Our African Home

Darlene and I have 3 homes -- not as many as some candidates, but enough for us.  One is a promised home, a place in God's eternal family.  And we also feel at home in the USA, in California, where old friends and familiar places are.  And of course Nairobi, with street kids and the MITS Team.  From 1998 to 2002 we stayed in Eastleigh, down the street from our street kids' center, in an apartment building that slowly became an almost totally Somali enclave.  Down our stairs and the next building over was a camel butchery. When they butchered a camel, they put the head in the doorway so people could see how fresh the meat was.  After a few days the flies and the warm sun made it a little less appetizing.  It was great to be close to the street kids and the Team in Eastleigh; many was the time Team members came in the middle of the night to borrow our car to take an injured street kid to the hospital.  They would usually clean it up good, but eventually a number of blood stains became part of the car.  

Then  in September 2002 we moved out to Kamulu, where we had built a center for street girls on an acre that we owned.  We added a room in the girls' center and lived there until two weeks ago.  It was also great being with the girls -- Kamulu has fresh air, we came to know the Drumvale Farmers Cooperative and received rights to the land that MITS now uses for ministry and education and skills training and the farm.  And the girls came over at all hours -- with a cut finger needing a bandaid and antibiotic, with a headache, or a heartache, with something the girls' leaders had trouble handling, with a desire to earn a little bit of money.  

Two weeks ago we moved into a house we have built on another acre that we own.  Instead of the two rooms at the girls, we now have a spacious bathroom, a bedroom, a very spacious combo kitchen, dining and living room, and two guest bedrooms (1,799 square feet, counting the garage).  And we have planted bananas, hibiscus, roses, mango and avocado and orange and mulberry trees, passion fruit and cape honeysuckle and other climbers.  We have a garage for the car (our 1989 Toyota), which we had repainted last week, and on the roof of the garage is a patio for sunset and star watching and coffee-drinking.  And it's quiet and private, a real change in our lives.  We felt a desire for this and are glad to have this change (maybe it's from being 65 and getting social security -- how much does that change a person?).  

It's a sign that we are even closer to fulfilling our desire to have the Kenyan Team take over all the responsibilities of the ministry -- administration, student affairs, loving the kids, teaching, first aid, skills training, developing new team members, holding close together in a pleasant working relationship -- all those things that make the ministry work.

We are far from a perfect ministry, maybe even far from a good one.  We need more work on our farm -- to get to zero-tilling our irrigation areas, to intensify our production, to get a full crop rotation program going.  We need more work on our businesses -- to get the cafe running again, to learn how to market our sewing and wood products in a continuous manner, to set up a more professional salon, and so on. 

Our best works are the Eastleigh ministry on the streets, the literacy education, production in sewing and woodworking, development of the infrastructure in buildings and the staff, and the congregation that meets at our learning center.  And maybe the best of all is seen in the morale and attitude and quality of the kids who have come from the streets and live at Kamulu -- our Team is doing a truly amazing work with them.  We see the signs of God's work among us. 

Anyway, Darlene and I are happy with this house.  My "office" is now a corner of the living room, and Darlene has her desk in the opposite corner, looking into the back yard.  And over in the kitchen corner sits a large bunch of Kampala bananas, which was taken off one of our many banana trees here at Kamulu.  And yesterday Joseph Kamau (ask me to tell you his story some day, and don't be squeamish) asked me to baptize him in the Indian Ocean at Malindi on our trip to the Coast.  And he said he won't be Kamau any more -- he wants his new name from God -- call me Joseph, he says.  So I will.

peace and joy, charles

A Fuller Tribute

As with most other folk, we have had lots of people in our lives. Many of those people have left tracks in our hearts, memories and pictures in the mind. Walt Fuller left a picture of Daybreak Camp, standing beside the old blue car with the flag painted on it. He came as representative of Pepperdine University to spend a week at camp with us as a counselor. What great times we had at camp with kids and teens. We always used teenagers as counselors in the youth camps, with an occasional token university student. Then Walt and Jenny married and came to Redwood City to live, and we saw their love and enjoyed them, Walt comfortable and Jenny purposeful. The years passed, and Kelly, Casey and Kristi grew, captivating and strong. When Simi Church of Christ sponsored us in street ministry, they were there. The last one we have seen is Kelly; she was at Pepperdine, and it was before her marriage. We are better for knowing all of them. I'd like to give a fuller tribute, but I never have the words to say the joy of the tracks left in our lives by friends.

Hollyhock Memories

Likely there are lots of people who do not know what a hollyhock is. But we grew them in Oklahoma. I remember that they were Mom's favorite flowers. Our old clapboard house wasn't much to look at, surrounded by farm land and a chicken house on one side, and a brooder house for baby chicks on the other, with a woodpile in between for the woodburning stove. The cellar was behind the house, a place where Mom stored canned goods and where we feared to go when the tornadoes came, because there might be scorpions or snakes down there. An old chinaberry sat determinedly near the front porch. Mom had tried to cut it out and my brother and I helped because Dad's favorite switching stick was a limber green limb from that tree.

Mom planted hollyhocks all across the front of the house and the sides - yellow and pink and white and something nearly red. I had no idea it would create such a vivid and lasting memory for me. What I seem to remember best from my childhood are the things my mother loved.

She loved the poor family down the road, the Ballards who lived in a rented house and had even less than we did.
She loved the church and worked hard for her kindergarten class - for 23 years.
She loved every hollyhock.

Today I was rereading the little jewel Safed the Sage by William Barton. He also loved hollyhocks and planted them each place where he lived, moving about now and then as preachers often did. Hollyhocks I Transplanted is a great little treatise on suffering in God's plan. And his story in which spring has come because you can anticipate it in the seeds from the mail order store is a lifter of the spirit. Reading his book made me think of Mom again. I often go for months without strong memories of Mom, but when I do remember I feel the pain of losing her. I'm 7 years older than she was when she died. I have no regrets, for her life was good, even with the suffering. But I do wish she had been given more time with my daughter, for I treasured the moments I saw them together.

Ah, well, as Safed says, now the hollyhocks rest secure in their bed hard by the house of God.

Rest in peace, charles

Things Go Wrong

Things go wrong even on wonderful days. Yesterday the Team of Made in the Streets went to the Eastleigh slum to visit the "bases" where street kids sleep. It's a great time that kids who sleep on the streets really enjoy; they experience the care the Team has for them. And those of us who stayed at Kamulu with the street kids who are now our students also had a great time, experiencing once again what a great group of kids we have now. Reading books and playing games and sharing lunch and writing letters -- it's all a great experience.

And our construction projects are coming along well. Darlene and I are building our own home on a piece of land we own near the girls' center; the trusses and stringers went up yesterday. And the John Connor Brown Memorial Training Facility, where we will teach hairdressing and cooking, is nearing completion. There are so many good things in our lives and ministry.

But things still go wrong. We have been getting ready for the Conejo Valley Church in Thousand Oaks, CA, to visit, and they arrived last night. We had a toilet to repair in the women's guest quarters, and John Wambu and I turned off the water to the girls' center and removed the toilet so he could repair it. And of course I misplaced my glasses -- this happens every day (I think it's a sign of my age), and I went into the guest quarters to look for them. Now the kids had finished lunch and were doing some work on the farm, watering banana trees and pulling weeds and such, and they were working behind the girls' center. Of course no one admitted turning on the water valve at the back of the compound, but when I walked into the guest quarters, it was a flood, and water was spurting out of the open pipe where the toilet had been. I had to hold the end of the pipe, and I felt like the Dutch boy as I yelled at the kids outside. No one seemed to know where the valve was, and one of the farm workers ran all the way to the boys' center to turn off the water from the main tanks. Good thing I have a cell phone; I called John, and he came back from working on the toilet (with his one leg!) and turned it off.

Then I was called out by Joel and a couple of the church members. Samuel Mburu, a member of the church who was taught in World Bible School, had fallen off a donkey, who got spooked and turned the cart over, which crushed Samuel's leg; The bone above the ankle was sticking out. Joel took our car and I gave him some money to rush Samuel to the hospital. Upon getting there, Samuel and Joel and the family waited for hours while getting the runaround. Of course the national hospital is always very busy. Samuel was in great pain, but was finally tended to in the middle of the night.

We have been beautifying some of the property, and we have 4 of our older boys painting at the boys' center. They have used up 40 liters of white paint and 8 liters of cream. Darlene and I went up to the boys' center to lock up the guest quarters there, where we had painted the bathroom and touched up the room and door. The place looks great. But it started raining, and it's about half a mile home. We were soaked when we got home, but it's not so bad, since we love the rain, and at this time of year, the rain is welcome.

But that also meant we didn't get to go over to see Susie, a 9 year old whose birthday was yesterday. We had a present and some goodies to eat for her, but the rain prevented it. She was disappointed.

So bad things happen on good days. It is part of the life that God has given us. We are to remember that it is not this life that is permanent. We are not to get too comfortable in this world, but to remember that this world is not our home. Bad things happen on good days to remind us that our trust is in the unseen, the God who sees us.

Can we learn to rejoice even as the bad things are happening?

Who are these kids? Everybody in Nairobi thinks they know what street kids look like, and they believe the kids cannot change, but are menaces, thieves, liars, trouble...it is amazing how well they clean up. We spent the day today with a group who came off the streets, some as late as this year. We went to the movie at Village Market, an upscale shopping center near the American Embassy and the United Nations complex.

In the past few weeks, Darlene and Philip Kariuki have read the Chronicles of Narnia to all the kids, and some of our Team members have read them. We told them that everyone who read The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe and Prince Caspian in the past two months would be treated to the movie. Seven of the Team members read them, and five went to the movie. Ben Mwami had to go and pick up 100 baby chicks today, so he couldn't go (we'll get him there later). And Joel will go next week with the moms and the Team members at Eastleigh. 52 of us went today.

The theater gives away a soda, a hot dog and popcorn on Mondays with regular admission price, and the kids loved that. Since Mercy doesn't eat oil, they gave her a Mars bar instead of a hot dog, and she gave her popcorn away. Darlene told Philip she thought he has been doing a great job as a teacher and leader, so she gave him all her food. I told Scholastica that I appreciate her diligence as a student and gave her my hot dog, then I gave Jackton my soda and congratulated him on good work in the sewing plant, and I gave my popcorn to Ken Wabungu, who has been a great young person at Kamulu.

And during the movie they were so quiet, truly enjoying "seeing" the book they have read. They laughed at Reepicheep, and they reacted to the first roar of Aslan. And their behavior was exemplary; they even carried their trash out of the theater to the bins outside. I can't believe how great it is to be out somewhere with a 45-member youth group like this!!! Absolutely amazing and marvelous! My heart's desire is to know these kids all their lives, just like I want to be in the granddaughter's lives for always.

Thanks, Jesus, for the kindness you show me.

How Quickly We Forget

Those of us involved in street ministry are doing this work, not because of the pay, but because we care about children and teenagers who have no choice but to sleep in alleyways and under kiosks. We have walked the streets of Eastleigh and the warren of one-room shacks in Mathare Valley, and we have talked with the kids whose stories break our hearts. There is Caro, who was beaten unmercifully by her mother's boyfriend, and so she fled to the streets. There is Ken, whose Dad had died, who watched his uncle cut up his grandfather in a disputer over the farm -- he was unable to concentrate in school and there was no food, so he left and went to the streets. There is Titus, who at 11 was always in a stupor from huffing glue, but who always wanted to please.

But how quickly we forget. Many of us now stay at the Kamulu Centre, where we house the street kids who have come off the streets to us, ones whom we believe God has called to himself. They are clean and dressed, and we feed them and each one has a bed of his/her own, and they love the English and Bible and Math classes, and some of them are training for the Primary Education 8th Grade Exam in December, and our life together is great. And so we forget what it is like on the streets.

So Francis Mbuvi, our administrator, decided that the Team should return to the streets. Every other Friday almost all the Team will spend the day in Eastleigh, going to Bases and visiting with the kids and youth. Last Friday they went, while Darlene and Francis taught the kids at Kamulu. Ben Mwami reported, "I haven't been back to the streets since our training two years ago. It was so good to be reminded. And as we crossed a street, we say a baby that had been left out and run over by a car. That baby didn't have a chance, but our kids here at Kamulu have a chance." Abraham, who is usually quiet in our meetings, spoke up twice as they talked about the experience. Robin reported that when he goes into Eastleigh to visit his parents, he usually avoids going by the bases because it is so uncomfortable for him. But he was glad that Friday he went, and many of the kids at the bases said, "Why haven't you come back? Are you avoiding us?"

How quickly we forget the needs that surround us, because we can go and get our lattes and have outings with our kids and enjoy the good life that prosperity brings. Is today a day to remember, and to embrace the uncomfortable?

Keep remembering...and peace to you...charles

Days of Stress

We have always lived with stress. Some of it is good, for it helps us be focused and alert. But there has always been stress that hurts the heart and the soul, the kind that makes us be unkind to those we love and eventually damages our bodies.

My stress used to be about what others thought of me, or about getting my work done satisfactorily. Nowadays it most often has to do with computers and the internet. When you are using a computer, a cell phone, a local internet service, and the world wide web -- there are many things that can go wrong. I often start thinking it is me, or that the world is arrayed against me, and stress levels go up.

With me that's especially bad, because sugar levels go up with the stress. And my stress levels affect Darlene as well.

So...what to do? Breathe deeply, remember that everybody out there wants it to work well not just me, thing of good things, mentally relax my body and feelings -- lots of good things to try, but it isn't easy. I know a couple of preachers who have never gotten involved with computers; they don't have this stress. That's one answer, but the days of cell phones and the internet have made life so much better for communication and for feeling as if we are in touch.

What do you do when stress levels get too high? Write me at crc@swiftkenya.com if you have found a good answer when sitting at the computer!

have a stress-free day,
charles