Tag Archives: travel

The House in The Desert

Yesterday, we looked at Psalm 27 and talked about David’s pause, mid-thought, of a place where there are no worries, fears or sadness.  Guess I’m still in that moment today.  Life is good.  Life is hard.  I can count 100 blessings, but it’s the struggles that drain me.  We muddle through moments of angst, and do what we have to do, but I also relate to David in letting my mind wander to a place where it’s just God and me.

Only there can I shed my coat, like a weary traveler, set my bags down and exhale.  Only there can I take off all of the hats I wear every day and wipe the sweat from my brow.  Only there can I slump into a chair and rest my head on the table, knowing God will meet me at the table with a glass of cold water and a warm smile.  Only there can I sit in utter silence with no worries of filling in conversation.  Only there the dirt my shoes tracked in doesn’t matter, and the familiar smells of home infuse my thinking.  I’m only His child there.  Not wife, mother, friend or worker. I am His child and sit in His house.  It’s safe.  Quiet.  Peaceful.

Everything I need is there.  Moreover, who I am there is enough.  I’m not responsible for anyone else’s happiness there; I’m not a problem-solver; I’m not a worker bee.  I’m just me, and evidently God is okay with that because He hasn’t asked me to be anyone else, nor has He made me feel inadequate for my shortcomings.

In His house, I find my special room.  It’s simple.  A bed, a nightstand and soft linens.  A window for light and a door for privacy.  There, I crawl under the covers and rest my head on the pillow.  I close my eyes knowing He watches out for me.  I sleep while He spreads His wings over me and shelters me with the mere palm of His hand.  There is nowhere else on earth I can go to rest like in God’s house.   He intercepts all that calls for my attention.  I am untouchable and unreachable.

God travels with us in our lives.  Therefore, His house is never far away.  I can find it at the beach, in my own house, in the city, the country, on the Mara, on the subway, under an old tree and on the river.  I can also find it in the desert.

People often associate the desert as a harsh, barren, cursed plot of ground.  It offers neither shelter nor basic needs easily and seems to delight in making accommodations as unpleasant as possible.

Spiritually, people associate the desert with dry times in their life.  Whether it’s not hearing God, not feeling the Christian life or feeling alone, the desert is what our mind’s eye goes to, to describe what we feel.

I think there is yet another way to look at the desert, and David does, too.

He is all over the map in Psalm 55.  He begs God to hear and answer his prayer (v1).  His thoughts trouble him (v2), the enemy and wicked taunt him (v3).  His heart is in anguish (v4). Fear and trembling overwhelm him (v5).  Then verses 6-8 appear. Like a break in a storm, where the rain and wind stop and the sun shines – even if briefly –

I said, “Oh, that I had the wings of a dove!
I would fly away and be at rest—
7 I would flee far away
and stay in the desert;

(Selah)
8 I would hurry to my place of shelter,
far from the tempest and storm. ”

What a beautiful metaphor!  In the desert, where is the storm and tempest?  In the desert, we can be alone.  Therefore, we can rest.  Our place of shelter is God’s house, right in the middle of nothing.  When we are walking in our desert and view endless miles of nothingness, it is very easy to spot God’s house.  It sticks out against the monochromatic backdrop of sand and sun.

His house is harder to find in lush jungles, crowded cities or bustling suburbs – whether these are tangible obstacles we face or intangible only in our hearts and minds.

Perhaps the desert is just the landscape we need to find God’s house.  It is not a mirage, rather it is a promise to His children.

 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”  Matthew 11:28

Are you a weary traveler?  Do you need rest?  Look for God’s house.  It’s never farther than a prayer away.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. 2 In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. 3 And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. 4 You know the way to the place where I am going.” John 14:1-4


Sunday Selah

One thing I ask of the Lord,
    this is what I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord
    all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord
    and to seek him in his temple.

Psalm 27:4

In Psalm 27, David reminds himself of God’s strongarm against his enemies.  He reiterates God’s mercy, goodness and safety.  Yet, in the middle of wrestling with fear, weakness and unstable circumstances, David breaks away in his heart and seems to pause mid-thought.

He is in crisis.  He feels unsafe of where he is and unsure of what the future holds in the hands of his enemies.  However, I can almost see David stop his heart’s plea and set his gaze on the horizon.  Although his feet stand on a place of longitutde and latitude, his heart escapes to another place and time.  There it is peaceful, quiet and restful.  Indeed, God’s house is a respite, a place of refuge.

Until God calls His chidlren home, we are called to seek Him now – every day.  Where do you find rest in God?

One place I find Him is at the beach.  I am reminded of His greatness of strength, creativity and control.  The rythmic waves crashing on the shore slow my own racing heart, and I come to a place of surrender.

I’m not at the beach today, but I can still find my way to God’s house – in my heart.  His children are His temple, and He dwells in us.  When I surrender myself to Him, I find rest, peace and stillness not found anywhere on this earth.

I encourage you, also, to look and listen for God today whever you are.

The LORD gives strength to his people; the LORD blesses his people with peace. ~ Psalm 29:11

Lord willing, I’ll see you tomorrow back here for more real…deep…stuff.

Have a wonderful Sabbath,

Kristi

Living the Dream

There is an image I cannot erase from my mind.  Travel with me for a moment to Kenya.  At the end of the safari, my family rode in a gutted JEEP back toward civilization.  Our driver, an authentic Masai warrior, barrels over rough terrain, nearly missing zebras, antelope  and wildebeest.  The JEEP throws us around, like an amusement park simulator ride on massive steroids!

(Our wild drive across the Mara.  The dark dots are all kinds of wild animals traveling together)

I look behind me, and the rest of our crew is closing in on us in their JEEPs with their drivers.  It looked like a scene from Indiana Jones with 6 stripped down, dirty JEEPS blazing across the Mara leaving thick dust trails behind them.  Like stunt drivers performing a rehearsed routine, our Masai drivers were in a race to get their JEEP back to the main road first.  This was our amazing adventure for at least 2 hours.  It was the most freeing ride I’ve ever taken.  Wide open plains dotted with wild animals.  Full throttle.  Full sun.  Then…the most unexpected thing EVER happened.

(A sample of the open plain we traversed)

Music!  Music began to play.  Not just any music.  Our Masai warrior hits a switch, and amidst the loud, rushing wind and hair slapping me in the face, Justin Bieber’s song, “Baby” began to play.  What?  Our entire family busted out laughing and asked how in the WORLD did this warrior, who kills lions with his bare hands, get a hold of this music?  I commented that Bieber would probably never imagine his music being the backdrop for a crazy thrill ride across the Mara in Africa.

Our driver, donning his personal machete and gorgeous, exquisite Masai garb, told us that previous travelers turned him on to it.  After “Baby” was done, Jamaican island music rang out over the whistling wind.  Wrong landscape, but surely more fitting than American pop music. Again, a gift from previous travelers.  Bruce asked him how he was playing music in this old, gutted JEEP.  He explained that he had made a homemade iPod of sorts and hardwired it to the vehicle.  We were impressed with his ingenuity!

But, I digress.

As we embraced the rocky, grassy, unmarked plains of the Masai territory working our way back to Kipsigis country, in the far distance we saw the most unbelievable sight!  Every time I think about it I get chills.

Far off on the horizon, we saw a dark figure moving very fast.  Squinting my eyes, straining to see, I caught the glimpse of  a man.  Running.  Foot travel is the mode of transportation for most people in Kenya, but there wasn’t anything typical about this man.  He was wearing athletic shorts, a crisp, white tank top, white knee socks and running sneakers.  None of which had we seen anywhere in our time in Kenya.  Where had he come from, and where was he going?

We all gasped at the same time and said, Surely he is in training!  For the Olympics, perhaps?  We asked our Masai driver and he concurred.  He didn’t know the man, but said Olympic hopefuls do, in fact, train in this terrain.  Our jaws fell agape as we watched, mesmerized, at this mystery man’s grace and speed.  This man was the fastest runner I’ve ever personally seen with my own eyes.  And poise!  His long legs stretched out before and behind him, back straight, arms taut – he didn’t even seem real.

No one has bright, white clothes in the Mara.  They wear native attire.  No one has shoes and socks so brilliantly crisp we could easily spot them from a distance. They are barefoot.  Oh yes, he was training indeed.

And, think about where he was running!  Most runners I see run in the city, suburbs or on greenway trails.  This man was completely alone, running in the land of hungry lions, temperamental Cape buffalo, sly jaguars, wicked- fast cheetahs, territorial hippos, elusive rhinos, venomous snakes and audacious hyenas.  As much as that thought would make ME run like the wind (for my life!), I still could not have done what he did.  He had a goal and was training for a dream.

Did he realize he was living his dream?  How about us?  Are we?  Do we?

For this man, he was already living his dream.  At some point, he stopped his normal day’s work, put on his training outfit (perhaps sponsored by someone?), and took his first step.  That step led to more, quicker steps, and those led to miles and miles of lightening fast, all-out running – racing the wind and daring the company of wild beasts.

I have never seen anything so inspirational of the human spirit.  I’ve watched Dateline and 60 Minutes who produce shows based on the one in a million who beat all odds to compete in sports, music and fine arts.  But, those shows have an ending.  There is closure when the man or woman, child or adult proves they have accomplished their goals.  I never have I witnessed the dream in play.

This man’s race has not yet happened.  Does that make him less of a runner?  Or, does working hard every day – rain or shine, sick or healthy – running the Mara make him a runner?

The answer is obvious.  He is, in fact, a race runner right now.

For those of us who most likely will never train in the Mara, what are the dreams that stir our heart?  They are just as important as this man’s, but do we give them the same credit?

Or, do we choose to let the mundane monotony of life be our excuse for not suiting up (be it arming ourselves with a paintbrush, a pen, a camera, a tool, a musical instrument, or our voices) and accept our place on the sidelines?

God gives us dreams.  Dreams spur on hope, give us reason to fight against hardships and ignite purpose on our lives.  Once we have given those dreams to God, asking permission to pursue them in His timing and for His glory, what holds us back?

I think the biggest thing that holds us back is – us.  We feel our limitations.  We listen to the doubt inside us that reminds us of our inadequacies and past failures.  We measure ourselves against the world and believe that we have nothing to offer.  Surely we are not as good as the next man or woman or child.

This happened to me just recently.  I was trapped in a conversation with someone who made me feel really bad about myself.  The topic was photography.  I will spare you the long story, but suffice it to say I told him, in an effort to end the conversation and diffuse his temper, that I was not a real photographer.  When I said those words, a part of me died.  I totally sold myself out because of a man I barely knew.  I went home and sobbed to my husband that my entire history of photography, that began when I was 10 years old when, for my birthday, my great-grandmother put a 110 instamatic in my hands and instantly I found my voice to the world, was gone.  All of my work, albeit unpaid, was suddenly worthless.  Because I don’t have credentials behind my name, or awards on my bookshelves, or a paycheck to prove it – I sold my dream for the price of exiting a conversation.

I felt numb for a few days.  Perhaps, deep down, this is indeed how I felt about myself, and it took verbally cornering me to bring it out?  Or, perhaps, I reduced myself to the world’s standards and realized I didn’t measure up.  Or, perhaps still, I caved under the pressure and said something I didn’t really believe.

For me, I know it was the third choice. In the days following, God had to show me, in His own unique way, the truth of who I am.  He proverbially picked me up, brushed off my knees and wiped the tears from my eyes.  He showed me who I am in Him, and that person is someone who believes in her dreams and wants to enjoy every part of the journey, whether anyone else believes in me or not.

Ironically, not by coincidence, God recently put me in not one, but two situations where my being a photographer was validated by two separate people – on their own initiative, not mine.  I don’t even know these people.  God caused our paths to cross, and I believe it was to reinforce exactly what I felt about the race runner I saw in the Mara.  Because, what I felt about that man was that although he had not yet won the public affirmation for which he was training, he was absolutely a true runner in my opinion.  No doubt.

The same takeaway is for us.  Perhaps more than a single race to prove who wins; it is ignoring what others say about us; it is the numerous days, months and years of practice; it is the countless miles we run in our own way that validate our dreams.

I once ran a 5K cold.  My daughter was entered in the race, but when we got there, we were surprised to see hundreds of runners and hundreds of their family members and friends.  My daughter didn’t have a cell phone and wasn’t familiar with the trail.  All of her fellow group runners had already begun.  She was alone.  There was no way I was going to let my daughter disappear into a crowd of a sea of people and weave her way through 3+ miles of unfamiliar roads.  Spontaneously, I signed myself up, pinned a number to my shirt and off we went.  We ran the whole thing, but unlike her, I had not trained for it.  Did that race make me a runner?  No!  It made me a protective mother.

My point is, even some who show up for the race aren’t necessarily runners at heart.  Many people have many motives for why they do what they do.

It’s those of us who forge on, despite criticism, despite our own self-doubt, despite the rough travel and slim odds – who are truly living the dream.  The dream is the journey.

Are you living your dream today? 🙂

Psalm 139…Amish-Country Style

When I visited the Amish country, I had no idea I would ever write a blog.  I feel humbled and privileged that God had in mind to put some of my photos from this trip to Scripture and post them here.  Life really is a journey, and with Him it is never boring.

Psalm 139 has been my life Scripture.  This passage has shared mountain-top highs with me and pulled my soul out of the pit.  It is a joy to offer a visual perspective of David’s incredible, tender heart in a unique way. I hope it speaks to you, too.

Psalm 139: 1-18, 23-24

Oh LORD, you have searched me and you know me.

You know when I sit

and when I rise;

you perceive my thoughts from afar.

You discern my going out

and my lying down;

you are familiar with all my ways.

Before a word is on my tongue

you know it completely, O LORD.

You hem me in – behind and before;

you have laid your hand upon me.  Such knowledge is too wonderful for me to attain.

Where can I go from your Spirit?  Where can I flee from your presence?

If I go up to the heavens you are there;

if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.

If I rise on the wings of the dawn,

if I settle on the far side of the sea,

even there your hand will guide me,

your right hand will hold me fast.

If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,”

even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.

For you created my inmost being;

you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;

your works are wonderful, I know that full well.

My frame was not hidden from you

when I was made in the secret place.

When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body.

All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.

How precious to me are your thoughts, O God!  How vast is the sum of them!

Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand.

When I awake, I am still with you.

Search me, O God, and know my heart;

Test me and know my anxious thoughts.

See if there is any offensive way in me,

and lead me in the way everlasting.

Psalm 23…Kenyan Style

Like visiting the home where we grew up, or seeing an old friend, sometimes reading classic Scripture hits the spot.  It’s familiar – like favorite coffee, summer rain or old slippers.  Through the memories of all of the times I’ve heard or read the 23rd Psalm, I am brought to a place of peace, tranquility and rejuvenation.  Today, I’ve put this Scripture to our Kenya photos so it can be enjoyed from a visual perspective.  Have a wonderful day!

Psalm 23

The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures,

he leads me beside quiet waters,

he restores my soul.

He guides me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil,

for you are with me,

your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

You prepare a table for me in the presence of my enemies.

You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life,

and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.

Restless

I’m not sure where all of this is leading us, but Bruce (my husband) and I are restless.  We can’t pretend we never saw the need.  We can’t pretend there isn’t STILL a need.  We can’t  ignore the 26,000 children who will die today from otherwise preventable sickness and disease.

We can’t forget the love and friendship extended to us when we were in Kenya.  We can’t forget the smiles and humble nature of the Kenyans from whom Americans could learn a lot!  We keep circling back to a place where we are so confused.  Both of us knew only our way of life for our entire lives.  Yes, we saw impoverished people on t.v.  Yes, we learned about people groups from all over the world in school.  However, I think we have finally realized why we are different now after going on mission to Kenya.

There is a strong, idol-like filter on America.  Everything we see, heard and read about pre-Kenya passed through a filter that encompassed all of our senses and soul.  The filter is called, normal.  What people view as normal is what they come to accept for their lives as the way things are supposed to be.  The most frightening thing about this filter is that we grew up believing our normal is right.  Right for us.  Before our trip, we heard of needs and did our best to meet them through financial aid and giving our time and energy toward projects like Operation Christmas Child and Samaritan’s Purse.  We went to bed at night, resting our heads on our soft pillows behind locked doors in a safe home, and we slept peacefully believing we had done what was required of us as believers.

Our restlessness isn’t only about experiencing the devastating needs in Kenya, which is much like so many other countries, but about who we are called to be as Christ-followers.  Just as when I add filters to my camera lens, everything I see through the viewfinder is altered by the filter’s skew.  It’s the same way with the American filter.  It has been removed, and Bruce and I stand wide-eyed, to the point of nausea, at what we allowed ourselves to become out of pure ignorance.  Our society is so content and comfortable where we are, that we risk nothing out of that comfort zone that jeopardizes what we want.  For some to say that they feel solely called to help fellow Americans, which is important in its own rite, says, as David Platt puts it in his book Radical, we boast that we feel called to help only 5% of the world’s population.  Is that Christ?

During one of our annual events held to benefit Samaritan’s Purse, someone I know came up to me and said, This is good and all, but next year I’m keeping my money here and helping my homeland.

Again, that is great and noble and needed.  But, dare I say, it is not enough.  Would any of us be believers today had the disciples in Acts stayed right where they were and never acted on the Great Commission given by Jesus?

Our society is drunk on pleasure, gorged on greediness, and is caught in a sleeper-hold of comfort.  My family is among them.   I am ashamed to say that our society will take care of others, only after the portion we give ourselves is met first.  What could possibly be an example of this?  Most people in the world live on a $1 or less.  Our society spends hundreds of dollars, if not thousands, on sports and arts for our children, thousands on holiday decorations, hundreds of thousands on clothes, shoes and cosmetics.  This isn’t mentioning the billions on vehicles, homes and education.  The far majority of what we spend our money on will not last. There will be no legacy.  No lasting impact for the Kingdom.  No special approval from God.  It’s just stuff that has woven us in its web and convinced us that these things will mean something one day.  Will they?

Below is an email that we recently received from our dear friend, Joseph.  We met him in Kenya. He is an overseer of an orphanage that we fell absolutely in love with there.  Some friends of ours are back there right now, and delivered a box of supplies we sent with them.  When we read this, we cried.  Why?  Because Joseph is a fellow believer.  We will spend eternity with him.  For now, he is hurting.  A couple of months ago, he lost his oldest son, whom we met, while trying to earn money for his family as a taxi driver of a piki piki (motorcycle).  We were devastated by the news.

It is very true that until a connection is made, it’s very easy for people to shrug off what they don’t want to deal with.  Joseph and the children are family to us. We pray for them every day.  The depth of my heart that was touched by his letter is impossible to put into words.  I invite you to share it with me…

Hi,

Greetings in the name of Jesus, how are you? We are all fine here. God has blessed us with rain although to others it devastating. The crops are doing well despite only yellowing of leaves in corn.

Your friends came to visit us on Wednesday, and they relayed your greetings and your friends’.

We have received the supplies and we are all happy about them.

We are happy when we are with you in prayers and we will not forget you for being with us also in the time of grief.  May God be with you and guide you as we are praying for you .

I remember your compassion when you were with us. The love of Christ that I have for you is never ending, may God bless you.

 Yours Faithfully,

 Joseph

To me, his letter was like reading the New Testament.  Brothers and sisters in Christ sharing His love and friendship whether near or far apart.  This is what will last.  This is what will impact future generations.  This is what furthers the Kingdom.  The photos below are of the Kenyans’ normal.  Does this look okay to us who have homes and vehicles and jobs?  I shot these throughout Kenya, not one solitary corner of the community. Step outside of Nairobi (with its slums as well as the business sector) and this is the countryside – a small, but accurate sampling.

I am most certain this post today will upset some people.  Frankly, I am upset too, as I see what believers in our country are capable of doing and what it is NOT being done.  Bruce and I don’t have all the answers, but we are restless.  Are you?


The Cure for a Mid-Life Crisis

Photo via Pinterest

I dreaded turning 40 my entire life.  That number always seemed like a lifetime away! Well, it came knocking on my door, and I have to say I didn’t handle it very well.  Okay, I freaked out.  I tried to hide it on the outside, but on the inside things changed.  Wow, I never thought I’d be a cliché, but so much of what people say about turning 40 is true!

I began to look back on my life – the good, bad and the ugly.  I spent quiet time alone reflecting on the way things were and they way things are now.  I noticed physical changes (oh joy!) as well as a shift in my attitude – for the good, I think.  I became less concerned with what people think of me.  I’m not motivated by people’s approval nearly as much as I used to be.  I began standing up for myself.  I realized that I cannot be everything to everyone all the time…and that’s okay.  I’m a lot more relaxed because I see things from a different perspective – hopefully a little wiser than before.

After pondering the past, I turned my focus to the future and joke that I’ve got one foot in the grave.  Well, based on statistics I do!  This weird sense of, I have to do all the things I’ve ever wanted to because, tick tock, time’s a wastin’!, crept into my thinking.  I felt a surge of self-imposed pressure to fulfill dreams and finally write and complete my bucket list right now.

At the same time, my husband is a few years older than me, and he has been swept in the undertow of being the primary provider for our family for so long he just doesn’t know any different.  He likes his position in life, though he stays continually tired.

He was a bit numb to a mid-life crisis because that takes extra time and energy he doesn’t have. On the contrary, some strange alarm went off inside me and I felt like a racehorse just waiting for the life’s gate to spring open.

What was I do to with myself?  I had a bad case of mid-life crisis!  What in the world is the remedy?  We’re not “stuffy” people so buying stuff isn’t going to fix it.  I’m not going to do anything foolish as the cliché goes.  But where would I be able to put all of this electrified energy and sense of urgency to do something completely out of my norm?

Enter…a mission trip to Africa.

I never saw that coming!  Who knew God had been working behind the scenes for many months to prepare our family’s hearts to go on mission.  We were as surprised as the friends and family we told.  But, we could not deny that this was exactly what God was sitting on us to do.  So we did.

Let me just say that when I look back on who I was pre-Africa, and in full-blown mid-life crisis mode, was utterly resolved in 2 weeks.  Just by reading the above of what I was feeling, it was all so self-centered!  A mid-life crisis usually is.  After all, it’s all about us.

There is nothing wrong with wanting a change in one’s life.  No one can blame someone for wanting shake up the norm a bit or fulfill a life dream.  But, the entire difference rode on the fact that a mission trip is designed for us to serve – not be served.

If we are to live like Christ, we must think like Him.  Matthew 20:28, “…the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

I was standing at a crossroads in life and was tempted to make the second half of my life all about me and my time and what I wanted to do.  My human nature was screaming its demands!  But, then we stepped onto the plane bound for Kenya.  I left my home, family and friends behind.  I also left part of myself.  I stepped off the plane in Kenya and, from that moment on, everything changed.  Not just for me, but for my husband, too.

For two weeks I watched my man of 22 years be on the verge of laughing or crying 24/7.  A part of him awakened – the part that craves life.  He rediscovered a passion for being part of something larger than himself.  A passion for helping others, sharing Jesus’ love, and living life to the fullest.  He also emerged an entirely new husband and father.  We all liked the former one, but this one has zeal for godly leadership in all ways of daily living.  Even his physical countenance changed.  I could not stop staring at him the entire trip, because I watched him morph from tired to totally alive.

I shook off my mid-life pity party over everything I haven’t been able to do, and saw, without blinders, this great big world God holds in His hands and the possibilities it possesses.  I fell in love with the Kenyan people and created bonds with our American team that will last a lifetime. Where my previous focus began to shift on myself, God used this mission trip to gently turn my face back toward His Kingdom work and toward the life that is waiting for me after this one passes.  I have always loved people and diversity, but serving on mission exploded in me a passion for others.  I LOVED serving, helping and assisting the Kenyan folk and our team.  Although I had no idea what I was doing, I was willing to do whatever was needed and we made memories that will carry me the rest of my life.  On the flip side, my heart utterly broke over the poverty Kenyans endure every single day.

Serving on mission was not something we sought out so much as it was what God called us to. God calls all believers to serve in some capacity, and we should all be seeking opportunities.  This was a huge lesson I learned.  It is the most humbling work I’ve ever done.  We serve locally as well, and that is also needed, but there is something very different about  leaving all of our creature comforts, language, culture, everything we understand as our normal, and go somewhere we don’t fit in, yet are so warmly welcomed by those waiting to greet us to work together for a common good – God’s will.  It is a truly unique experience that simply cannot be replicated at home.

A vacation trip of a lifetime is an incredible experience, and there is nothing wrong with that. We’d all love to take one!  But, I saw how vastly different vacations are from mission trips.  I’ve never been so tired, so drained, so energized, so alive – all at the same time – in all my life.  Our trip had purpose and meaning.  The work we began will long outlast the memory of us being there.  I like to watch the Travel Channel with Samantha Brown, Anthony Bourdain and Andrew Zimmern.  I’ve learned a lot as an armchair traveler about the difference between simply being a tourist and immersing oneself in a different culture and experiencing it from the inside out.  I’ll take immersion any day.

We are gearing up for our next mission trip this summer, and I can hardly wait to get started.  I left a piece of my heart in Kenya and will again on this trip I am sure.  When we look at the world through God’s eyes, and see His unconditional, relentless love for it, we must simply be a part of what He is doing no matter where or when.  There are so many bad things happening in the world right now.  But, traveling with God on mission allowed me to see there is a whole lot of good being done as well.

I may have left part of my heart on mission, but I brought back hope, empathy and an intense desire to serve those who need a helping hand. It’s how Christ lived.  He commands believers to do the same.

(Jesus) said to them, “Go into all the world and preach the good news to all creation.” 

~ Mark 16:15

My only regret is that we waited so long to go.  If I could rewind time…but I can’t.  However, serving on mission is something I really look forward to doing as long as I am physically able, and that gets me really excited about the next half of my life.

<<Check out a great book recommendation on my Books page!>>

Family Travel Review – New York City, Part 1 of 2

With summer around the corner, Another category is being added to the blog that I’m excited about…Family Travel Review.  Here, I’d like to offer our family’s two cents advice on what has worked, and not worked, while traveling as a family.  It’s a compilation of our trips and others who have shared their experiences.  Feel free to add posts with what works and what to avoid.  Everything below is family-friendly!!

Let’s start with a favorite – New York City!  This is a city that we just love to visit.  We’ve been going there for years and have some favorites to share.  Maybe they’ll become favorites to you, too!  As we continue to go back to the city that truly never sleeps, we’ll update the blog.  There’s a lifetime of things to do here.

New York City with the family:

Yes, it is possible to take children to NYC and have a ton of fun.  Some tips on how to make the most of your time there…

1. How old should children be to go to NYC?  We waited until our children could carry their own small backpacks and have good walking legs.  We didn’t want to bother with strollers or carry anyone, no way!  The more people in a group, the more water bottles, snacks, wallets, etc., which makes for a back-breaking experience.  When every can carry their own stuff, it’s so much easier on the parent.  We bought “travel backpacks” that are used every trip.  They are simple, inexpensive school-like backpacks.

2. Plan ahead.  There is so much to do there, make a wish list – then cut it in half.  Hey, it’ll give you an excuse to go back!  In an ideal world with no lines, no traffic, no oversleeping, and no crowds one could attempt to check everything off on his or her list.  But, that’s just not the case.  Realizing an activity really takes 1.5 – 2 times as long as it ideally should, helps a family go into a busy trip to NYC with more realistic expectations and cooler attitudes.  It’s vacation, after all, and should be enjoyed. J

Keep in mind the group with whom you are traveling.  I remember our most recent trip last fall, we wanted to check out the Guggenheim.  We took a subway as close to it as possible, with the idea of walking to the Gugg, then walking to our favorite ice skating rink (I’ll share that later).  Once we finally got to the Gugg, the majority of the crowd (children) were less than impressed.  We wound up touring the gift store and leaving.  Ug.  Then we walked a LONG way to ice skating. By the time we got there, the adults were too tired to skate.  The walk was gorgeous, and made for great chat time, but to do it over again, we would’ve skipped the Gugg with the kids and saved that for a later date.  So keep in mind what and where you want to spend your time.  View online maps and arm yourself with hours of operation, reservations, if needed, and subway strategies.  Your homework will pay off.

3. Restaurants:  There are a bagillion places to eat in NYC, and many are very kid-friendly.  We are pizza connoisseurs – okay, pizza snobs.   Our family’s favorite?  Lombardi’s.  Oh man.  It’s a small joint that serves up big pies.  Pizzas are coal-fired with a sweet sauce and real mozzarella slices melted on top.  There is no other pizza anywhere like Lombardi’s.  The waits are never bad (we beat the normal dinner crowd and get there before 6pm) and there is seating on the roof for spillover.  People there say NYC pizza is the best because of the water that is used in making the dough.  Whatever it is, it’s so good!  John’s Pizza is good too, and one location is a renovated church with stained glass ceilings – which is really cool.  If you’re looking for a traditional pie, this is a great place.

* Junior’s.  The serve a rockin’ breakfast!  Actually, all of their food is really great.  If you like cheesecake, you have to try Junior’s.  They have indoor/outdoor seating, very cool atmosphere, casual, and it’s right down the street from Broadway so often people watch a show then head to Junior’s.  My children’s favorite memory of this incredible restaurant is when we went to just have dessert.  For a family of five, it was less expensive to order an entire cheesecake than by the slice.  So we did.  But, we had leftovers, obviously.  We took the other half back to our hotel room and stuck it in the mini fridge.  We were checking out the next morning, so yes, we had cheesecake for breakfast.  The kids still remember – the day Dad & Mom let us have cheesecake for breakfast!

* Street vendors.  Some of our best meals have been on the street.  It’s hard to walk by and not be taken in by the smell of hot dogs, curry chicken, peppers & onions, pretzels, etc.  It’s mouth-watering.  It’s also affordable.  We like to grab a meal, take a break and people watch.  It’s almost better than sitting inside a restaurant because we can see all the action outside.

* Smith & Wolensky.  You gotta get the seafood tower (big enough for the whole table).  It’s out of control and the rib eye is one of the best steaks you’ll ever have.  Career wait staff – excellent service!  Pricey.  A total NYC experience. (Submitted by my husband who went their while on business.)

* Ferrara Café.  This jewel of a find is in Little Italy.  The atmosphere is busy and the ambiance very NYC Italian.  The desserts are mouth-watering.  They offer just about anything Italian you can imagine.  Pricey.  But, it’s worth the splurge.  We usually go there once while there.

* Peanut Butter & Co.  We haven’t visited this establishment yet, but we buy their products in our local grocery store.  VERY delicious!  White chocolate, dark chocolate, maple, cinnamon swirl – all varieties of peanut butter.  Next time in NYC, we will definitely go there and check it out.

4.  Things to do:

* Carriage ride through Central Park.  You gotta do this once.  It’s pricey, but my family really enjoyed this.  The clip-clop of horses meandering through Central Park, breathing the familiar NYC air, it’s part of the experience.  Afterward, we chatted with the SPCA division of the police force giving an impromptu check on the horses.  The horses are clean and well-cared for, but it made me feel even better to hear that from the police force.

* Empire State building.  Another must!  Buy tickets early or be prepared to stand in line half a block long (at least).  The main tickets get you to the main viewing floor (think Sleepless in Seattle).  An additional ticket takes you to the very peak on a separate elevator.  We did both.  We found that the additional money to the tip top wasn’t worth it.  It’s small, cramped, and the windows are fogged up.  It felt just like being on a boat in the cabin underneath.  And, there is only one elevator, so once you’re ready to leave, be prepared to wait a very long time.  But the main floor viewing was awesome.  Great photo op, windy, and even King Kong makes an appearance for a photo op.

* Statue of Liberty.  Yes, you must.  It’s patriotic! We took the ferry from the Jersey side, which is less-traveled.  Very good idea.  What we didn’t realize was the never-ending security process.  It took us about 3 hours to get through it (albeit it was July), then we could actually begin enjoying Lady Liberty.  People are no longer allowed to climb up it like they used to, but there is a museum experience inside it that’s cool.  Bags are not permitted, so what we didn’t realize when we skipped lunch to catch the ferry, was that we’d have to wait hours and hours to eat – not good with smaller children.  All in all, glad we did this!

* Broadway show.  We splurged once and saw The Little Mermaid.  Unbelievable!  The props, acting, the whole shebang.  Such a great experience.  I was surprised at how casually everyone dressed.  Everything from jeans to dresses.  Catch a show if time permits.  Tickets, sometimes reduced, are on sale in Times Square for same-day shows if you feel the mood.

* Metropolitan Museum of Art – spectacular.  No way to see it all in one visit.  Better for older children.

* American Museum of Natural History  – so worth it!  Great for kids of all ages.

* Enjoy the go! by Charmin.  Nicest bathrooms in all of NYC.  Big-screened tv’s, music, lots of wait staff standing around.  This sounds ridiculous, but bathrooms can be really hard to come by.  Most times there is a line down the street to get in Charmin’s.  If you pop into a restaurant, be prepared to purchase something for the privilege of using their facilities.

* Toys R Us versus  FAO Schwartz.  Definitely Toys R Us.  FAO is small, over-priced, and not as conveniently located as Toys R Us (in Times Square).  Skip the huge piano keyboard at FAO (which has very long wait lines and kids don’t know what to do on them after 5 seconds anyway).  Toys R Us is 4 stories, complete with indoor Ferris wheel.  They have live demos of the latest toys, bathrooms, and every toy imaginable.  I never thought we’d take time to visit a toy store in NYC, but this is more of an attraction.

<<Check back tomorrow for part 2 with more attractions, accommodations, etc.!!>>

Rules for life

In my mind, I’m back in Kenya.  This time it is night.  We are no longer on mission.  It is the end of the trip, and we are on safari.  This place was like nothing I have ever seen.  Very eco-friendly.  Amazing!  The detached huts were spaced well apart, and the one, large dining hut was a decent walk away.  That was it.  No gates. No fences.  No trace of humanness.  Just wild, wide open space and a small, gravel path that connected the huts together.  Below us was a river that hippos splash in all day.  At any time, you can hear them grunt and moan and show off.

Everyday, we set of on safari with a guide.  Most were Maasai warriors – the real deal.  Friendly.  Strong.  Brave.  Confident.  We saw so many amazing animals up close and very personal – it took my breath away.  However, more surreal than that was nighttime.  There were clearly stated rules we had to follow.  This is what we were told, Under no circumstances, ever, do you come out of your hut at night alone.  There are predators that come to this camp, and you must not venture outside your hut.  If you need something, use this small light.  Shine it in the night, and a Masai watchman will come running to help you.  When leaving the dining lodge, you must have an escort because it will be dark.  You must NOT walk to your hut alone in the dark.  The reiterated their point several times.  Got it.

Were the hosts doing this to spoil our fun?  Absotluely not.  They were doing it to keep us safe.  After dinner one night, a small group of us huddled together to wait for a Maasai escort to go to our huts for the night.  It seemed out of nowhere, a tall, slender Maasai in a bright red kanga (a one-piece garment), holding a walking stick taller than him, appeared from the darkness.  My friend walked with him down the path, chatting as they went, when suddenly he stopped moving and shushed her.  He said, Wait.  Lion.  He cocked his ear toward the black of night and listened.  After a few seconds (which seemed like an eternity to my friend, frozen in fear) he softly spoke, Two-hundreds yards.  We’re okay.  My friend said she was about to crawl up under his kanga in fear as they continued trekking to her hut.

When it was my family’s turn, we wanted to all climb on the Maasai’s shoulders!  The danger was so real you could sense it, like smelling rain before it begins to fall. As we walked down the narrow gravel path to our hut, the Maasai shone his flashlight into the bushes inches from our feet.  I didn’t even want to know what he was looking out for.  I asked our Maasai, Do you ever get scared?  This huge warrior, donning a war-colored kanga and armed with only a spear, looked at me with his deep, dark eyes and stated firmly, No – as if I had just asked a stupid question.  Well, okay then, I thought to myself.  I didn’t bring it up again.  Later I found out that this Maasai has killed, not one, but six lions with his bare hands!  Oh…my…word! Another Maasai with our team once jumped into a hippo-infested, crocodile-plagued river to save five drowning tourists.  He jumped in and saved them all, all by himself.  Wow.  These men are modern-day superheroes!

As we slept that night in our hut, with the steel door locked and the canvas windows zipped up, the nighttime activity began.  Nighttime on the Mara is very active.  Hunting is huge at this time.  The day before we arrived, a jaguar had been seen walking through the camp.  Whoa.  They didn’t have to tell me twice to stay in our hut.  The beds lined the perimter of the hut, with our heads against the dried mud wall.  The steel door made me feel safe, but the entire backside of the hut was canvas (like a tent).  My husband jokingly said, It’s just a wrapper (as in a candy bar and we’re the treat).  Ha ha, Honey.  The lights were shut off (literally, they cut power to the rooms at 11pm).  We could not see the hand in front of our face.  But, that was kind of okay with me because that meant we couldn’t see the enormous bugs hanging on the mosquito nets that draped over our beds.

Then it began.  Thump.  Bump.  Snort.  Groan.  Moan.  Grunt.  Kick. Wham! up against the walls our heads were resting against.  The animals came.  In large number.  They were literally right outside, and only a mud wall stood between us and them.  My heart beat so hard I knew for sure every predator within miles could hear it. Hippos, zebra, wildebeests, Thompson gazelles, you name it, was there.  Oh, and at least one lion that the Maasai heard.  All night, the thumping and bumping up against our mud wall continued.  My family and I laid there, in the stark blackness, and whispered, Did you hear that?  Did you feel that?  The owners weren’t kidding when they said the danger is real.

Obviously, we survived.  In fact, we had the best time of our entire lives!!  Why? How?  Every moment we were there, we were in some kind of danger.  We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves because we obeyed the rules.  We stayed on the marked paths.  We didn’t go out after dark.  We enlisted the Maasai to help us when needed.  When near the wild animals, we didn’t call to them or disturb them.  We kept all limbs inside the open-air vehicles at all times.  We sat very, very quietly when animals passed by our Landrover.  In addition to medicine and protective clothing, we followed bug repellent guidelines so as to avoid contracting malaria.  These are examples of rules that are meant to keep us safe, not spoil our fun, while in the wild.

Living according to God’s Word is the same.  He has given us the Bible as a rulebook, of sorts, to follow.  Is this to spoil our quality of life?  No, in fact, it is to enhance it.  When we live with Christ in our heart, we desire to please God.  It’s a choice we make.  Jesus said Himself, The thief comes only to steal and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full (John 10:10).  In keeping God’s commandments in both the Old and New Testaments, we have freedom to really, truly, deeply live – not merely survive.

2 Timothy 3:16-17, All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the man of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.

Leviticus 25:18 (God speaking), Follow my decress and be careful to obey my laws, and you will live safely in the land.

Proverbs 3:5-6 promises, Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him and he will make your paths straight.

Psalm 119:33-35, Teach me, O LORD, to follow your decrees; then I will keep them to the end.  Give me understanding, and I will keep your law and obey it with all my heart.  Direct me in the path of your commands, for there I find delight.

John 14:15 (Jesus speaking), If you love me, you will obey what I command.

Instead of resenting and testing the boundaries God has set for our lives as believers, let’s embrace them!  He has our best interest at heart and is working for our eternal good – all the time.  Dwell in God’s Word.  Absorb it.  Let it become who you are.  We will continue to sin, sinful people that we are.  But, we can minimize the difficulties we create for ourselves when living according to the standard God has set in the Bible.  In doing so, we are free to fully enjoy the life in Christ has to offer such as trust, joy, peace, and contentment.  Psalm 91:1-2 says it best, He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.  I will say of the LORD, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.’

The Maasai have their knowledge, strength, courage, walking sticks, and handmade spears to keep them safe.  All are very impressive.  Christians have the Word of God which is living and active and sharper than any double-edged sword (Hebrews 4:12) –  the sword of the Spirit which is the word of God (Ephesians 6:17).  In it, He’s given us everything we need to make wise choices.  Choose wisely today.

<<Check out some of my safari photos in the Photo Gallery page!>>

I am here, my heart is there

I woke up in Africa today, if only in my heart.  We traveled to Kenya as a family last summer on a short-term mission trip, and I am convinced part of me stayed there.  If I close my eyes and draw a deep breath, I can still smell the smoke from the Masai warriors’ burned wood.  If I sink my ears into my pillow, I can hear the laughter of the hundreds of children we had the pleasure to meet.  If I dismiss the daily to-do’s waiting for me, I am able to replay the memories we made as a team and as individuals.

What I still can’t forget are the smiles.  Hundreds and hundreds of smiles shining at us.  I can’t forget the extremely special people we met.  We felt like we had known them for a lifetime.  I miss them.

And the tomatoes!  I’ve never in all my life had a tomato so sweet and delicious – you could eat them like an apple.  The smell of the night air.  Unpolluted.  Dewey. Sweet.  The fun we had!  Singing, sharing, working.  Standing on a mountain top, looking at people who have never seen white folk.  I’d never seen Kenyan tribal folk.  The language barrier – and how it really didn’t matter.  Love truly knows no language.  Smiles, playing, and just being together provided so much love we needn’t say a word.  I was captivated watching the children’s faces as they saw themselves for the first time – through my camera’s lens.  Never had some seen what they look like.  Never had they seen themselves in motion as on Bruce’s iPad.  The squeals of delight and fascination were contagious.

The poverty.  Heart-breaking poverty.  It was everywhere my eye wandered.  I couldn’t get away from it.  Even in our bunk rooms, children stood outside the door begging.  Give me sweets?  Give me Bible?  Give me sweets?  Give me Bible? they repeated over and over.  There is so much need.  They need clean water, dental hygiene, shoes, clothes that do not have gaping holes in them and that actually fit.  They need allergy medicine, education, medical care, and to hear they are loved.  My heart broke for them – with good reason.  They have many, many important needs.

However, when we asked them if they want what we have in America, they said no.  Hmm.  Why?  Because, they said, we see what it costs you to have it. Wow.  I was speechless.  They nailed it.  They are impoverished people, but they are hard-working, loving, accepting people.  They pay no attention to status, material possessions or anything that labels a person.  They are thrilled just to spend time together.  They have true community.  Something we lack.

We worked primarily with children.  It still amazes me that the entire time we were there, I heard not one single complaint from them!  Not one I’m bored, I’m tired, I don’t want to, but why, why not, I’m cold, I’m hungry, or a single negative comment.  Not one.  Children who have no parents, no shoes, no possessions to call their own.  Not even electricity or running water.

But boy were they happy!  They laughed and sang and took us by the hand and showed us their orphanages, schools, and church.  They played soccer with us, danced with us, braided my daughter’s hair, and showed us how to harvest corn in the fields.  They wanted nothing from us, but were so thankful for what we brought.  I met a boy who has the mind of an engineer, and I got to introduce a Rubik’s Cube to him.  I met a teenage girl that hopped on our bus to ride up the mountain that she climbs every day…just because she wanted to feel what it was like to ride in a vehicle.  She wants to be a teacher or doctor.

My kids fell head over heels in love with all of the children.  My daughter is still trying to convince us to adopt the special friend she made.  If only life were that easy.  My oldest teen made instant friends with another teen there who wants to be a pastor.  They were soul brothers just like that.  My youngest helped buy and cut wood with his dad, and played soccer every single day with boys his age.  They helped with VBS, led worship at church, and dug ditches to help build a kitchen onto one orphanage.  Our children were changed forever.  All of the children on the team were.  We all were.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, so embedded is a video I made from the photos I took.  Watch with me.  I need to see their faces again.  Smell the dewy air.  Feel the rich soil beneath your feet.  Hear nothing but kids laughing and playing.  See the precious, beautiful Kenyan people.  They have many needs, but after being with them, I think they are some of the richest people in the world.