The Lord Helps Those who Help Themselves

We have a good-sized garden, largely planted with sukuma (greens) which are a staple here along with ugali. Trouble is, we mzungus don’t eat that much of it and as a result, many of our neighbors have been invited to come and pick greens at will. And they do. But the plot has become rather neglected and overgrown, frankly, because the daily labor of wash, food preparation, schooling, and such is quite enough to fill my hours. I haven’t made the garden a priority.

But yesterday it came to my attention that the condition of our little shamba (farm) is bordering on shameful, and folks are talking. So, today I sent Isaiah out with the slasher to cut the overgrowth along our back fence, Rebekah stepped up to do laundry while Jonah cultivated around our various fruit trees and Deborah and I grabbed some hoes and weeded in the garden. I decided that two rows would suffice for today, and then we’d call it quits and move on to school.

Lo and behold, as we finished our second row (surprisingly, a good two hours’ work), my neighbor–one who regularly comes to pick our greens—sauntered over and grabbed Deborah’s hoe. So I kept on working a third row alongside of her. Not more than ten minutes had passed when a large group of teenaged girls came by and began loitering along our fence. Apparently the sight of a mzungu hoeing is amusing. Well, Christine let them have it and,  after a barrage of Bukusu (the local tribal dialect), most of the girls came into the yard. Several took over the hoes we had, a few started toward the back yard with the wheelbarrow full of weeds, and the rest headed for the swing set. It seemed they traded off play for labor amongst themselves and Christine made an excellent overseer. I finished up the “hard laundry” that Bekah couldn’t manage to scrub, and then went in to clean the kitchen floor (which had also been on my to-do list for this morning).

By the time noon rolled around, there was more play than work going on and some of the neighborhood “bad element” had snuck in under cover of all the activity to glance surreptitiously (and not so surreptitiously) at some of the kitchen things that I had moved outside in order to clean the floor, and into the kitchen itself. I ended up chasing everyone out of the yard, but not before about 3/4 of the garden had been cultivated.

Although “The Lord helps those who helps themselves” isn’t exactly a Biblical statement, it sure was true today. I’m praising God for a community of hard workers and glad to have gotten so much accomplished!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Water, Water, Everywhere…

…and not a drop to drink? Yes, such has occasionally been the case in the last six-plus months here in Kenya. To say that water has been a challenge would certainly be an understatement.

It started with carrying water…and complaining.

Then, the blessing of a rainwater collection tank (and piping to a spigot right outside our back door!) followed by a catastrophic failure that required major re-investment and work.

Then, later, digging a borehole and developing it into a well–with no little trouble of its own. And finally, INDOOR RUNNING WATER at the kitchen sink and the hand-washing sink in the dining area! If you knew my sweet Uncle Bud (my grandfather’s brother), you’d smile like I did when I heard his response to that major advance in technology: “That’s an answer to a prayer I didn’t even pray yet!” But even gaining that involved its own time, money and stress. Plumbing (especially of the indoor variety) is not, as you can imagine, very common here, and there’s no Home Depot or Lowe’s for one-stop shopping. The local hardware store is barely adequate to the task. We’ve had fittings that don’t fit, hose that exploded under pressure, and leaks innumerable. We’ve disconnected and re-connected, tested, and replaced things too many times to count.

Icing on the cake? The loss of our American-bought well pump after a torrential rain somehow muddied the crystal clear well-water and the pump couldn’t keep up with continual use as we tried to clean out the system.  Glenn Roseberry (who visited us before moving on to Tanzania) graciously brought us a new pump in his luggage, and we recently got everything up and running once again.  Not sure why, but the water is no longer crystal-clear, so we’ve reverted to bleaching our drinking water again (after the failure of our brought-from-America Berkey water filter…sigh…)

All that to say, given our history with water, I’m not sure how long this will last–but we’re all very excited to have a HOT WATER SHOWER!

 

 

The School Year Begins!

This week, we were officially “back to school.” I admit to feeling woefully unprepared; I haven’t re-visited my scope-and-sequence for each of the children to refresh myself and provide necessary direction, which is something I’ve faithfully done in previous years. I haven’t reviewed “daily responsibilities” with the children to help things go smoother. And we haven’t been having a daily Circle Time or training times except for a handful of days since coming to Africa. I miss that terribly and know what a great difference it makes in the overall scheme of things. But honestly, the burden of daily work has just made it impractical for all of us to get on the same page and sit down together as I would like. The best time has been afternoon, but inevitably when I think “Wow, we can have Circle Time or do a little bit of training!”…the afternoon rains are upon us and it’s so loud in our tin-roofed house that all we can do is sit down and look at each other. The person next to you can barely hear you, even if you’re yelling. But, it sure makes a good time for each of the kids to sit down with a book (which everyone also enjoys).

In our first five days of schooling, we actually only did three complete days. Life kinda got in the way. We ended up harvesting and canning our carrots one day (21 quarts plus a bunch fresh, which will last a while!). That day, we managed a half-day of school in addition to the extra work. Marc and I went to town another day, and the kids under Isaiah’s supervision did well in managing the day’s work and food needs, as well as taking good care of the baby, but only did a half day of schooling in the process.

On Friday, after not having cleaned my kitchen floor in two weeks and having that on my to-do list (and needing to wash the dining area/sitting room floors as well) PLUS having an extra-large load of wash to do, I was sure that trying to get all that done AND a full days’ school was pretty unrealistic…but I was pleasantly surprised. Jonah cleared out the sitting room and swept, then Deborah followed up with water and squeegee. I set aside my laundry for a quick quality-control check, and then they got to their books. Everyone else had other jobs to do, which took some time, but they got done and got to their schooling as well. And the baby was happy to sit in his stroller while I did wash, instead of wandering around looking for trouble as usual.

Recently, we’ve been having some issues with faithfulness (the children doing as asked, particularly while I am outside focusing on the daily wash)…they know I’m not really paying attention and you know what the Bible says about children left to themselves bringing their mother to shame? It’s true! Well, on Friday I was certainly distracted with my daily work but pleased to see a change in the “norm,” with all the kids inside staying on-task. The difference? I suddenly realized that Marc was unexpectedly HOME, and although he was trying to rest and ended up reading a book in bed…HE WAS HOME. The kids knew it. They got their stuff done! And even had a little time to enjoy the new swing set before lunch. Granted, lunch was a bit late as I finished up the laundry and squeegeed the kitchen floor…but everyone agreed that it was both a productive and enjoyable morning. And in the end, a full day of schooling was accomplished! God is good.

Isaiah (our oldest, age 13 and in 8th grade) has decided that he wants to be a missionary bush pilot and has been focusing a lot in that direction. There is a flight school in Nairobi, which he can enroll in as early as age 16, so he’s prepping for the GED and wants to test-out as early as possible to get into the program. All as the Lord wills, but the goal is a good one and GED prep is a fine thing to aim for. He’s got lots of enthusiasm and it’s helping him take responsibility for his education. So also this week, Marc and Isaiah sat down for a planning session and figured out his scope-and-sequence for the sciences, which was a big relief to me. Now I just need to sit down and so the same for the Social Studies. We use a curriculum for math that we feel will prepare him well enough (not to mention, he’s got a pretty analytical mind, anyway).

Not a bad first week, though (needless to say), I hope in subsequent weeks to get more accomplished in less time.

For those of you who are homeschooling, how’s your year going?

 

African Old Wives’ Tales

  • If a baby boy wears diapers, he will have fertility problems as an adult.
  • If you wear glasses you will damage your eyes, but carrots will “wash” your eyes.
  • Chameleons are dangerous and mzungus who handle them must put special chemicals on their hands when they do so.
  • If you sit on cooking stones, you will grow a cow’s tail.
  • Men and women who are interested in becoming more fertile should run around naked at night.
  • If you have joint aches and fever, it must be malaria.
  • A baby who does not wear a hat during the cool of the afternoon will not grow hair.
  • Chewing sugar cane cleans your teeth.
  • Ugali (and only ugali) makes you grow strong and healthy.

Busy Morning, Ending with SWING SET!

While I did my morning’s wash, here’s what was going on around me:

Aniga came over early, and he, Marc, and Isaiah started on building the swing set. After leaving instructions for the completion of the project, Marc left for a meeting with a local pastor.

Here are Isaiah and Aniga working on the build:

While I was busy with laundry, Rebekah was taking care of a few things in the house: dishes, baby-watching, and filling up the drinking water:

Hannah helped Rebekah with the dishes and baby-watching, then she carried swings out to the guys so they’d be ready to hang when the time came:

Micah and Jubilee were out digging “bore holes” in the sand pile–

Deborah (my right-hand gal) helped me with the laundry and then hit the books.

Jonah got to take it easy a bit…he’s not been feeling well. He did some language arts and then this:

Amidst all these “goings-on,” we had a guest visiting. Gilbert has been attending our house church and is a pretty good translator. He’s had some health problems and hasn’t been working his farm, so he’s had financial struggles as well. Unfortunately, finding work that he can do is difficult. One thing we did was to have him go through a “Beginning Horticulture” course (though we still have to review all of his questions-and-answers); eventually, Kingdom Driven Ministries will provide him with a certificate of completion. Now, we’ve decided to teach him how to use the computer. Surprising how difficult this is when you don’t grow up at all familiar with the technology (like the average American). Here is Gilbert hard at work, copying the Sermon on the Mount in Microsoft Word:

Enoch, though being “watched” by his two older sisters, still eventually managed to get into the dishes they were doing:

By this time, the first swing was up–Enoch laughed and smiled through his whole “maiden voyage”:

Lunch time rolled around, and no one wanted to eat. Here’s what they did instead:

Apparently I Missed the Memo that I am Selfish

Many years ago now (and sorry I don’t know the source), I recall reading another Mom’s confession: becoming a Mom showed me how incredibly selfish I was.

Guilty as charged. Over many years of mothering, I’ve slowly become less selfish and more of a “servant” (in a good, “I want to glorify God” sort of way). I’ve come to terms with the fact that a full night’s sleep is over-rated. And that when I’m short on sleep, I still need to be loving...and patient. And as you know, Mom’s don’t get sick days. Not only that, no matter how hard we work compared to everyone else, we need to be an example to our children of how to “work with all our hearts as working for the Lord” and “having the attitude of Christ,” who did not come to be served but to serve. Motherhood has given me many opportunities to put aside my flesh and my selfish desires and do what is necessary and best for my family and for the Lord. I don’t do it perfectly, but after 13 years and counting…I’m getting there.

Or so I thought.

Being “on the mission field” here in Africa has just afforded me yet many more opportunities to work on my inherent selfishness and focus on pleasing not myself, but my God.

We’re “known” here. The mzungus who have come to share the Word of God. They don’t call first, they just show up. They want to talk to “Baba Isaiah” or “Missionary Marc,” as my husband is known. And it’s my job to greet them all and play hostess. If it’s a group of women, I try to take the lead on conversation. I have to admit, that’s a challenge for me. We’re still not fluent in Swahili, and many of them know little or know English, so it’s very often…very awkward. But more than that, the visits usually happen when I’d prefer they didn’t. Like when I’ve “finally” finished my morning’s work and can finally sit down and read a book to the littles whom I can’t help but feel like I’ve neglected for far too long. Or when the children are (for once) all enjoying some free time outside and I might just be able to read a good book for a few minutes. Or it could be that I haven’t even finished the wash yet, and if it doesn’t happen soon, we’ll miss the window of opportunity on the sunshine to dry them…and once dragged in the house, there’s never enough room on kitchen clothesline for the damp stuff, and it’ll just have to get brought out to the line again tomorrow. In the middle of meal preparation? Well, turn down the heat on the unpredictable propane stove and pray that it doesn’t burn. Burnt supper? Let’s see what we can do…

I still want it my way: my to-do list (however noble the tasks might be), my schedule, my convenience.

And if they’re not coming here…Marc is going “out there.” I look forward to those precious one or two days each week that he’s supposed to be “off.” But he rarely is. Phone calls, more drop-ins, unexpectedly scheduled meetings, baptisms, paperwork to catch up on…and sometimes (in my more selfish moments), I wish we could have more family time. It’s important to us, and we do what we can with what we have; we try to set boundaries…but I have to admit, sometimes my attitude about being “on mission” and about all of the inevitable interruptions, isn’t the best. I’m still selfish.

But I’m working on it.

Cute Baby, Big Brothers, and Donkeys in the Yard

 

Lately we’ve all seemed tired, some have had recurring headaches, and each day has had enough trouble of its own…so blogging has kind of fallen by the wayside. Here are a few photos by way of update:

Enoch, at 15 months, keeps us all smiling. Still pretty much non-verbal (except for the occasional “Mama” or “bye,”) he still manages to communicate quite well. His loud and abrupt, “Eh!” sound usually indicates that an older sibling is provoking him in some way and he is not pleased. Enoch also has an amusing love/hate relationship with both our cats. They put up with his merciless pulling of fur because they usually end up sharing food on the floor after meals. Here, I put the pan of crumbs on the floor for the cats after we had polished off our breakfast cake–and look who ended up with the advantage!


A week or so ago, Isaiah was experimenting with molding plastic (not sure why, but it’s always one project or another). He needed some good “clay” to make a mold for the melted plastic and the soil right next to our house showed some good specimens. He set to work digging a big hole, and up toddled Enoch to “help.” He loves to copy his big brother. 🙂

And speaking of big brothers, the entire neighborhood now knows that our 11 year-old, Jonah’s, greatest wish was to find a chameleon for a pet in Africa. As a result, he now has SIX. Here is one. He has names for them all, but I can’t keep up. He spends about an hour a day hunting for appropriate-sized flies, grasshoppers, and crickets to feed all these little guys. The locals are scared of them and believe them to be poisonous. Our neighbor, witnessing both Jonah and Rebekah handling them, said she thinks that we must be using some chemicals on our hands to be able to do that safely.

Please disregard the pretty pink princess sleeping bag hanging over Isaiah’s head here. (It started to rain before the laundry was completely dry, so we have a back-up clothesline stretched across the kitchen.) Isaiah decided to use my kitchen counter as a work bench for his new “business”–grinding jembes (hoes), slashers, pangas (machetes), axes, and knives. It puts a few shillings in his pocket, which he is excited about. We have talked at length about “business opportunities” for the boys–we don’t want to take business away from any locals, and  will allow them to pursue things that only “we” are able to do. Because we have solar power and an inverter as well as a generator–and a good grinding tool–Isaiah is able to do this work, which no one else in the area does. Jonah has been baking cakes for a couple of local shops and selling small pieces for 5 shillings each–also something that no one else does because, of course, only the mzungus have an oven!

Finally, we’ve been having a local guy (Aniga) do some various odd jobs for us, most involving working with wood. One project is to make a smaller gate in our fence (we currently have a very large and very heavy gate, which takes two people to open and close. We don’t really need one that large for foot traffic and Marc’s motor bike, which is mostly what goes in and out). Also, eventually he will be building a SWING SET for the children! (Can’t wait for this one!!) Grampy gave the kids a Wal-Mart gift card for Christmas right before we moved and we bought and shipped in our crate a few swings and all the bracketry we would need to assemble a swing set–the only thing we’ve been lacking is lumber. So that’s on the agenda, too. Anyway, recently Aniga went out to purchase some big lumber. Usually things make it home by motorbike, but the size and weight of these was just too much for a piki-piki. We were all surprised and quite amused when THIS showed up in our front yard:

Yes, those are donkeys. Expect the unexpected!

Immunizations, Prescription Drugs, and GMO

While in America, we ran in some pretty conservative homeschooling circles. Although we never did go the “no-immunization” route with our children, I certainly was swayed toward that position, and Marc and I had many conversations about it. We did “delay” some immunizations for some of our children and refused the chicken pox vaccine almost across the board (although our oldest got it). I won’t deny the stranglehold that the pharmaceutical industry has on many facets of life in America, and I would even give some credence to the link between immunizations and autism.

So when we had been in Africa only a few months and two nice doctors showed up in our yard telling us that we needed to have all children under 5 given an oral vaccine for polio because there were some confirmed cases not too far away, I was adamant that WE DID NOT NEED THEM. They’d already been vaccinated in America, and no further intervention was necessary (for our protection or theirs). They were equally adamant that THEY ROUTINELY RE-VACCINATED ALL CHILDREN UNDER FIVE WHENEVER THERE WAS A CONFIRMED CASE OF POLIO IN THE AREA. Seeing that they would not be moved, I summoned Marc and he told me to dig their immunization records out of the file. Done. He showed the nice doctors our paperwork and they retreated.

An hour or so later, a couple more nice doctors came. These were higher up the supervisory chain, I think, and they would not be deterred from their mission. Marc conceded, and three of our littles got some drops in their mouths. I made a weak protest to Marc after they left, but all he said was, “You can’t blame them. Polio IS a really scary disease. I’ve been into Kitale more than you, and I’ve seen several people crippled and laying on the sidewalk begging. That’s all they can do. I’m pretty sure that’s from polio. They have to take it seriously and they don’t want us to be a risk.”

Good point. I suppose in America, we have the luxury of choice. Here, where the disease is not eradicated, they are trying to get to where we are–a total population free from the fear of a crippling disease. I  had not thought of it that way.

Ditto for prescription medication. We were on the path toward total natural remedies–in fact, I’m thinking we actually had arrived there. We haven’t been to the doctor (other than children’s preventative visits) or gotten a prescription for…a long time. I preferred oregano and grapefruit seed extract to any artificial antibiotic and believed they were equally as effective. For coughs, a rub of eucalyptus and thyme mixed with a carrier oil or a homemade cough syrup would do the trick. Immune-boosting supplements kept us healthy enough not to need further interventions, as a rule.

Then…Africa.

Water-borne amoebas stubbornly resisted all oregano and grapefruit seed extract, probiotics, and whatever else I could throw at them. So, in defeat, we talked to the neighborhood chemist, who have us some pills and some oral meds for the littles. We’ve all taken them multiple times, and each time I choose to be thankful for the relief rather than suspect of the chemical processes behind it. Many of our neighbors who routinely get malaria are grateful for cheap anti-malarial drugs–who can blame them? And when our 11 year-old had a bad cough that kept him up for multiple nights, unresponsive to our homemade cough syrup and chest rub, well…I took as a blessing the allergy medicine and cough suppressant from the local chemist.

And despite the evidence against GMOs (with which, by the way, I generally agree), I can see why the locals here use it without any second thought. Where a child reaching the age of five is a monumental milestone (due to disease and, yes, starvation), getting twice the yield (or more) from GMO versus heirloom corn seems pretty appealing. Better to be able to feed your children then potentially have them die of starvation, even if the GMO stuff does give them cancer…or sterilize them for life…or whatever *might* happen from a lifelong exposure to such an altered food source.

We’ve never been the type to make a stand over any “debatable” issues. The Gospel of the Kingdom is where we stand firm, and in all other things we do have an opinion, but unless asked we try to keep it to ourselves. If we do share what we believe, we try not to be dogmatic, but give room for freedom to our Christian brothers and sisters. But in these areas–immunizations, prescriptions drugs, and GMO–I recognize that I did have very firm convictions. And now, while I’m not second-guessing that, I do see how sometimes, we don’t have the luxury of conviction. And unless it involves obedience to Christ, maybe our opinion is, in the final analysis, irrelevant.

Oh, and yes, raw milk is best and people should have freedom to choose between that and the pasteurized variety. Here we have that freedom, but until the day we get our own cow…I’m boiling my milk, thanks.

 

“The Kingdom of God is not about Eating and Drinking…”

I’m not sure why, but a lot around here revolves around food. I keep quoting to the children, “The Kingdom of God is not about eating and drinking but about righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit!” (Romans 14:17), but it seems that no sooner do we finish breakfast than one or more of them is asking what’s for lunch. While around the supper table, how quickly a conversation moves from Dad’s mission that day to how much we would love a McDouble from the Dollar Menu at McDonald’s. *Sigh.*

Previously, I shared some thoughts on what we’ve been eating since coming to Africa. And for some reason, my mind has been ruminating on food again lately. At first, I was happy with how much (comparatively) simpler things were as far as our diet is concerned, and that’s still true. However, we’ve also made some changes that I’m not sure I like so much.

Quite a while ago (still in America) I decided to switch from margarine to butter…just felt it was healthier, for a variety of reasons. Now here, we’ve switched from butter to margarine. Why? Well, to get butter we have to travel all the way to Kitale, which doesn’t happen that frequently. And without refrigeration, I don’t think it’s practical to expect to keep butter fresh for that long between trips. Then there’s cost (butter is expensive and we’re pinching our grocery pennies a little more than we used to). I suppose we could just eliminate butter from our diet, but…that’s hard!

Also, corn…of the GMO variety. It’s plentiful and cheap. Many Africans eat ugali (essentially cornmeal mush) three meals a day. In fact, “it’s not a meal without ugali!” seems to be the general sentiment. So, to be here and NOT eat ugali would really set us apart. Even though we’ll always be mzungus in Africa, there’s some truth to the saying, while in Rome, do as the Romans do. I don’t think there’s ANY non-GMO corn here, so we’re eating what they eat. We certainly don’t eat ugali every day, but a couple of times a week has become the norm. Something else I don’t particularly like, but…what to do?

And then there’s oil. People here don’t use oil, they use “cooking fat,” which actually is vegetable shortening. Another thing I’d streamlined out of our diet in America, in favor of healthier coconut oil. Getting coconut oil here? I don’t think we can…and if it were available, I’m quite sure it would be out of our budget in the amount that we use it. So, for lack of alternatives, we’re back to vegetable shortening.

Another preference of mine was apple cider vinegar over the distilled white variety–many health benefits there. And I was surprised to find that even white vinegar is rare here. What you usually find is a cleverly labeled vinegar substitute, which is just water and acetic acid. Even that is not particularly cheap.

Flour…used to be whole wheat only, and ground fresh at home. Now, white flour. Cheaper and easier. The wheat berries here are so dirty that I haven’t committed time to clean them in addition to the beans, corn and rice that we use on a daily basis. The last wheat bread I made actually tasted dirty, even though the wheat berries were cleaned as well as I was able. Bleck!

So for as many health benefits that I believe there are about living in this part of the world, there are just as many sacrifices that I feel we are making. Trying to find a good balance in this area has been difficult. We’re doing the best we can to be good stewards of our health, and there’s much that is out of our control. But, I figure, God is faithful and we’ll be around on this rock for as long as He wants us to be.  So, it’s all good…

 

 

 

“It’s Just that I was Right in the Middle of my Chapter…”

Mornings are always busy here. We all get up early and, like it or not, seem to hit the ground running. Jobs, breakfast, usually more work, and then schooling. I try to balance the kids’ busy-ness with some little “breaks” built in, but sometimes there’s just too much to do!

When the children first get up, they’re expected to make their beds and get themselves presentable for the day, then have some Bible time or quiet reading time until we are all ready for family devotions. Lately, one of my children in particular has been absorbed in a personal reading book that apparently has been very captivating, so when we’ve asked them to “put the book down” to do the next thing, we’ve been met with a rather sour attitude in response. Unfortunately, the overtone tends to permeate the rest of the morning’s activities. Much gentle encouragement and prayer have been the general prescription, and usually after a while I get a hug and and apology.

Today, more of the same. After trying to get the kids to pitch in and work together to clear the table (while each one wanted to just do their own thing and let everyone else shoulder the burden), I assigned morning jobs and got some flack from said child who lately has been struggling to have a positive attitude about work responsibilities. After a short conversation (in which I didn’t really feel like being kind, but forced myself to anyway), the child said to me, “I’m sorry I had a bad attitude. It’s just that I was right in the middle of a chapter!” To which I could only express my agreement, because I’ve felt similar frustrations in being interrupted. Another opportunity to be reminded of the power of sympathy.

It has seemed to me that this particular child has had a bad attitude about work, and I’ve been trying to address it as such. Yet all the while I was missing the mark with my encouragements because I failed to see the “root cause.” It wasn’t laziness, as I assumed…it was just frustration in not getting to finish something started. Granted, we all must learn to sacrifice our personal preferences and serve others in love…but that is a process, isn’t it? So my lesson this morning is this: just as I need to address the “root causes” in my own spiritual growth in order to see victory, in the same way I need to commit my children to prayer and seek wisdom so that I can identify the root causes that drive their behavior, and address them effectively. Something else that I suppose I knew, but needs a reminder every once in a while.

(And, the “5-minute warning” prior to a change in activity never hurts, either. I tend to forget about that, too…)