more than riding down the road on a sunny day with the windows open and the breeze on my face. I popped Jars of Clay into the CD played and had myself some good Megan in Kenya quality time.

OH funny story. We stopped at a gas station on the way to the mountains; I was in a window seat and Esther was behind me. Next to the pump on the curb were seated about seven or eight Kenyan young men. They started talking to Esther in Swahili and as I looked back at them, they were pointing at me. So I inquired about this. Apparently, they kept asking Esther for my name, and Esther kept asking why, and they kept persisting. Esther asked the one who was the most persistent why they wanted to know my name out of all the girls on the bus. And he said, �She�s all I need for the rest of my life,� and proposed marriage to me. Yeah, so good times. Definitely not used to being hit on. Esther said it was because of my dimples, I guess they really like them. As Carrie says, �beggars can�t be choosers.� Let�s just say that there will be no begging from Megan Husch.

After the whole gas station extravaganza, we started our drive into the mountains. Hands down, a contender for the most beautiful part of God�s creation that I�ve seen with my own eyes. I wish so hard that I could describe or put into words how beautiful it all was. It stole my breath and made me smile in thanksgiving to the Almighty Artist. But I know that a photograph won�t live up to the experience that comes from taking it in with your own eyes, and eventually time will pass and my memory will fail me. So I�ll remain grateful for those precious, glorious moments that God granted me such a peace.

We arrived at Peter�s house � a humble beginning for such an extraordinary man. His parents were so sweet. His mother beamed with pride as everyone told her how much her son blessed their life. His father got out his best clothes � a simple grey blazer � and tears filled his smiling eyes as we prayed over his family and his home. Peter was always told by his father that he would never amount to anything, and he became unwanted in his family and in his village. To see his father proud of him for the first time in Peter�s life � it was such a blessing to behold.

After we left the Chege home, we drove down the road to where Jane grew up (you can see Jane�s house from Peter�s, yet they never knew each other growing up; kind of ironic that they�re married now). One of the chief exports in Kenya is tea, and Jane�s late father owned a tremendous tea farm (which is now split between Jane�s two brothers). We had a chance to pick tea leaves (you pick �two leaves and bud� as Peter says). The soil is so rich (it�s a beautiful reddish brown) on the mountains, but since it�s so steep, farming is difficult. Not impossible, mind you. They farm down the mountain slopes, which is simply amazing.

After the tea leaf fiasco, we had a picnic near Jane�s house overlooking the valleys and mountains as far as you could see and then some. I felt so much joy, my skin was the only thing to keep me from bursting into a million directions, and even then, I felt stretched at the seams. I could have sat in that very spot for the rest of my days and have been happy as a clam.

The drive down the mountain was less sunny because the rain was coming. However, we drove down just as school let out and all of the children were walking home. I waved so much I felt like I was in a parade. But to see the looks on their faces � perfectly priceless. It was awe mixed with joy � it was so precious. Again, if words could only express. There was not one child I saw today that didn�t steal my heart away, not one that I didn�t desire to run around with, play with, or simply give a hug to. There are few sounds on this earth sweeter than the laughter of a child or their innocent voices � no matter what language is spoken. I should really start working with children more, I think. I love them too much not to.

I have so much joy here in Kenya. I feel like I�m actually encouraging to people. I�m content and peaceful. Anything bad could happen to me right now and it would all be taken in stride. I hope this is lasting. I hope that people see my changes upon my return. I want people to say, �You know, that Megan Husch � she�s a good woman.� I�m at least trying to be a good woman.

Thursday, February 19th, 2004

Work, work, and more work. Today was our final work day on the land. We finished the weed whackage (and I�ve got monster blisters to show for it) and got most of the barbed wire up for the fencing. My stomach is doing a little better today, though I�m still getting winded way quicker than I would normally. In the DR, I was Megan and Workhorse and in Kenya I feel like Megan the Superwuss. Kind of upsets me.

After the all-day work, we walked around the land and prayed over it. As I was walking, I prayed that the land would prosper and that it would be used to grow many �trees� (people rooted in Christ), and also that Peter would be blessed through this ministry. I thanked God for the opportunity to be here in Kenya serving him through his people. Then I stopped. I looked around me at the land, dimly lit as the sky prepared for dusk. Not often in Michigan do you get the chance to be in a place where there�s nothing to block your view of as far as you can see. On that land, I could see forever. I looked up at the sky, full of puffy, cotton candy clouds, still dancing with the last sunlight of the day. They sky was so blue and so vast � it looked like a giant, lighted dome above my head. And all at once, the world seemed so huge, and its creator so much larger. I stood and stared for what seemed like forever and a moment at the same time. So I looked to God and I listened to what he would say to me. A little background information before I go on: I�ve had a problem within the last few days of thinking about what I don�t want to think about in a place in which I don�t want to think about it. I�ve been worrisome, troubled, and concerned � you name it. So today, as I listened so intently for the voice of God, it told me simply this: �Trust.� I said, �Lord, I do trust you.� And he said to me, �No. Don�t just say you trust me. Just trust me.� And it was all in that moment that I realized how doubtful I�ve been of God�s ability to see everything through to the end. Good or bad, trusting God is essential. Circumstances will never change God, so why should my mind change my view of him?

On the ride back to the hotel, we all sang worship songs in the bus � such a blessing. All at once, Kendi told us to stick our heads out of the window and look up at the sky. It was pitch black, sprinkled with more stars than I ever could have imagined seeing in my entire life. Every once in awhile, I�d spot a shooting star. There are times when I wish I could paint a picture with words. There are moments when a picture is so far beyond words, you can only sit and repeat �it was so beautiful� over and over again. I see the face of God through his creation � in people and in nature. But a star-filled sky is the one thing that humbles me most, in its expanse and splendor; and it reassures in my heart the watchfulness of the Father. I could talk myself in circles for hours about this, though.

It�s kind of sad to me that this may have been the last time ever that I see Peter�s land. I may never be in Africa again, even though I want to (especially since they�re planning on roughing it in tents all week on Peter�s land for next year). I get really restless when I can�t be everywhere at once. It makes me want to start praying for the gift of omnipresence.

I�m really tired right now and really goofy. I�m conjugating French verbs in my head to pass the time. Yes, my dorkiness comes out. As much as I love it here in Africa, part of me is somewhat ready to go home on Sunday. I really miss talking and laughing with my friends. And there are so many stories and things I want to share with them. But for now, it is time for bed, so I�ll lay down on my folded-in-half, hold-in-the-middle pillow and wait until morning.

God is good.

Friday, February 20th, 2004

I woke up this morning at 7:30am wide awake to discover that I�ve lost my ability to sleep in. I was somewhat distraught. I was really good at that.

My stomach gave me some problems again this morning and I had another �episode� in the bathroom. It�s really frustrating. When I�m actually hungry and try to eat good, I take a few bites and lost my appetite. When I can stomach more than a few bites, the food won�t stay inside of me. I usually have a pretty strong stomach when it comes to food and stuff � I rarely ever throw up. For some reason, if you get me in another country, I turn into Supersick Girl. At least this year I don�t have a fever with a 103 degree temperature.

Today was pretty cool, though it was pretty uneventful. We left the hotel at around noon and drove for 2 and half hours to the Kamba village where they make elaborate wood carvings. They were beautiful. I spent more than I probably should have (even though I allotted myself enough money and planned out how much I was going to spend beforehand). I was getting a little nauseated and light-headed, as per usual when I spend a lot of money. I bought a TV a few years ago and almost passed out. If I ever buy a house, I�ll probably die. Anyway, I got a lot of cool stuff for my parents, my brother, friends, and myself. It was good times.

I did a lot of laughing today. Amanda and I listened to a comedy CD full of Bob and Tom songs, Budweiser commercials, and other funny extras. The rendition of the song �O Holy Night� by the man who sounds like he�s giving birth � so funny. I�ve heard it probably 20 times and it never gets unfunny. He took the whole �make a joyful noise� thing WAY too far.

I reemphasized my love of having fun today. I thoroughly enjoy goofing around and having fun. Sometimes it�s frustrating because people think that that�s all I am and that I lack depth and the ability to process a serious or genuine thought. However, on days when you�re tired, not feeling well, and just plain nerved-out, laughter and completely unserious fun is the only thing that gets you by. Plus, it is my belief that those who are the most clever are the ones with the ability to hide the fact that they are clever.

So there you go. A short entry for today. Just had some fun. I needed that today.

Saturday, February 21st, 2004

Today we set out to the church to worship with and say goodbye to the Masai. When we got there, the people greeted us so warmly with the biggest smiles I�ve ever seen. The men greeted us with handshakes and the women with the traditional greeting � a hug and a cheek-touch on either side. Several of them went through to greet me twice. It�s so amazing how much we�ve touched each other in such a short amount of time. The bonding blood of Christ strikes again!

The worship was amazing. We were all crammed inside the church causing a raucous for Jesus. At first, they sang in Masai and we just clapped and tried to sing as much as we could. After that, we sang �Asante Baba� for them and tried to teach them a little Swahili. Lastly, we sang two songs in our �mother tongue.� The first song was �Romans 16:19.� They laughed hysterically when we started doing the motions. Our second song was �Shout to the Lord.� After we were done singing, Peter asked me to say the lyrics so he could translate into Swahili and then Stanley would translate that to Masai. There�s something about what you�re saying being translated twice; and the end result being smiling faces and exclamations that are sure to be �Amens� and �Praise the Lords� in a language other than your own. It was neat (I�ve already overused the words amazing, incredible, glorious).

We had brought two suitcases full of clothes, soap, toothbrushes, toothpaste, toys, and other trinkets to pass out to them after the worship service. I wasn�t quite sure how I felt about that. I kind of felt like Santa Claus. I know in the DR, when we brought things to give to the Haitian immigrants, we were not allowed to give things personally, but they would be gathered together and given to the people by the church. That way the gifts were from God and not from us. I don�t want these people to see white people as Santa Claus. Maybe it�s different because we only gave to members of the church, so it was more like believers blessing brothers and sisters. I don�t know. It�s Peter�s church, so I�m sure he knows what he�s doing. It was a blessing, however, to see how happy they were to receive our gifts. We blew up balloons for them and that provided hours of entertainment. A Masai boy and I were doing �soccer headers� with one of them. Soccer (football) is a very big sport here, and since I�m not playing indoor this year, I need all the practice I can get.

Leaving the Masai broke my heart. I�ve never been this connected with people before. In the DR, I enjoyed the people that we worked with like Romano, Anhito, Calvin, Ezekiel, and others. And I, of course, loved the children. But here � I feel so attached already. I really desire to come back. I want to see the progress of Peter�s land. I want to be updated on the growth of the church. I want to see how big Peter�s daughter April will be in a year. I love Africa.

After we left the Masai, we went to this tourist shop where they have T-shirts and other Kenyan trinkets � not my cup of tea. I did find a wrap that I liked, though, and a little warrior statue for my brother.

Then off to the safari animal reserve parky thing! I think it�s called Nairobi National Park, but one cannot know for sure. Anywho, it was awesome. We drove through the park and saw the following animals in rough order: white egrits, water buffalo, a rhinoceros, zebras, antelope, heart beasts, �lans, ostriches, giraffes, a brown crane, and a hyena. It was freaking awesome. It hadn�t really registered that I was in Africa until the whole, �Holy crap, there is a giraffe ten feet away from me!� And while we�re on the subject, giraffes are enormous. It�s leg was as tall as the bus. I felt like I was watching a dinosaur. It got really close to the bus and five of its friends weren�t far behind. It was simply incredible. How can someone see a giraffe and not see that someone created it? It displays to me a God with perfect planning and perfect design.

This was a good day. I�m sort of out of things to say. Not that a lot didn�t stir in my heart today, it�s just beyond my ability to take that and regurgitate it to an intelligible piece of writing. To even try would look something like this :

*and then I scribbled on the paper a lot*

so I won�t try.

I�m in a very weird mood right now. I can�t explain it. It�s not goofy, it�s just�WEIRD. I�m weird. I don�t think it�s registered yet that we�re leaving tomorrow. I don�t wanna go. But I know I need to.

Sunday, February 22nd, 2004

Today was very laid back and relaxing. We had a chance to lay by the pool (and I actually got to read a lot of my book � who knew that reading for fun would be so difficult to find the time for in college). It felt really nice to kick back, I�m not gonna kid ya.

Leaving was really sad. We packed up. We moved out. We said goodbye. As much as I desire to come back in a year, I still may never see Stanley or Hannah or Catherine or Moses, or little April again. That�s heartbreaking to me. I love these people beyond the words of my mouth, beyond anything I could describe. This trip has sealed so many bonds and has spurred so many relationships. I know I shall see them in Heaven and they will always be my brothers and sisters, but there is an aching within me, a desire to spend more time loving them. I know I have pictures and a journal and gifts and trinkets all to remind me � but I�m so worried that I�ll forget. I don�t want to forget what I�ve learned here. I don�t want to forget what God is doing in Kenya. I don�t want to forget the love that I have shared with these people. And I want to be a part of what God is doing. Let it not be me working, but God working and me simply proclaiming his amazing power.

Saying goodbye to Peter and Jane was the most difficult. They both said to me that they expected to see me back very soon. Peter said to me, �Megan, I love you so much. Thank you for coming to do God�s work.� It was all I could do to choke back the tears that were ever-building.

I am now on a plane ready for take-off in the Nairobi airport. The flight safety procedures video teachs to make sure that your own oxygen mask is properly fastened before helping anyone else. I�ve been on several flights before and have always been awe-struck by how astonishingly backwards that is. It strikes me ten fold just fresh from a mission trip. I hope that I�m never more concerned with my own safety than that of the people around me. The Christian life doesn�t teach that. It teaches to help others and to put them before yourself. I just traveled to Africa on two-bit faith and a dream, and the vision of an unbreakable unity within the body of Christ. I�m gonna help someone out with their oxygen mask first, airplane safety people. What now.

I don�t want to leave.

Monday, February 23rd, 2004

Mmmm. Airplane breakfast at 3am. It�s a nice addition to the airplane dinner I had 3 hours ago. I tell you what, when I get my appetite back, it�s a fast food run for sure. I miss that I used to be able to kick back a large pizza, and now I can hardly finish a sandwich.

It�s still so surreal to me that I just came from Africa. Megan Husch was just in Africa. Unbelievable.

I don�t want to leave it. I keep picturing the Masai people in my head. I keep feeling the sun and the breeze. Pictures of rainbows and mountains and clouds and sunsets are reeling over and over inside my brain. The children�s� voices still echo in my ears. I don�t want to leave it. I know that my body is now somewhere over France, but my heart is still in Africa.

The flights took forever today. We were all so bored and anxious that we couldn�t sleep. The in-flight movies, euchre, and playing with a little Hindu boy a few seats up kept us busy for the London to Detroit flight. Then we endured a 1 and half hour drive to Lansing.

Coming home doesn�t feel as good as I�d anticipated. It feels as if I�ve been away forever, yet to everyone I left behind, it was only a short time. It�s hard to be so obviously different and return to a place that has remained the same. I�m still so deep in thought and digesting it all � I can�t be the same person I was before because I�m so different. I�m tremendously quiet. Something is tugging at me, making me almost upset, and I can�t put my finger on what it is. I�ve experience what I can�t put into words and what I can�t explain through stories, pictures, or even this journal. I�m at a total loss. I can�t concentrate on anything.

I�ve never been this sad to be home.

Kind of a disappointing ending to the journal. But I�ve learned so much � and I�ll get back into the swing of things. I just don�t ever want to forget.