First Day

Ok, here's the real story of our first day in Kenya!  After our four different flights from LA and I eventually just lost count of how many hours of traveling, we finally dropped into bed around 1 a.m. Mombasa time.  We were both so exhausted we didn't even care that the mattress was so thin and hard, we could have been sleeping on the floor and the "air con" was more like a fat old man occasionally blowing hot air over us.  At that point, we were just glad to be able to lie down, and for me, I was thrilled to finally take off what I had thought two days earlier was such a hot (as in stylin'), new sweatsuit and take a hot shower.  The only thing that spoiled getting into bed, was my beloved's reminder that we had scheduled an appointment for first thing in the morning with a YWAM couple, before moving on to Diani. No need to be telling you who set this appointment! But in all fairness, I have to admit, sitting in Nipomo a few months earlier, it did sound like a good idea. So, sure enough, the alarm went off far too soon and up we got to the crazy, busy sounds of Kenya's second largest city, Mombasa.  We raced downstairs to grab our included breakfast, always served in an outside veranda-type dining area, and this time on the front "porch" of the hotel, facing the street...with the typical Kenyan breakfast:  Wheeta mix (a cereal bar that you eat with milk), various fruits, sometimes eggs, sausage (don't ask), sometimes toast, coffee or tea.  One would wonder why anyone would want something hot to drink, as at 8:30 in the morning it was already around 85 degrees! After cramming my once beautiful new sweats back into the suitcase, we dragged all of our luggage back downstairs to meet the YWAMers where we had eaten our breakfast. They were waiting for us and warmly (seriously, no pun intended) greeted us with a "Welcome to the oven!", of course, referring to the temperature here!  It was really startling to meet them, although it really shouldn't have been, because after all, they are YWAM, but they are from two different ethnic groups and even met in an entirely different part of the world, and here they are working in Africa!  I need to be careful about how how much I write about them because of the sensitive work they are doing among unreached Muslim people groups here, but wanted to give you a glimpse into their fascinating life! As different as they are, here they are married and working in Kenya in an extremely harsh climate, and I can't even begin to mention (or imagine) the many other challenges of living and working in such isolated conditions for the past 14 years! Just for one example, the husband alone has had malaria 12 times! They told us a lot about their work in different regions up and down the coast of Kenya and the various projects they are starting...all very exciting and amazing!  But, to be perfectly honest, however interesting and inspiring they were as individuals and most certainly as missionaries, as the hours wore on and Roger and the husband and the wife exchanged thoughts, ideas, and concepts about church planting, I kept thinking, "mmmm, and just what is my part in all of this?  What do I have to offer to this couple?"  I must admit that my thoughts were straying from either complete fascination at what they were saying, total insecurity because of my little, tiny insignificant life, or just plain boredom and wishing the whole thing would just be over! But then it happened...the 15 minutes that God wanted to do something through me!  Roger and the husband left the table for a few minutes and it happened!  I asked the wife (the type A of the couple) what she would want if she actually did have "member care" (YWAM's term for pastoral care for their missionaries). "I don't know...I guess, it would be like friendship, someone to pray with."  I told her about a gal I meet with once a week.  I told her how emotional I am as a woman and that sometimes I have a lot of words to say and that my words overwhelm Roger and it's better for me to "dump" some of my words with a friend first before saying them to him.  Sometimes after I "complain" to a friend about whatever is annoying me about Roger (can you even imagine??) or something else and we pray about it and hear from God, my perspective changes; then, I find that I don't have to talk to him about it any more, or if I do, it's not with the same emotion as I might have before. I used as an example when we were planning to go to D.R. Congo.  I told her how I was very afraid to go there and instead of going to Roger with all of my fears at first, I went to a friend.  We prayed about my fear; we prayed about our trip.  After prayer and feeling that we both had heard from God, I was able to go to Roger, not with fear, but with complete confidence that I felt that we were not to go to the Congo.  The difference being that Roger was able to listen to me.  I approached him not as an emotional woman, driven by fear, but as a woman of faith who felt that she had heard from God His will for their next trip. Very quietly this courageous, confident woman that I had been listening to, who is sacrificing on every level I can think of and is doing things for God that I can only imagine of doing, said to me, "I can see that I do things on my own.  I do not ask God.  It is causing me many problems in my marriage."  And, with that our husbands returned to the table.  It was only 15 minutes, but I believe what God wanted me to deposit in Mombasa, Kenya that day, He did.