Appleseed Travel Journal

— Let's Change Our World

As I head off to Africa this week, these words are ringing in my spirit.  “Let’s Change Our World.”  As I reflect on the needs that are all around me where I live and then the dire needs of those whom I will be with this month who live on so little, I still find myself wondering, “Can I believe that the Jesus-filled life really, truly has the ability to change a world?” I am concerned that we often lose faith and succumb to a life of survival rather than a life believing that we, as God’s people, are designed to turn our world upside down. I wrote this on my Facebook status as I was reflecting on this: Granted, we do want to change our world, we do want to see lives changed, we do care about others, but we often put our faith in the wrong things: government, churches, ministries, spiritual leaders, political leaders, others—and we forget that everything that is needed to change our world, make an impact, release Kingdom life, bring joy out of ashes, relieve suffering, and lift oppression is already in us.  It’s in us.  He’s in us.  He changes the world through us. And the tools are not political or religious, they are the basic tools that work when we work them: prayer, faith, generosity, love, stepping into who God made us to be, risking going where God leads.  It’s not that we don’t know these tools, it’s that we lose faith in them rather than exercise them into the world-changing potential that they have! Okay, so let me bring this down to my own life.  My heart is stirring.  I am going to Africa once more, but I do not want to just see more trainings, more churches, more handouts to the needy, more letters back home asking to support the “work” in Africa.  All of this may be quite good.  But my heart is seeking world-changing stuff.  Is that too big?  Too much to long for?  Can I believe for it? I have often quoted Max Lucado who said: “God has given this generation, our generation, everything we need to alter the course of human suffering.” The question is, do I really believe this?  And if I do, how does it impact my work among people whose needs are staggering? And then, am I willing to stir up the tools that God has given all of us and believe that they have world-changing, life-changing power in them… Prayer—I want to ask you who are praying with me to believe—really believe—that we are going to step into new dimensions of discipling people that will free them from poverty and give them the faith to change the lives of others—who will touch others—who will multiply life to still others. Faith—“I believe, help my unbelief.”  I want to step out of the limitations that come from thinking like this world—that our resources are limited, that I can only do what is “reasonable,” that miracles are rare.  I want to believe that God will unleash, from the band of leaders in Africa that I work with (and back home), a movement that will transform a world and stir hearts in every nation. Generosity—I want to live out the Abrahamic covenant that God is, even now, blessing me so that my life, and everything in it, can be a blessing to others through me.  I want to remove the limitations on how God wants to bless me, and I want to live out of the purpose for that blessing which is that others would be blessed through me. Love—I want to reawaken myself and the whole church to this truth: “They shall know me by your love.”  There is no greater power; Jesus has given this power to us by the Spirit; yet we are known by so many other things than love.  The time is now to change this.  His love through His people has the power to revolutionize our world. Risking—Risking to go and do whatever it is that God made us to go and do.  I am inspired when I see God raising up a generation of young people who want to change their world.  This is kingdom thinking!  This is God at work!  They are not just thinking in terms of starting churches, they want to see the kingdom come to every aspect of our world so that poverty is alleviated, leaders are just, love is more than just a word, and Jesus is glorified through the many powerful and creative ways He chooses to express Himself.  When the church is released to get out of the church walls and be the salt and light everywhere… everywhere… our world will turn upside down.  I want to think this way myself!  And risk going wherever and whenever. Therefore—my goals for my current trip are: 1.    Unleash these powerful, spiritual tools in my life.  Will you pray with me as I will pray that God will do the same for you? 2.    Believe in God’s power to change people, even the poorest of the poor, from the inside out.  Helping the poor is not just about giving them things.  In fact, this often is the worst thing we can do  It’s about the power of God’s word freeing them from the bonds of wrong-thinking that keep them in poverty.  This is a significant focus of this trip and I will share more as we go. 3.    Connect two-third’s world people with people at home—personally—and create some high touch connections between the two.  (More on this also as we go). Let’s Change Our World.  No one can do this alone, but together…

— Better Aid for the Poor & Broader Networking for Church Planters

I thought it good to mention two specific outcomes from our team leaders’ meeting in East Africa. The first has to do with a discussion that lasted most of one day on how best to aid the poor.  We coined the term “Organic Development” to describe a process that can literally change lives and nations from the inside out. Let me first mention a couple of definitions:

1.    Relief: emergency aid to people in crisis.  This applies to situations like Haiti where, earlier this year, an earthquake left people without food and critical supplies.  This type of aid simply involves just giving what we can to help those in crisis.

2.    Development: helping those in poverty to “develop” themselves by providing them with tools and/or resources that they can use to lift themselves.  The challenge here is to help people in need without creating ongoing dependency.  You want people to find freedom from their limitations and discover their own God-given dignity as they lift themselves up.

So, “Organic Development” involves helping people discover ways to help themselves in the natural process of transformation that takes place through discipleship and church planting. Just as the Gospel is passed relationally from one life to another, so organic development—the awareness of how to cooperate with God for blessing—is passed from one to another in the same manner.  It begins with the one (discipler) who is already living into the truth, power, and practical abundance of the Gospel—worldview, values, faith, etc.—and then it is passed from that person to the next as part and parcel of the Gospel being passed on.  It recognizes that good development always begins within a person who has embraced the kingdom truths that free him/her to cooperate with God in bringing increase and blessing.  The Gospel (impacting both the spiritual and practical aspects of people’s lives) then spreads organically from one to the next like yeast through a lump of dough.  It first impacts people on the inside, freeing them from their limitations, and then impacts their practical lives as they discover, through God’s leading, ways to step into greater practical abundance. In this process of development, there is still a place for outside resources to provide “seeds” which the poor can make use of to better their lives.  But they first learn to recognize that God is the source of their betterment, and that their own efforts in cooperating with God’s leading is the primary key (as opposed to outside, ongoing gifts). Whew… I know that is a mouthful of information… But we are very excited to see these African leaders come up with this definition and then outline a process that can lead to this type of dynamic inner and outer transformation.  The potential for this process is unlimited in seeing change take place first in people, then neighborhoods and regions. You can read a bit more here if you want. A second key outcome for these meetings was the networking that took place between our team members and a group called “New Generations.” This mission organization has raised up African church planting trainers that have been involved in some of the most powerful church planting movements on the continent.  For example, in Ethiopia they have seen over 4,000 churches planted in five years.  We were very happy to have Aila Tasse, from New Generations, join us for our time together allowing our team to develop synergistic relationships with him and the work of his organization.  It will be exciting to see the potential as future cooperative trainings take place throughout East Africa. So, that’s just a bit of the nuts and bolts of our leadership team outcomes.  We are excited to see how God continues to use these dynamic leaders.

— Friends I've Made Along the Way

Travel gives me so many opportunities to make new friends…especially in Kenya.  The melodic Kiswahili is as gentle and hospitable as the people themselves.  From the moment we landed at the Nairobi Airport, everywhere I looked there was someone I would love to sit and chat with for awhile. For example, standing, waiting to go through the never-ending line to get our visa and pass through customs, the opportunities were endless!!!  So many people to meet and so little time!!!  This particular time, I had to settle for chatting with the immigration official, so I initiated the conversation by immediately practicing my very limited Swahili, “Habari yako (Hello, how are you)?”  Confident in my pronunciation, I giggled out loud as she responded by pushing back her chair and laughing loudly, “Misuri (good)!”  Mistakenly she assumed I could carry the conversation further, so she jabbered on and on.  Shamelessly, I responded, “That’s it; that’s all I know!”  Forgiving me, she assured me saying over and over, “Karibuni, karibuni (you are welcome, very welcome!” – a phrase said often wherever we go, letting us know that people are genuinely happy to greet us.  The official went on further, though, by inviting me to just come and stay at her place for three months.  She was confident I would most assuredly know Kiswahili very well by then.  Smiling back at her,  I mused, “If only I really could.  What an experience that would be!” One day I traipsed off to the bank alone.  It was mercilessly hot walking through the dusty, people-filled streets to get there, but once inside the relatively modern building with the doors flung wide open and the customary armed security guard at the door, it was quiet and surprisingly cool.  I went to stand in the usual very long line of people waiting for one of two tellers.  Not believing it, I noticed the woman in front of me pull out her shawl and wrap it snuggly around her.  Then as she inched her way forward, I stepped into the spot where she had just been.  Amazing!!!  Streams of COLD air showered down on my head.  I quickly took off my backpack, laid it down and just basked in the coolness of the air.  Heaven, I’d just stepped into heaven!  I couldn’t resist telling the woman, “Ah, it feels so good, the air conditioning!”  She looked at me like I was nothing less than a nut case.  We had an extensive conversation with her laughing at me, trying to convince me of the horrors of ac and why would anyone ever enjoy it!  Still, I am not convinced!  For this lily white traveler in the heat and humidity of Africa, I welcomed the small circle of air, hating to step out of it, even to move forward in line.  For me on a hot day, I’ll take ac any day, any time, any place! The last time we were in Nairobi the World Cup was going on.  STARVED for female companionship, I made friends with the night clerk where we stayed.  She was wildly betting on this game or that as the rounds continued and we all waited for the final outcome.  Acknowledging that she was having a bit of a cash flow problem, she vowed she was not going to place any money on the next game.  She said the games were causing her so much anxiety, not only anticipating the next game, but having to stay up late at night just to watch it. Even her co-workers said she was grouchy and mean from lack of sleep.  Of course I know nothing about “football”,  but still was drawn instantly into her drama, loving every minute of discussing last night’s game, who won, why they won and who would play and win the next one.  Arriving here in Nairobi, once again a month ago now, Lillian, jumped up greeted me Kenyan style, a handshake and kiss on both cheeks, and vehemently lamented over Germany’s win of the coveted Cup.  She also very proudly announced she had quit betting for sure…well, at least for another four years! Traveling around Africa, I often wonder how the men and women and even children manage to ALWAYS be wearing very clean clothes and shoes that are shining.  The moment I step out of our room (or even before), I somehow manage to have a smudge of dirt on my shirt, dusty shoes, sandaled feet that are no longer white but have a thick layer of mud or dust covering them, and my hair – really why even go there?  I pass by many beautiful African women with their hair neat and tidy, suits (a blouse and matching long skirt) pressed, looking “smart”, and without an inkling of dirt anywhere.  Their shoes look like they have been walking along any clean sidewalk or street in the West, never betraying the reality of the miles they have walked on dirt, and now muddy streets and paths from their homes to reach town. Every day going back and forth to the Women’s Center, I pass by an elderly gentleman who has a shoeshine/watch repair shop set up alongside the busy street.  Over the years we have become “friends”.  He speaks very little English and has taken on the challenging job of teaching me Kiswahili.  I try and try, but unfortunately, often he ends up lowering his head and shaking it in disgust and frustration.  Back and forth I go day after day and he tries again, perhaps shocked that this white girl can be so slow!  But, at long last, he has finally taught me something,“Sasa!” he shouts to me.  (Slang for “Hi, how are you?”)  He keeps talking in Kiswahili, but if I interrupt him at all, he lays down his tools and slaps his table.  I must patiently wait. The simple answer is, “Fit” (I’m good, feeling good!) Victory at last!  He smiles grateful that his student is finally learning something.  He continues mumbling a few words, probably something about my language skills, to which I flippantly answer, “Sawa, sawa!”  (OK, OK)  He looked up and gazed at me with complete surprise and delight! I couldn’t help but notice a woman walking toward my watch repair friend one day.  She reached into her huge bundle and pulled out a neatly wrapped paper triangle of something and gave it to him. He then handed her a few shillings.  Curious to know what the transaction was all about, of course, I had to ask.  Curtly he answered, “My lunch.”  I guess he mistakenly thought I might want some. He opened it up and sure enough inside was a mix-mash of ugali, maize and beans.  The woman once again hoisted the bundle on her back with the handles strapped securely against her forehead and on down the street she went.  Half-way down the block, she stopped to deliver another one of the tiny triangles.  I raced to catch up to her and asked her many questions, which she was only to eager to answer.  She told me she thought of a business of cooking all morning and delivering lunch to people at their place of work.  Most every weekday she would deliver over 20 such meals to her “regulars”.  Curious to know how she would even think of such a thing, she replied by telling me, “But, I cannot sit at home and accept a life of stress and poverty; I must do something.”  How impressive is that?!  Many of us do just sit and wait for something to come to us.  How inspiring to meet and touch this old Kenyan mamma who would not sit idly back hoping and wishing, but actually did something about her plight.  It wasn’t much, but giving her some shillings, I, too, bought my lunch. Unable to contain my joy at meeting such an inspiring woman, I just had to hug her tight.  She was only shocked for a moment, then shook my hand, kissed both cheeks and went on her way. These are just a few of the friends I’ve met along the way.  There are so, so many more.  The world is indeed filled with the glory of God.  Just stopping to chat with someone (anyone, really), it’s very easy to see.  People are amazing; each with a story, no two stories alike, yet interestingly I am finding, most are very willing for you to be a part of theirs.

— Deja Vu

Acclimating to different locales while traveling can be a bit of a challenge sometimes, especially wherever we’re staying.  First looks, I check out if there’s mosquito netting, then the bathroom facilities.  Except for a few times we’ve always had the much needed netting and well, those of you who have read my musings before, know that toilets, showers, sinks and I have a long, long history…mostly providing me new opportunities for my collection of photos. However, the past week has proved to be such a unique experience.  Traveling back to Nairobi after being “up-country” in Western Kenya for the past four weeks, we had hoped to stay where we have stayed before.  It’s a place we know and have grown accustomed to (the one without toilet seats).  Unfortunately, they were booked, so we frantically began the search for a new one.  Nairobi can be a very scary place to be, so finding somewhere not only somewhat clean and safe, but also affordable can be a huge challenge. But leave it to my awesome husband who discovered a new prospect.  He asked me, “What do you think about staying at a hostel that’s also a convent?  They have rooms there for $50 a night, plus they give you three meals a day.” $50 compared to the $250 for some of the others, I quickly agreed that yes, even though this could be risky, it’s would be so worth it.  One of the main reasons being that it is very close to the upscale, very western internet café we had found that serves decaf coffees. On arrival, I was happy to see the customary fencing and gate manned intently with an armed guard. So far so good.  Checking in, we were taken to a building with a long hall and doors leading into traveler’s rooms to the left and right. Entering our room, the first inspection passed as I looked at each of the single beds (not even hoping or expecting a double); both had mosquito netting hanging securely over them. Now, I must admit, we did pay the extra $5 to have our own bathroom.   Quite interesting!  Here they had placed a large glass case into the room.  It is about the size of a sliding door closet, but it does have all of the essentials:  shower, sink...only cold water...and toilet...the extra $5 ensuring that we didn’t have to wander down the hall to pee and wash our faces alongside other male and female residents.  All of this for $50 per night in Nairobi!!  The one slight glitch, however, was that the Sister checking us in said to be especially careful of leaving anything in our room as it might be stolen.  There is evidence to confirm this, as we could easily see that the door and the little wardrobe door had both been picked and broken into so many times, there were globs of puddy stuffed into the wood around the new lock.....mmmmm, not too comforting, but at least we were forewarned.  Of course, Roger has had his tiny computer glued to him, along with cell phone and, of course, his Kindle! A quip from a fellow comrade describes our place perfectly:
"The hostel itself is, in a word, Spartan. It reminds me of some places I’ve stayed in the former East Germany just after reunification – run-down but clean. The accommodations, run by the Consolata Sisters, will be fine, but I think I’ll be pretty happy to return to my house after a month here. The bath towel is like sandpaper (no fabric softener here), and there is a very small, rudimentary bar of soap. The bathroom itself has a shower that is configured rather oddly. It has a spigot that sticks pretty far out and looks like something a bathtub would have, with hot/cold water faucets and a shower/spigot selector knob. The only problem with the spigot is that it is positioned directly under the showerhead at a height that, shall we say, requires a certain degree of caution.  Breakfast is at 7 am sharp and apparently the sisters do not like anyone to be late.”
However, I’m seriously wondering how much of Africa this sojourner has traveled in.  Towel, soap, water, AND breakfast!!!!! After two nights here and having the opportunity to check out other rooms, we’ve decided to move into a larger room and forego our built-in bath.  Happy to save the $5 each night for the remaining days here, we’ve adapted to our new digs and don’t mind sharing and visiting with others while making the trek down the hall to the shower or toilet.  The hostel compound itself is very quiet, secluded from the noise of the city traffic and very safe.  Even the gentle singing coming from the sanctuary at 6:30 a.m. mass is soothing as it reminds us we better hustle if we are going to get any of the white bread and “bologna” that will be served for breakfast. A bell rings at 7, 1, and 6:45 inviting us to come to the dining room if we are going to get anything to eat.  Sharing our table every meal with two others, we’ve met the most interesting people:  two young men, one from Scotland, the other from China who have just climbed Mt. Kilamanjaro; a former Kenyan, now a U.S. citizen who has been here for five weeks caring for his elderly father; a girl from Burundi who is in Nairobi for business communications; an elderly couple from Ohio who are here for the ninth time to work in the slums; Lucy, a Kenyan nurse who works at a tea plantation up-county who is here in Nairobi for training to work with terminally ill patients who have HIV-AIDS. Outside of the main stone building is a canvass sign advocating:  "Whatever is good must be done well and quietly."  I have been giving this considerable thought!  However, mostly I’ve been thinking about how incredibly strange it feels to be here.  The long hallways, closed doors to the left and right, the secured gate, the omnipresent authority figures (here they are priests and nuns), the rules one must adhere to (spoken and not), the communal bathrooms, small, tiny yellow or green painted bedrooms with two single beds and a cold water sink in the corner with a miniature mirror and shelf above, community meals, and the formidable desk under the one window.  It’s all so strangely comforting and familiar.  Can it be 43 years ago that I said good-bye to the boarding school that had been home for four long years and is over 10,000 miles from this place?  I peeked out my door, half expecting Miss Lit (the Headmistress) or Miss Hodges (Head Dean) to come barreling down the hall peering into each of our rooms to make sure lights are out and each of us is securely in our room and in bed! To my relief neither of their silhouettes appeared.  Sadly, though, neither did the flash of schoolgirl friends Jenny, Maria, BS, Mary Lee or Marshall racing into their rooms quickly before the final blast of the bell for the day or the dreaded opening of our doors and the unsolicited sing-song “Good-night” from one of the matrons.  These ancient voices of doom were only too happy to exert their authority if we happened to be still dressed or lingering at our desks over the mounds of homework each night.  Little did they know what actually happened as they finally closed their own bedroom doors at night! Memories all built into who we are. Isn’t it interesting how one event in life prepares you for the next.  How could I know, living simply, studying hard, and communal living would give me tools, experiences and even comforting familiarity for what my life had held through the years? One experience leads to another leads to another, all held together with common threads.  Each of our life stories unfold, each chapter continuing into the next in the books of our lives.  Fascinating!

— Mimi nataka kukutana na Rachel (I want you to meet Rachel!)

Exciting things are happening at the Women’s Vocational Training Center.  Since Steven and Angel Alembe, Appleseed’s Community Development Directors, have taken on overseeing the project, there are many new logistical steps being put into place.  The biggest being that he brought with him an incredibly wonderful tailor/trainer from his homeland, DR Congo.  Here in Kenya and throughout Africa, Congo is known for it’s beautiful fabrics and talented tailors.  We are so fortunate to have this very gifted gal, Rachel Aina Kitulo, with us for the next six months. First of all, if you can imagine, this young mom of four, traveled all the way from Tubumbashi-Katauga in the eastern part of Congo to the western city of Uvira…only then to continue her long, arduous journey from Congo to Kitale, Kenya with four men, Steven and the three church planters from Burundi!!  Being willing to do that in my book already makes her quite a woman!  I asked her why she would leave her home and children for so long.  Sadly, the sacrifice for this young widow with four children (16, 12, 10, and 8) is huge as she admits how badly she misses them already. But, leaving them with her younger sister for the next six months, she tells me will enable her to have enough money to buy food, housing and school fees without stress for some time. Shyly she announced, “When at last December comes, I will go and stay two weeks with my family.  Then I will come back to the girls at the school.” Rachel’s husband died some years ago, leaving her sole supporter for her family in the war-ravaged nation of DR Congo.  Thankfully, she had already been through three years of school to learn sewing and the theory and practical aspects of tailoring.  She has since supported herself as a seamstress. When Steven contacted her to see if she would be willing to go to Kenya and take on the responsibilities of running a project there for desperate women, she jumped at the chance. At the school, she will receive a guaranteed good salary, plus housing and transport for six months.  To her, it’s worth the sacrifice. For us, she is just what we need to take the school to the next level of where we’d like to see it go.  Rachel will not only be teaching the girls theory, cutting and sewing, but will be managing the business side of the whole project, quite an undertaking!  For her, with her credentials, this is not a problem. She is educated, confident and skilled.  PLUS, she is absolutely precious!  Always smiling, she has already endeared the girls to her heart.  She is a strong, strong woman, exuding deep faith and certainty that it was God’s intention for her to come to Kitale.  One of the students, Elizabeth, whispered to me that she wants so much to learn everything she can from Rachel and be just like her. In gratitude, she made Roger and me some beautiful Congolese clothes.  Can you even imagine?  (….and, aiyaiyai, what to do after all my hard work to be SURE to have my one little suitcase under the 43 pound weight limit!)  But, no need to tell you, most of the American clothes have been given away to make room for the GORGEOUS Congo blouses, skirts and shirts…three of each.  Walking through the streets of Kitale back to our home, carrying these beautiful, folded clothes, people were actually stopping me to ask where they could buy such a thing. This is how coveted the fabrics and designs of Congo are!  Of course, I sent them immediately to our school, hoping that they will have an immediate increase of cash flow, increasing the chances of the project being self-sustaining as soon as possible. So, today not only are the girls being emotionally influenced by Rachel but certainly they are learning the very profitable skills of sewing and running a business that will change their lives forever.  Elizabeth Mudenyo continues to provide direction and leadership for the school. She and Dawson are excited to carry on the mentoring and spiritual aspects of discipling these young women. Also, in addition to the current four students, Rachel will be adding six more in the next few days.  One by one by one, women are being lifted up and given an opportunity.  It doesn’t get any better than this!  So many, many of you have responded to the cries heard all the way from the slums and poverty where these women live.  You are making a difference, a huge one!!  One life changed touches another, touches another, touches another.  All because of you!  Asante sana (thank you so very much)!

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