It’s been a whirlwind month! We lost our 36-year-old parrot, Sylvester, which was devastating by itself but losing him in the middle of final packing for our yearly month in Kenya was really difficult. (I have to admit I forgot quite a few important items because of my lack of concentration.) We have been moving so fast that there has been little time to process we are actually here in Kenya; 1 week and already 3 towns.
Today, I awoke in my own sweet home in Bungoma. The sounds of worship from the Bible School fill the yet-dark morning and I lay here in awe of the Father who chose to use me in this way. I don’t do much while I’m here…a little teaching, a little preaching; not like the team that just left after re-painting the Bible School and building Margaret real live cabinets for her kitchen! We visit other missionaries during the day, but come home each night to a comfortable dinner and relaxing evenings with our Kenyan brother and sister.
But, I know it’s where I am to be. The Lord planted this place in my very core as a child and now in the heart of my husband. It is truly a home to us. We live life with the people here. We know the bible students; they come over and hang with us to share in the Word. Young and old working through living in this world, knowing we are from another. We wave at the kids coming and going past our window to pre-school. We have watched 15 of the kids at the Children’s Home grow from little boys to high school graduates and rejoice as more are welcomed in.
It’s different. The food is unique albeit tasty. Bottled water is used for everything, even the daily habits like brushing your teeth or making tea. Routines are shattered and though I will daily teach at the school it is admittedly more laid back in Africa. We are also spoiled. Hannah & Margaret do most of the cooking, cleaning and washing, though I have my small chores, as any eldest sister!
So, though I am used to a task-filled day when I am at home in the U.S., I find God has brought me here (at least this year) to regroup from a crazy change-filled year. Time to write. Time to ponder. Time for conversations with Papa planning our upcoming season. It’s a deep- breath moment. Sometimes we just need those.
Deb Killian
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