The shift-Part 1

Part of me dreads starting this…the other part knows I must.  The likelihood that I convey the fullness of what I’ve experienced during this trip is impossible.  It’s almost an insult really.  I say this with all truth-I’ve been changed, again. “Shifted” as I was told in the village of Kiang'ombe—moved.  It’s more a feeling of being altered.

Even as I reread this opening—I sigh and chuckle though my tears, “Just start writing”, I tell my self-start.

As I sit in Nairobi I wait….Five hours before my flight to Dubai—in Eldoret with Ted just an hour ago—my heart hurting to say farewell to he and Brenda.  I stay tonight in Dubai, travel to LA, then home.  As much as I want to see Rhonda and my children, my stomach hurts with the thought of leaving.

I don’t want to go. 

Talking with Ted & Brenda last night…feels like I’ve been punched in the face-repeatedly, and then, stopping for a moment—I hear only a whisper….

”You see? Now? You see??  OK…get to work”.

I recall & think of a single task completed with Ted yesterday that took only an hour…it will far out weigh any “work” I’ll do over the next days…weeks….whatever.  That’s harsh-I know..but, I don’t care.  Amazing what happens when serious, serious, real need is placed in front of my face—What I think is of importance…is forgotten. Totally.  I phone updates, clean socks, clean water, fresh veggies, toys, shoes, bikes, a bed, a toilet, a job, a book, the next U2 album, a picture of what I am eating to show everyone how ‘healthy’ I am-(I ate goat at a Muslims home and never felt more full, or loved in my life),  a picture of me swimming, running, appearing very “together”…whatever..the list goes on. This is the struggle.

What a blessing it’s been to re-evaluate and see where I am straying.  I felt selfish-and in my Western bias, coming to help—I still “took” from those who worry about the next meal, and where it is coming from.  I carefully extracted form the Kenyan man, woman, and child…what happiness ‘is’, not just ‘looks like’.  What work feels like and how the meaningless and monotony is nothing when the focus is placed on Jesus. I have story, after story, after story, after story, of biting my cheek to keep the tears down, not only because of sadness for what I see-but, sadness at what I still need to have God remove.  Stubbornness of my need for comfort-and why I continue to pull the wool over my eyes.

No one lies to me more than me. It’s true.

I felt Shame over these days. Despite the happiness I had, the feeling of fulfilling my design, my wiring, my talents, my gifts..the shame was the first nudge….


I’m leaving home in a sense, and foundations of my life are “Shifting”. I’ve seen, a bit of my future.  Much in the same way I felt when I first put eyes on Rhonda over 25 years ago….”Woah…uh what is this feeling?-and, what do I do to keep it?”
Ian and Ann told me in the midst of the sadness, heaviness, and pain, what we are doing is only a drop in the ocean.  We still give-all of ourselves, rather than take. Even a drop.

I can’t wait to go back.

Plans are already in the works for a return trip very soon.

Part 2 this week....