After
thirty-two years of coming to this place,
well over half
a lifetime for me,
it’s become a second home.
Though the
desert is a stark contrast
to my beloved Pacific NW terrain,
I’m at home here.
Eating ugali
and goat meat,
sweating while I drink a cup of hot tea in 90+ degree heat,
letting “Bwana Asifiwe” (Praise the Lord)
roll off my tongue.
Over the years,
we have shared not only the gospel
but our very lives with one another.
These people have become my people.
What matters to them matters to me.
This kind of
exposure therapy—
of listening to stories and gaining perspective,
of being surrounded by prayer,
of having my heart stretched,
of being infused with love,
of being with people who love well,
of being comfortable being uncomfortable—
this keeps changing me for the better.
My dear friends
from India,
Ratnakar and Saroja,
added to the beauty of Kenya
with their stories,
with their dancing,
with their cooking—
infusing flavor
and life and color
and perspective.
Veronica hosted
us
and truly was a superwoman—
pulling things together,
following up with children,
managing tensions,
reading the room.
Our connection
has become a lifeline—
to support the program,
to support one another,
to love one another,
to love each other’s families,
with our hopes and dreams and aches and pains
across the miles.
Because of time
well spent,
we have more perspectives,
more voices,
more stories.
We are not as locked into our single stories
about one another or about the world.
Giving thanks
for the crowded table
with these brothers and sisters.
Giving thanks for the love that is like mycelium—
the web beneath all we see.
Giving thanks that our stories are woven together
and that we belong to one another.
Giving thanks
for the way Kenya keeps expanding my heart.
Bwana Asifiwe!
