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*** I started writing this yesterday and didn’t get it finished and posted before the power went out. It was dark and still all night… the kind of stillness that only comes when the power is out. The last time I was in that kind of night was in the winter storms in Texas. There, I was terrified of what lay ahead. Struggling to stay warm. Pleading with God for safety. In Africa, even the power outage wasn’t that bad. It was strange, because I noticed that when I would stir, not even the dogs were barking. It was just quiet. Anyway, it is morning now. The power has returned. So, here is Saturday’s reflection. ***

Today was a completely different kind of day than I have had since being here. This morning, Cindy and I went to town to do some shopping. I was able to get some souvenirs that I hadn’t gotten yet. And then we came home and had lunch, had quiet, rested, read… Just the two of us. All day. After dinner we sat and talked for awhile.

It was nice and calm and felt very much like a retreat instead of whatever this trip has been.

I don’t know how to describe the difference between this trip and any other that I have ever been on. Aside from the obviously different country. I’ve been on work and witness trips. I’ve been in churches for revivals. I’ve been to camps and college campuses. I don’t think that any of those things prepared me for my time here. Somehow, this was all of those things at one time… with a fair dose of trauma work sprinkled on top.

Roland mentioned while he was here that it was a bit comical that God had to bring an Aussie and an American to Africa to meet. I am so thankful that he did, though. The journey out of shame and into holiness… into love, is a complex one. I knew this was what I needed to be working on, but it was so difficult to be sorting it out with no one I knew personally ahead of me.

As I’ve told a number of people since being here, it is absolutely necessary to trust in the slow work of God. It’s easy to say… but so difficult to do. We live in a time of convenience. Even when things might be difficult, they are at least available. But as I have looked around Kenya (the parts I have been blessed to experience, at least, I have seen deep beauty in the slowness. And there is God.

The journey to wholeness… to holiness isn’t a quick one. I thank God for the moments of blinding clarity, and for his timely reminders of grace and progress. But those come and go… flashes of brilliance. And I am learning, just now, to find the beauty in the slow walk between them. To look for his faithfulness in the mundane. To trust his truth in the everyday process of sloughing off shame and choosing to steep life in love.

Were it possible to freeze time on Friday, I would have. But there is so much life left to live… and love left to give.

I love you, friends.

💜💜💜

I want to write, but I am not feeling like I would be able to do it justice at all. My heart is too full. So, here are some pictures of what we did today, and I will write an update over the weekend with my final Holiness Week recap.

Thursday was heavier than the other days this week. I have been honored by the stories that have been shared and the vulnerability with which several of the students have approached conversations this week.

After chapel this morning, I walked a bit more slowly to lunch. There is this shady drive that leads to where I’m headed that always smells so sweet. I’m not sure what the flowers are that are putting off that smell, but these red ones along that route are quite striking in the Kenyan sunshine.

ANU has so quickly felt like home that I know a piece of my heart will remain here. The people are so gracious and welcoming that I hardly feel like it’s only been a week here, and I working hard to be present and not let the dread of tomorrow’s endings interfere with the living of the wonderful day ahead.

Tomorrow morning we will meet for the last service of Holiness Week. I fully expect that God will show even more than he has every other day. The responses after the service is over, and the continued exploration that has occurred beyond the tabernacle have been the most powerful I have ever experienced. In this revival-esque setting, that might not seem surprising. But it is the genuine wrestling with shame that has been shared in quiet moments that goes so far beyond the emotional response of revivals of which I have been part before.

In a not unsurprising revelation, I have become far more aware of the voices of shame in my own mind as I have listened each day. There is a pattern of grace developing in response that I pray sinks in deeply enough to fly home with me next week.

Today felt longer than other days. It was good, don’t get me wrong. Chapel this morning was amazing. Roland brought the concept of resting in God’s identity of love as God himself demonstrated for us on the seventh day of creation. This is something that is possible today, as we see in Hebrews 4.

Instead of being zealous and exerting and striving diligently for things that we hope and think will secure our identity, we can work to make sure that we can enter God’s rest in obedience to his call.

I would hate to look back forty years from now and realize that I walked all over the desert because I refused to believe I was good enough to enter the promised land…

After chapel we got to have lunch with some old friends for Roland and new friends for me. It is so nice to meet people who feel so familiar in a land where everything is new. Today, as I worked on a plate full of minnows that were so graciously provided for my enjoyment, this was especially appreciated.

After chapel was a meeting with someone who wanted to talk to me. I still find it challenging to be seen as someone who can help other people. Though I’ve always offered people various kinds of assistance, it is challenging to believe I have something to offer without typing something or creating something or doing something for them. But it was a genuinely good talk and I was so thankful to have been able to sit with her and listen. I prayed for her at the end, and then was so blessed by her prayer for not only me, but Sean and the boys, as well. It was amazing to hear her heart for these people whom she doesn’t even know beyond they let me come here and she wanted God to bless them as they waited for my return.

Dinner and more chatting tonight. Contemplating the movement required toward God and all the different spaces in which that motion might be possible. And now back to “real” life for a bit as I try and write a paper about developmental disabilities. It’s a bit of a shock to still be doing such a mundane thing as I am in these extraordinary circumstances, but I am so thankful to be able to maintain my coursework from here so that I stay on track to finish next fall.

I’m off to write quickly and then sleep… hopefully in that order.

I love you, friends!
💜💜💜

I struggled with feeling like I was in the wrong place this morning. I woke up around 6am to a message from home that Ean was struggling. He was tired and had ended up in our bed with Sean because he was scared of having bad dreams. I felt like a failure. What kind of mom am I to be clear around the world while my youngest still needs me at home? I responded to him and prayed for him, and then went back to sleep. That was the best thing I could do from here. But I didn’t like the feeling.

Shame winds its way into our lives in so many ways, doesn’t it? Until we become conscious of its power and impact, I don’t think that we are able to really recognize all of the different areas in which we are subjected to and subject others to the devastating division that comes from shame.

The more aware that I become of shame’s effects, the more I am able to catch it as it is sneaking in and arrest its momentum. This is such an empowering process that enables me live a life that is much fuller than ever before. And not just full, but meaning-full. 

Today held a lot of God moments. Chapel this morning was incredible. Reading back through stories that I have known my whole life with the new lenses that I am gaining and then the context in which they were written feels like hearing all new stories. It is powerful to find all of the different examples of being set free for the sake of freedom into a new life.

Also exciting, today, was the dedication of the new keyboard that was brought yesterday. Thanks to those who donated to this need, we have been able to get it addressed in time to make an impact this week!

It was a joy to not only get to coordinate this effort, but to see the coming together of so many people from so many different areas of my life in support of it. You all are such a gift to me, and I am thankful for you.

Tonight, dinner held so much more than just food to feed my body. Being in this small community of people who are so earnestly seeking God, especially when it is difficult to do so is completely refreshing. The people here have become quite dear to my heart already, and I especially cherish my time with Roland and Cindy. I am honored to be able to sit and learn from these two and never feel as if I am less for not already knowing the answers to questions. 

Another nighttime will quickly turn to another morning. The speed of life is slower here, but the rhythms are the same. 

I love you, friends!
💜💜💜

Where on earth did Monday go?!? This morning as we prepared for the opening chapel of Holiness Week here on ANU’s campus, I had some time to read and pray before heading over. And then service… Roland sharing his story with us as the setup for the rest of the week was such an incredible honor. I cannot imagine many people who would not be able to hear in his story some part of their own. 

After the service, I had the privilege of praying with a young lady at the altar. We talked about shame and how the enemy likes to keep reminding us of things that we have done wrong in the past. And then we talked about how God’s loving voice would not do that. We prayed over her, and it was incredible to see her spirits lift as she was finally coming to believe that the shame did not hold her captive and that there is hope beyond it. This sweet sister joined us for lunch, and we were so blessed to get to know her more and hear her story.

It was not just her, though, reports are that others were having these same important conversations around campus this afternoon. I am so hoping that the truths Roland spoke this morning resonate in hearts tonight and that they come ready to encounter God tomorrow morning. 

There is much freedom for freedom’s sake to be found in allowing God to be God and love to be enough.

This afternoon, I got to go on an adventure. Aruté (I’m not positive how to spell his name, but he was amazing) took me to Nairobi, where we were able to purchase the new digital piano that several generous friends sent funds for! We brought it back to the tabernacle, where it was excitedly received. We hope for it to be set up and ready for tomorrow’s service.

I have stopped questioning why I am here. God has made it clear that there is much to learn and great work to be done within me, if nothing else. And I am praying that I can make a difference somehow. If nothing else, I speak to others the same way I speak to myself now… and love continually proves to be enough. 

On to chapel day two tomorrow! Thank you so much for all of your prayers and kind messages. They definitely are an encouragement as I survive a bit of homesickness heading into a week away from there. I’m thankful for family of all sorts holding down all the forts and for this budding branch of the family tree being here with me. It is the gift of God for my life right now.

I love you all!!!
💜💜💜

Sunday has ended here. It was a quiet day, containing only church and lunch. This morning, there was time for silent prayer and reflection before the service. The quiet here is different than at home. Beyond just not having children around me (which is strange, indeed), the noises that do occur in times of solitude seem more natural. Insect sounds, birds, dogs barking… Off in the distance, there may be talking and laughter, sometimes music from various directions. But it contributes to a reflection and communion with God that is more difficult to find in the rush of life back home.

Church this morning was an incredible experience. I have had the pleasure of worshipping with international congregations before, but this was still a much different time. In the songs that I didn’t understand, God’s presence was very apparent. And the message… Oh, the message. While there were many parts that were impactful and well-stated, the main thing that I took was a statement the speaker made toward the end.

“There is a cost to obedience. But if you are with God, the benefits are everlasting.”

You’d have a hard time convincing me that God didn’t tap me on my shoulder and make sure I was paying attention right then. What a powerful truth. There IS a cost to obedience. Nothing wishy-washy there. It’s not new information. But I certainly can sense the weight of it in a whole different way here in Kenya.

After service was a lunch full of deep conversations and life-giving community. I do not have a way to convey how fulfilling it is to be able to sit with those who have done deep work and learn from them. To be allowed the privilege of even just listening is incredible. To be gifted with the ability to question and dig into my own understanding and journey is something that I couldn’t have even dreamed of.

Returning home late in the afternoon, I rested. I was tired. And instead of pushing through to try and do something halfway that needed more attention than I could give, I laid down and slept. With contemplative music playing, I would stir and hear something meaningful, breathe a prayer and fall back asleep. It was the most restful nap I have had in a very long time. 

The late evening was spent in solitude. Preparing for the coming week, I have been physically writing in a prayer journal. It is a practice that I have not done with any regularity before and I find it interesting to see how the conversation flows from earth to heaven and back again on paper. 

Tomorrow starts Holiness Week services here. From the sounds of it, this will be a different kind of week than anyone here has ever experienced. Please be in prayer with us that God’s work will be accomplished and the insidious spirit of shame will be broken in this place. Pray for Roland as he brings his story and shares how God has led him to understand the impact shame has on our lives. Pray for Cindy as she moves in these relationships that have been forged over years of service. Pray that hearts will be receptive and that God will be present. 

Good night from all the way around the world…
I love you, friends. 
💜💜💜

And suddenly, another day was over as quickly as it began.

Today was quite the experience. We began at Nairobi National Park before the sun was up, wanting to make sure that we got to see the animals before they sought shelter in the heat of the day. This turned out to be a very good decision.

Click here to see the pictures!

Throughout the time in the park, I had the recurring thought that it was incredible to see all of these different kinds of animals together in one place. Previously, the closest I had come to anything like this was various zoos and nature preserves in the US. There is no comparison. If you want to really get a sense of how small you are and how much more important the balance of community is… come to Kenya.

This place certainly has a way of putting things into a new perspective. I suppose that might be true anytime you travel to a place that is completely beyond your normal borders. But for me, Kenya will always be the place that expanded my horizons.

Tonight, I’m processing things that have been happening. No trip is without bumps, I’m sure. Neither has this one been. I am beyond blessed, however, to be in a place where the mess does not overwhelm the message.

Life is like Nairobi National Park was. There are plenty of beautiful things to see… but it’s not without heaps of dung scattered around. I think my takeaway today is learning to make avoiding the piles look like a dance instead of stumbling around and ultimately falling into the poop.

Cindy played this song the other night, and it’s been running through my head ever since. It was brand new to me, but it is incredible. And I think it would be a great song for slow dancing past the piles in the arms of a loving God.

Please come, friends.

I love you!!!
💜💜💜

Day three begins early. After another evening of talking around the table, and then phone calls to yesterday to check in at home, we are up before the sun for safari day! 

I am so overwhelmed with God’s presence here. In the deep conversations with those who have quickly become dear to my heart, I experience an indescribable increase in my understanding of who God is and how much he loves me. 

Being in a place that I’ve never been before and having it feel so much like home is strange. Never in a million years would I have dreamed that I would be somewhere like this. And now I can’t imagine it will be the only time. It would break my heart to never return. 

I’m off to see the wild while most of you sleep!

I love you, friends!

💜💜💜

There is so much happening so quickly that my brain is struggling to pick out any one thing to focus on and write about. It is strange, and yet quite refreshing, to be in a place with like-minded people. Finding a place at a table where life and love and the confluence of the two are being discussed in healing ways is so life-giving.

Last night, there was a group of six of us sitting and eating and sharing. Around that table, there were five different countries represented, all with different stories of how they have encountered evil… and how God is at work. We sat and talked for hours, sharing life and prodding thoughts progressively heavenward. It was incredible. I didn’t know most of these people before today, but in so many ways, this is family.

A year ago today, I posted on Facebook that I was preparing… I was going to a meeting to which I had been invited, but it very much felt dangerous. The contribution that I had to make was not popular or desirable. It did not feel safe to speak, and yet I didn’t feel like I could stay silent. In many ways, this night felt like a nail in the coffin… that it was the beginning of the end.

And I suppose it was.

It was the beginning of the end of doubting. It was the beginning of the end of fear. It was the beginning of the end of insecurity. It was the beginning of the end of sitting in the belly of the fish and wishing to see the sun.

Just because fish guts were normal… even having become comfortable because of how long I had been sitting there, I feel like I was doing all I could to hide how messy I was from being there.  I put on makeup not for the joy of doing it, but as a way to hide how unworthy I felt to be in the spaces where God was leading.

I was still hiding from who I had been created and called to be.

This morning, I got up and got ready for the day. No makeup was involved. I skipped it for many reasons (heat, sweat, exhaustion…) not the least of which was that it isn’t needed here. Yesterday I met a few people, but this was the real beginning of the time here and the work that was being done, and I couldn’t decide what to wear. I finally landed on identifying with the call that brought me here.

The air here is thinner. Sometimes it’s harder to breathe. But this morning, I am thankful for the cool air. I’m blessed to be in a space where God is at work. And I am challenged to boldly step into the role that he has for me on that journey, bare-faced and brave.