tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40004734108510111852024-02-07T03:08:37.132-08:00Kellee in KenyaAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389884053200558052noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000473410851011185.post-18447792164910354622013-05-02T22:28:00.001-07:002013-05-02T22:28:53.792-07:00For Martin.<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">Sometimes it hits me so suddenly that it takes my breath away. </span><br />
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It's the way things remind me of you-when I have a sleeping kid in my arms, or when I see a book you love, or when I hear something that sounds like your laugh. </div>
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And the pain comes fast and it comes strong and it lingers. </div>
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There are days when I would fly a million miles just to tuck you into bed and kiss your little cheeks. </div>
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There are times when I wish that I could scream across the world that I love you and miss you and want you in my arms. </div>
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There are nights when I fall asleep with Google Earth on a screen next to my bed, windows open and lights off, imagining that I am a dot on my computer screen, picturing that I am in that place next to you. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389884053200558052noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000473410851011185.post-14827922061640109062013-02-05T10:30:00.000-08:002013-02-05T10:30:10.322-08:00Coming home<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This week is a tough one. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This is the week that I would have been coming home had I stayed in Kenya the amount of time that I originally planned for. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This week I got a call that Martin had been to the hospital because he had a bug bite in his ear and it got infected.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This week Martin asked me on the phone when I am coming back.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This week I got to hear my baby say "love you" from thousands of miles away and I missed him so much that I almost wished he hadn't even said it. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And I couldn't help but think that if I had stayed I would have been there to take him to the doctor. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And if I had stayed he wouldn't have to ask when I'm coming back.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And if I had stayed I could hold him in my arms and hear him say "love you" a thousand times without having it hurt. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So sometimes it's hard and sometimes I don't understand and sometimes I feel like screaming and crying and throwing things because it just hurts that much to be so far from someone I love so much. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But most times, I am thankful that the plan changed. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I am glad that I've been home to go through so many different transitions with my family. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I love getting to help my sister plan her wedding. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I love being a part of decisions about my family's new house.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I love getting to see my family and friends and boyfriend.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I love getting to nanny my three favorite American kiddos. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">There is so much good in the time that I have been home.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But this week is still tough, and it still hurts to be away from my Martin.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">There is good that comes in knowing he is being loved and he is loving and he is growing and laughing and playing, it's just hard to know that I am missing it. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I want to share his sweet voice and sweet laughter with you though. Because there isn't a person in the world who shouldn't get to hear such a wonderful sound. (and sorry you can't see his sweet face, we had no power during the filming of this gigglefest <3 )</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389884053200558052noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000473410851011185.post-37745477170442635962012-12-04T09:23:00.001-08:002012-12-04T09:23:41.943-08:00Giving away love
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Getting to be a “mom” for the past few weeks has been the
greatest and hardest thing in all my life. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have loved getting to love this little one. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have hated knowing that he won’t always be mine.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today we took the kids to see their mom for the first time
since they left her over 2 weeks ago. My heart ached for her fiercely for her
when I realized that in the same way she has trusted me to take care of her
baby, I will soon have to trust someone else to take care of him. What an honor
that she would trust me with something so precious to her heart. I know how
hard is must have been because from this side of the story, I am struggling to
trust on that same level even when I know in my heart that he will be loved and
cared for in such a great way. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you are leaving part of your heart in someone else’s
care, it’s always hard to wave goodbye and trust that it will be well taken
care of. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Times like these I’m thankful that I’ve had 22 years of
having the best mom in the world and she knows my heart better than anyone. I
am so thankful for her and how she reminded me that children are all on
borrowed time from God. He is the one who LETS us love them, for however long
it may be. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And He loves them always always. So when my trust is failing
or when my heart is breaking or when I can barely breathe from the hurt, I have
to remember that HE IS FAITHFUL. And so He reminds me how lucky each person who
gets to love this little one is. And He reminds me to share Martin with the
world. Because bottled up in this little boy is such a great love, and how fair
would it be for me to keep that only to myself? </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have LOVED watching Martin grow and learn. Nothing in the
world is better than the way he smiles at me or the way his giggles sound.
Nothing makes me happier than seeing his eyes brighten when he learns new words
or figures out how to do something on his own. I love teaching him and laughing
with him and tucking him into bed. And I love seeing Jesus in him. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I will miss him with my whole heart. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But my momma was right. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">God gave me the privilege of pouring all of my love into
this sweet baby so that he would be ready to be loved by someone else when the
time comes for me to leave. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It is my hope and my prayer that he remembers the love that
he has. That he doesn’t ever go a day without knowing how much God loves him
and how much I love him. The he finds the affection he needs in his new
temporary home and that he never feels abandoned or uncared for. It is my hope
and prayer that I will see him again soon and that I will know how much love he
has received in my absence. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am praising God that I get to love Martin; I am praising Him
that so many others will soon get to love him too. </span></div>
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<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389884053200558052noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000473410851011185.post-15696188738651373982012-11-21T05:40:00.003-08:002012-11-21T05:45:10.870-08:00Temporary placement, permanent love<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Can I introduce you to the newest piece of my heart?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Last Saturday I was able to go with Annie and Phoebe to
visit a family that we had heard about who had some babies that might need
help. Since Annie is currently running the P82 baby home in Nairobi, as soon as
we heard about the babies we thought that they might be able to find a good
home in Neema House. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My heart would have never been ready for the kids that we
were about to meet. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You always hope for the best, you talk to God and you tell
Him that you want to help only as much as you are needed, that if the kids can
stay with the mom, that’s the best thing. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When we met the two sweet 17 month twins and sweet 4-5ish
year old Martin, we knew that they needed a good bit of help to get back to a
healthy condition. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">By the grace of God they have a mom who really did want to
help her kids, even if she herself didn’t quite know how. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She gave us permission to take her kids to the hospital and
to keep them for some time while they are getting healthy. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The babies traveled back to Nairobi with Annie and I have
the awesome privilege of taking care of sweet Martin for the time being.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And gosh, what a privilege it is!! </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I want to say that I’ve always believed in miracles. That
I’ve always known how awesome God is and how big His works are. But this week
has wrecked everything I have ever thought. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’ve realized that I have always put a limit on the miracles
that I believe, and it took this little boy to show me that my God will always
always be bigger and greater and more faithful and powerful than I could ever
ever hope to even imagine. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On Sunday I had a little boy who I thought didn’t even know
how to smile. He was quiet and looked incredibly sad. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I would never believe that the sweet babe sleeping next to
me right now was the same kid if I hadn’t witnessed the transformation every
second of every day. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">His body is small and fragile but his heart is huge and he
has the most contagious giggle I have ever heard. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He is curious and funny and loving and such a trooper. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He loves eating and hates his medicine. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He has a rattle that he carries around everywhere and he
LOVES little books. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He always manages to scoot right next to me when we are
sleeping and loves to cuddle. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He loves playing peek-a-boo and will find anything that you
hide from him. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He is scared of loud metal noises and going outside in the
dark. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">His laughter could be the soundtrack of my life all day
every day and it would still never be long enough. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is why God is good-because I get to love this little
one now, with all that I have. And because I get to love him forever after,
even when he is no longer with me. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We’re called to love. I’m lucky because loving right now
means seeing the biggest miracle of my life. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One day he will be big enough and strong enough to not need
me. But isn’t that what parents always hope for their kids, even if it means
that they leave you? And even though he isn’t mine, it’s what I want for him
with my whole heart. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My favorite scripture since I’ve been in Kenya has been Acts
17: 26-28. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“From one man he made every nation, that they should inhabit the
whole earth; and he determined the times set for them and the exact places
where they should live. God did this so that men would seek him and perhaps
reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from each of us. ‘For in
him we live and move and have our being.’” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The other night I came to put Martin to sleep and laid down
next to him and he immediately snuggled up onto my chest and fell asleep. And
God said “THIS IS WHY YOU ARE HERE.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I didn’t move for an hour. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He has a plan, a GREAT plan. And He knows where we need to
be and when. And when we do what scripture says, when we reach out and seek Him
and when we live and move and have our being with Him, we get to be a part of
the works that He sets before us. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I love getting to love Martin. And I will love getting to love him for as long or as little as I am called to. I will love him until it hurts and then I will keep on loving him more. And even if my place in his life is fleeting, my love for him is endless.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb26zFKN__QoDVm3ytwe3OZag2UW96lrCl6i41SuoXhVGpnRXWIh_HNNknv5cObgRK4yjzsTsL7tPOLlgPrJqNcpaXJ-xkLcQhXu2LJgbWfH8moaQxRefrhKMj9yQP32sT7JG84F7Ex20/s1600/2012-11-21+09.48.56.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb26zFKN__QoDVm3ytwe3OZag2UW96lrCl6i41SuoXhVGpnRXWIh_HNNknv5cObgRK4yjzsTsL7tPOLlgPrJqNcpaXJ-xkLcQhXu2LJgbWfH8moaQxRefrhKMj9yQP32sT7JG84F7Ex20/s1600/2012-11-21+09.48.56.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“I have found the paradox that if I love until it hurts,
then there is no hurt, but only more love.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">-Mother Theresa</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389884053200558052noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000473410851011185.post-61593302163208235792012-11-16T03:58:00.001-08:002012-11-16T03:58:44.041-08:00Home
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<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">There are moments of my life where it is so easy to remember
how Kenya is as much of a home to me as Georgia. Times when my heart is so
happy and content here where I remember why I fell in love with this place five
years ago and why I will always want to come back to it. I want to share some
of these moments with you. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Kenya is home: </span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;">
</div>
<ul>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span>When I am curled up on the couch reading a book
and drinking tea and enjoying the constant soundtrack of animals and kids</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span>When I run to the supermarket and the kids on my
road only wave to me in recognition instead of screaming at me in fascination</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span>When I have a day that I plan all my own, where
I make the arrangements and decisions and have all the freedom in the world to
do what I want</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span>When I go to a restaurant to pick up lunch and
already know how much it will cost me because I’ve been there enough times to
have the menu memorized</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span>When I go to the bank and the security guard
always insists on putting his card in the ATM before me just to make sure it
isn’t in a mood to eat cards</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span>When I am on the way somewhere and pass by
friends on the street who know my name</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span>When I can turn my music up and sing along to
American songs while I make dinner (even if it means strange looks from my
Kenyan family)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></li>
</ul>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So many pieces of my heart are here- in the people, in the
culture, even in the language. And I love the times when I am perfectly
comfortable being at home here. I love when I can be still and rest and not
feel like just because I am in Kenya I have to be doing something productive
every second of every day. (Even though I also love times when I am busy busy
and full of places to go and people to see)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I don’t know that I will ever get tired of having more than
one home.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389884053200558052noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000473410851011185.post-14009173618059847972012-11-03T09:36:00.004-07:002012-11-03T09:36:58.468-07:00Loves of my life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sometimes God has to nudge me and remind me of how
miraculous and faithful He is. Sometimes I forget to be in awe of Him and
sometimes I forget the how good His promise is and sometimes I fail to see all
of the wonders of His works.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Many of you will remember Paul, Willy and Issac- the three
boys that we had the pleasure of meeting when I was here in December. When we
met these three, the life that they knew was cold and empty and really hard.
(To read what I wrote about them then, visit here: http://thebeautyofwords.tumblr.com/post/14841576195/hope )</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Since the second my feet touched Kenyan soil, I have been
itching to get to these boys. I wanted to see them and play with them and hug
them and dance with them. God knew that I needed to see my sweet boys, and this
past weekend I was able to travel with my awesome friend Gordon to Nyahururu to
visit with them for a while. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Saturday night goes down in the books as one of the best
nights I will ever have in Kenya. Even before Gordon and I walked through the
gate, we could hear music coming from the yard. When we walked in all of the
boys were singing and laughing and helping prepare supper. At first, I think
they didn’t remember me well enough to show all their personality, but by the
end of the night we were all laughing to tears and dancing for hours. Joy was
literally in every single inch of the room and nothing could have taken the
smile off my face that night. (I even watched a rabbit get slaughtered and
skinned and kept my smile!)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What a transformation for those three boys, and what a joy
to get to witness it! I love them with such a huge chunk of my heart and I am
so thankful that God uses them to remind me every day of how prodigal we each
are and how much can change when we come home to Him. </span></div>
<!--EndFragment--><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389884053200558052noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000473410851011185.post-40337931111616136592012-10-30T10:10:00.002-07:002012-10-30T10:13:02.216-07:00Kenyan Recess<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Recess in Kenya is something that baffles me.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Picture this: the kids run
out of the classroom like they haven’t seen daylight in weeks and roll around
on the grass like there is no better playground in the entire world. They climb
trees and play games that involve 15 kid pile ups and jump around on old tires and they laugh and laugh and
laugh. Sometimes they form circles and dance around and sometimes they push and
shove and fight with each other like they are in boxing rings. And it’s all
100% acceptable play.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Can I tell you about a game that they play? Maybe it will blow your mind the way it blew mine. All of the kids line up in this long line and then three walk behind them. The three takes turns with different jobs-one will cover the person's eyes, one will pinch their neck, and one will slap them on the back. And the the child who has their back turned must guess who it was that pinched them and who it was that hit them. And that is a GAME. Please picture my face the first time that I saw this being played. (I can guarantee you that the only way to describe it would be SHOCK.) </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If I ever were to forget how different life is here, if I were to ever fail to see the differences between teaching here and teaching in the US, recess with always be a reminder. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<!--EndFragment--><br />
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389884053200558052noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000473410851011185.post-22327633924688097102012-10-28T08:53:00.000-07:002012-10-28T08:53:59.767-07:00Another Piece of my Heart<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkPHQ1UyI_AX_3n5zLmTVMtIg0yGi79nIcByDYTTkGAxurIC9KPL4Nc4SQznkYl5EtdSrecfbTfVDaj2wVnC8CT2KjHfIchngArEWkz3AkWAda7wp-bi1EFahClXRdAzs4lsAudgRLhKE/s1600/2012-10-24+10.45.49.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkPHQ1UyI_AX_3n5zLmTVMtIg0yGi79nIcByDYTTkGAxurIC9KPL4Nc4SQznkYl5EtdSrecfbTfVDaj2wVnC8CT2KjHfIchngArEWkz3AkWAda7wp-bi1EFahClXRdAzs4lsAudgRLhKE/s320/2012-10-24+10.45.49.jpg" width="240" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Every morning she runs into my arms as I step through the
gate of the preschool. This has become routine for us. My heart lights up to
see her beautiful face and as she wraps her arms around my neck and tucks her
tiny face close next to mine, nothing has ever felt more like home. She is
small, but her smile could light up an entire room. She loves to knock her
forehead right against mine and stare into my eyes, always knowing that it will
fill me with laughter. Her sweet face masks a story that you would never know. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She comes from a home where sickness has won too often. Her
father is passed and her mom HIV+. The kindness of a neighbor has allowed her
to come to school. She wears old handed down uniforms and her chance of a
continuing education is not promised beyond two years of free preschool. And
still, she smiles and laughs and plays and loves like the world has dealt her a
better hand. She is the definition of joy and even the sun seeks to light up
her face. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This week, my little
Edith has been more of a teacher to me than I have been to her. She has taught
me that a smile is not dependant on circumstances, but on faith. She sings of
the Lord and how she will praise His name, and while I know that she might not
grasp the entirety of what that means, she chooses to sing with a smile instead
of to sit in sadness. Her face reminds me every morning of the promise of joy and
love and peace that we can get only from God. Her smile is contagious to such
an extreme degree and already she has captured my heart completely. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My heart has been broken this week as I’ve learned how many
kids are like my Edith. How many come to this school until they are too old to stay,
only to find that this is the only education they might ever get. So many little ones will
leave this school at 7 or 8 and not sit for interviews to go to new schools
because the fees are too high for their parents to afford. My heart breaks to
know that these children will have only a preschool education to fall back on.
As a teacher, my heart breaks to know that there are so many who never stand a
chance at going to school because the cost is too high. As a believer in a Lord
who loves and seeks every child, my heart breaks to know that there are so many
who will fall away from faith as they fall away from school. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My heart is heavy and light at the same time, and it’s hard
to find the balance. My prayer is for each of these whom I love to have a
chance. My prayer is for parents who faithfully step out and take chances on
these kids who are the future generations of this country. I will hug them
until my arms turn blue and laugh with them until my voice is hoarse and love
them with all the love that the Lord gives me, and I will never ever stop
hoping for a better future for each of these who hold a piece of my heart.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389884053200558052noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000473410851011185.post-39083197172212172242012-10-26T09:26:00.002-07:002012-10-26T11:47:24.013-07:00Transitions<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Walking in through the small door in the wooden gate, I am
immediately overwhelmed by the joy of the Lord that I can see on dozens of
adorable faces. They knew that I would be there, but still so many stare at me
in awe as they take in the sight of their new teacher. One girl runs up and
immediately leaps into my arms. Still others run to me as they pull on my arms
and ask “How are you?” a million times, even after I’ve answered. (This is a
sentence that I hear at least 75 times a day because it is a staple English
sentence for all Kenyan kids) Still, others stand back, more apprehensive of me
because I look and sound different than they do. I take in every face that I
will be seeing for the days of the upcoming months and relish in knowing that
these precious little ones will be such a part of my heart. Finally, I am
stepping into the role that I heard God speak into my heart so long ago. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This week I have become the teacher of a Kenyan preschool
class. I have laughed and cried and gotten frustrated and been encouraged and
felt every single emotion you can imagine. Coming into this I thought I would
be hanging out, helping Rose in the class and observing for a bit until I learn
more Swahili--I could not have been more wrong. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In reality I have spent the majority of my time this week as
the sole teacher in a classroom of 32 rambunctious Kenyan kids who speak very little
English. They stare at me as I try to communicate with my small Swahili
vocabulary and they laugh at me when I try to show them that I mean serious
business. On Wednesday I was alone in the classroom for four hours and left the
school thinking that I didn’t know if I could go back. Because it was HARD.
Sure, recess is fun and during break time they sit in my lap and chase me
around and hang on my arms so much that I am sure I will leave here with no arm
hair, but when I walk into the classroom and become their teacher, the word
respect holds no meaning. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They would get loud and run around and me saying the words
“SIT DOWN” and “PLEASE BE QUIET” would have zero impact (even when I tried
these phrases in Swahili, the kids would laugh). All of the student teaching in
the world could not have prepared me for this. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And then I remembered that I was here because God called me
to be. And I realized that I’d been relying on my educational training and not
my spiritual training. And so I said a prayer for patience, took a deep
breathe, decided not to give up, and kept trying new approaches, hoping one
would work out.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This morning most of the students were in the classroom when
I arrived at the school. They were all talking and playing and running around
and I thought “Oh yeah, it’s Friday, kids are always out of control on
Fridays.” So I lowered my expectations and stepped into the classroom. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Everyone sat down, everyone
got silent, and 32 pairs of little eyes stared at me expectantly. I could have
cried in that moment. But instead I smiled and thanked Jesus for His
faithfulness and looked at my beautiful class and greeted them good morning and
accepted all their hugs as I made my way to the front of the classroom and
braced myself for another day of life in preschool land. </span><!--EndFragment-->
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpgU0Ybib3Lqpzcf4DmdTTH3PeRPLt-kSTRfb7SHJs3ozjSX-eZ8_9fxcn8GJv6aiv9NaYfsV_sFMXToLbxygyNkWas6s0cVlDbDxdrX9MeDtVmNih__6gdCbmDdIQ-9TiCIOCNQu15KQ/s1600/2012-10-23+10.02.37.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpgU0Ybib3Lqpzcf4DmdTTH3PeRPLt-kSTRfb7SHJs3ozjSX-eZ8_9fxcn8GJv6aiv9NaYfsV_sFMXToLbxygyNkWas6s0cVlDbDxdrX9MeDtVmNih__6gdCbmDdIQ-9TiCIOCNQu15KQ/s200/2012-10-23+10.02.37.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOnxj0Y6IJsOVxb3gF0FlLI53fD4tPSlUp5ZgZd7Be_uPbsj3RiBpVZJoyrHf2ghwDaUVjYhOhLxuBnludb3KRCei3UgzS5J0pwgP27KQA905zVdxpY2dOvGBHoKVacoutNlTVxVR9quA/s1600/2012-10-23+09.55.28.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOnxj0Y6IJsOVxb3gF0FlLI53fD4tPSlUp5ZgZd7Be_uPbsj3RiBpVZJoyrHf2ghwDaUVjYhOhLxuBnludb3KRCei3UgzS5J0pwgP27KQA905zVdxpY2dOvGBHoKVacoutNlTVxVR9quA/s200/2012-10-23+09.55.28.jpg" width="150" /></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBNknxUOmRGehmoF1-M9kXviXMn8LLnzZ9D-Bv8tLZ-wlYUtIZKNaYyZ0GanYVRwiMva4hFICVeZdkW4boW675gZn7MOhac_0MoRPVvDwQ2xOhf38rOsdI4CX7M_wYvrqGQYNrLO4X9iM/s1600/1351107043837.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBNknxUOmRGehmoF1-M9kXviXMn8LLnzZ9D-Bv8tLZ-wlYUtIZKNaYyZ0GanYVRwiMva4hFICVeZdkW4boW675gZn7MOhac_0MoRPVvDwQ2xOhf38rOsdI4CX7M_wYvrqGQYNrLO4X9iM/s320/1351107043837.jpg" width="258" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzvikGgUfD6m_M6zIm4tKlD439wxc1LxosmumSFu9j8Of3Nstb_rEZRp1vlcr__6VAZr0QsP5qkUtWxlQik_b0Tz9yDqNo1uljydbWeNDbquTYrCTFFP73ScWzwNoBH2CgooqfgXYKI9g/s1600/2012-10-24+10.53.32.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzvikGgUfD6m_M6zIm4tKlD439wxc1LxosmumSFu9j8Of3Nstb_rEZRp1vlcr__6VAZr0QsP5qkUtWxlQik_b0Tz9yDqNo1uljydbWeNDbquTYrCTFFP73ScWzwNoBH2CgooqfgXYKI9g/s200/2012-10-24+10.53.32.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi63ANbp7TujM5S4GKbslTL9hsyPBHbBkVT-OYqUceSXz0HNLA0g5Ss0jPp9ZnuRwaX6sM5kolCx4BcAPTHToQpbyRW4D7pgD7BAzzeJp9Equ8i8hAtBiFd339ukm8jAxh3hLvpvDCeP0M/s1600/2012-10-24+14.14.12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi63ANbp7TujM5S4GKbslTL9hsyPBHbBkVT-OYqUceSXz0HNLA0g5Ss0jPp9ZnuRwaX6sM5kolCx4BcAPTHToQpbyRW4D7pgD7BAzzeJp9Equ8i8hAtBiFd339ukm8jAxh3hLvpvDCeP0M/s200/2012-10-24+14.14.12.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389884053200558052noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000473410851011185.post-75712642317860486742012-10-21T07:59:00.000-07:002012-10-21T07:59:01.146-07:00Kenya: Week One (almost)<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm feeling as if I can say I've been in Kenya for a week, because in reality it feels as if I have been in Kenya for a month! Time moves so differently here and I think I had forgotten that an American minute is a Kenyan hour (or day sometimes). </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's been so fun being back in Kenya and remembering all the reasons why I'm in love with this place and the people here. Even now it is raining outside and there is nothing the world that sounds the same as Kenyan rain (i.e. rain accompanied by an occasional mooing cow or squawking chicken, ect.). I've loved getting to reunite with so many pieces of my heart, but i will admit that I've been missing the pieces that stayed at home in Georgia. I think the miss has been bigger this trip because I know that it will be longer before I will be home again. Still, I am so happy to be here and I am excited for what God has planned for me!!</span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tomorrow will be my first day at the preschool and I truly can't wait to meet all my new little ones!!! I'm terrified of not knowing enough Swahili to have long conversations with them, but I know that I'll learn from them even as they learn English from me! I can't wait to get to write all about them later!! :) </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389884053200558052noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4000473410851011185.post-60212852800495736092012-10-15T16:16:00.004-07:002012-10-15T16:16:47.964-07:00Kenya bound!!!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Tomorrow I leave for four months of KENYA! I can't believe that the day is already here- I have been dreaming about this for YEARS. There are so many sweet faces that I can't wait to see again and I am so excited for the time that God has prepared for me. So many of you who will read this have heard so much of my journey with Kenya and I am so thankful for such an outpouring of love and support throughout the planning and molding of this trip. I can't wait to be back in Kenya where so many pieces of my heart are!! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">(Now I just have to finish getting packed up!) </span><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09389884053200558052noreply@blogger.com0