Fragile

I wasn’t able to go to the funeral. I’ll be in Kijabe soon but not soon enough. I thought about not going to work after finding out that my aunt had passed away, but one of the best things about working as a nanny is that holding babies can be therapeutic.

I’m tired of writing about grief. It hurts. I’m tired of stressing about what’s going to happen next. My dad left me a voice message last week telling me to call home and my first thought was, “great what happened now?”

Life is fragile so very, very fragile.

My first clear memory of Aunt Martha was after my twin sister died suddenly. She sent my cousin and me American Girl paper dolls and cookbooks. Mine was Molly and Amanda got Kirsten. For an eight year old, it was such an appropriate gift. A thoughtful way of saying, “I know things are tough for you right now, but I care.” That’s the kind of person Aunt Martha was.

She ran a guest house on the coast of Mombassa. My friend and I had planned to spend a long weekend at her house in June. We’d been messaging back and forth confirming dates and talking through travel options.

It still hasn’t completely hit me that Aunt Martha won’t been there when I get to Kenya next month. I know she is in a better place, but selfishly I still want her here. She touched so many live, brought so much joy, and was an inspiration to me and to so many other people.

In This Moment

I turned the corner to fields of green tucked around the curves of one of my favorite back roads. I wanted to stop and take a picture but instead decided to keep driving with the radio turned up just enjoying the moment.

Heading back to the city it felt good to soak in the open spaces and the freeing feeling of being the only person on the road. “This is it,” I thought, the perfect combination of living in the city but not living too far away from family and the beauty of peaceful scenery. In moments like that I sometimes think back to a college chapel service. The speaker spoke from Psalms 73 emphasizing the phrase “The nearness of God is my good.”

“As you go through life take time to lean your head against the glass -whether that be the glass of an airplane window or a window in your home- and take a minute to remember the phrase ‘the nearness of God is my good.’” His words stuck with me. I guess for the idea that no matter what is swirling around you in life whether it be success or tragedy remain near to God.

It was easy to feel near to the presence of God on that drive last week. Today I was desperate for His nearness for an entirely different reason after receiving a call saying that my aunt Martha who lives in Kenya is deathly sick. To be honest, I feel numb. It doesn’t make sense. It came on so fast. The doctors are saying it is septicemia and there is not much they can do for her. She on a respirator thousands of miles away. There is nothing I can do but pray. I feel helpless. I feel shocked, but I also feel hope knowing that I pray to a powerful God who is capable anything. It’s harder to trust in the difficult times. It’s so easy to get angry and ask why because honestly it really just doesn’t make sense, but even in these moments (especially in these moments) I still cling to the truth- the nearness of God is my good. I will make the Lord my God my refuge.

Please Send Me to Africa…

It’s a little bit scary seeing a dream come together. Part of me is so excited it feels like a dream and the other side of me is scared out of my mind wondering if everything is really going to work out.

I’m excited about moving to Kenya and working at the Riziki Children’s Home. I can’t wait to begin working with Kenyans who are building into their communities and tackling tough problems. I don’t want to be the pushy American who thinks they have all the answers. I want to support the work that is already going on. I want to learn. I want to help where I can and be a part of something bigger than myself.

The plane tickets are purchased which is so exciting. This trip is something I have wanted to do for so long. Now it is finally starting to feel real, and that is an incredible feeling. I get to travel on the way out with one of my best friends who is coming out for a short term trip to also work at the orphanage. My friend has always wanted to do an overseas mission trip, and it’s been such a pleasure doing trip planning together. Well, except for the shots which are scheduled for a week from next Friday. That part I’m not looking forward to, but I told my friend that if she gets me through the shots. I’ll get her through customs and airport security.

So we’re going to Kenya with an eleven day stop in Europe. I’m so blessed to have friends who are willing to host my friend and me. If everything goes right we will be able to spend time in London, France, Scotland, Northern Ireland, Ireland, and possibly Germany. Even writing that sentence scares me a bit because at this point I don’t really know how I am going to pay for everything. But this is such a once in a lifetime experience, so I’m just praying that everything works out.

I’m scared because I’m the type of person who likes to have everything planned out. I budget, I write lists, I want every detail set before I take the first step, but at this point I can’t have that. It’s a one day at a time thing. Planning what I can but learning to let go at the same time which is something I’m not very good at.

So…. I especially appreciate prayers right now. Prayers for wisdom with trip planning. Prayers for finances, prayers for time management and prayer for just a sense of peace because so many times I just don’t have a clue what I’m doing.

But, as I think about going to Africa for 6 months to a year, my heart feels truly happy something I haven’t felt in a long, long time. I feel like in away I am returning home. It’s where I grew up, it’s where I feel comfortable and welcome. As they say, “you can take the girl out of Africa, but you can’t take Africa out of the girl.” I know I’m American, but a piece of me still feels very at home in Africa. Growing up, the song Please Don’t Send Me to Africa had it’s popular streak to the point of being annoying. In the song the songwriter pleads with God to honor his one request and never send him to the continent of Africa. My siblings and I wrote our own version of the song, “please send me to Africa I don’t think I have what it takes to live in suburban America I miss my spiders and snakes.”

Lasting Memories

Love birds

 

Last Thursday I headed to Florida, but it wasn’t a happy spring break trip to Florida it was for my grandma’s funeral. I was put in charge of collecting pictures for the photo board display at the service and also creating a background slide show to run during the visitation.

Grandma and her camera

I love pictures especially old black and whites and also those adorable cute kid pictures, so I spent several hours pouring over my grandma’s photo collection. I know I inherited some of my love for pictures from my Grandma Pontier. She had books and books of neatly organized and labeled albums lined up on shelves in her bedroom. Every grandchild has a book stuffed with baby pictures and almost every out of state trip earned a book as well. My pictures are nowhere near as organized as Grandma’s, but I’ve massed quite a collection myself.

Due to a limited amount of time before the funeral, I didn’t finished the slideshow to my satisfaction, so on the 13 hour car ride home I decided to finish it. When I think of my grandma, her love for pictures is one thing that I am very thankful for. The memories she captured on film I’m sure will continue to touch generations for years to come.

Meet me in St Louis, Louis

Yesterday I got my first parking ticket so in I way I feel like I am an official city resident now. Yes, I’d read the no parking on the first Monday, third Thursday, and second Friday after a full moon signs but as a creature of habit I tend to park in relatively the same place everyday and forget which spots should be avoided on which days. Thankfully, parking my car in the path of the street sweeper was only a ten dollar fine and should help me remember to take those signs more seriously in the future.

So far, I love the historic city of St Louis. My friend describes it as many different neighborhoods connected together with the city spreading out instead of up as it does with skyscrapers in many other cities. I’m not a fan of the traffic though. Living on the south end of the city is nice and definitely has much more of a neighborhood feel, but when I drive toward downtown for work the five lanes of traffic still up my stress levels. It’s fun being able to see the arch as I drive toward the city, but I have to focus so much on making sure I can get over in time to catch my exit that I don’t really have the chance to enjoy the view.

The houses are beautiful. Mostly slim brick row houses with a quaint almost European charm. The city and neighborhood parks are charming as well and help take away the harsh concrete jungle effect that others cities have.

 

People love their pets here. There always seems to be someone out walking their dog. I know people all over the country love their pets, but in a city having a pet (especially a dog) has almost a different purpose. Pets are a social door. Walking a dog in the park is a safe way to communicate with a stranger without getting too close. Pets allow for friendly interactions between strangers without anyone coming across as a creeper.

I’ve also noticed that St Louis loves four way stops. It seems like when not on the interstate those red signs pop up all over the place. Four way, three way, on coming traffic has the right of way. I’m starting to get the hang of it mostly and have only gotten honked at a couple of times.

Overall, I love it here. One of my favorite things about living in the city again is that people ask you what you do for a living instead of who are you dating. It’s also been refreshing to be around different ethnic groups and to hear a foreign language being spoken at the grocery store. I love the diversity, the culture, the chance to be around intertwining worlds. St Louis has a lot of beauty, and I’m glad I get to call it home for the next few months.

The Absence of your Presence

A tree planted in Kenya in memory of Alice Mbugua

Today marked a year. A year without someone I truly cared about, a year wishing she was still here while knowing that it is impossible to go back. I remember last year right before Valentine’s Day. I was driving down the road and started thinking about the single women I knew whose lives I admired. Alice’s name was the first name to pop into my head. She always seemed willing to try new things. She brought a sense of joy and an honest love for humanity with her where ever she went. I don’t ever remember hearing her complain about life. She just experiencing life adding a special charm and polish where ever she went. As I was driving that week of Valentine’s day, I remember thinking that I should email Alice just to let her know how much I appreciated her and how she lived each day. I never sent that email. The following Sunday a sudden cerebral hemorrhage took her life.

Today I did my best to cook Kenyan food something we used to enjoy doing together. But, as I attempted sukuma wikie and chapattis, I was reminded just how much I still don’t know. I used to help cut up the ingredients, roll out dough, and just help where needed. Alice was the mastermind who made it all come together. This time it was just me.

Food has a way of being a comfortable familiar even when it doesn’t come out exactly like you hoped it would. But, at the end of the day my attempt was more about honoring a memory then it was about the actual food, and in that sense the endeavor was successful. Alice, I still miss you. Even though you are in a place of perfect happiness the world still feels the absence of your beautiful presence.

My Cup Runs Over

It’s the little things that really seem to make life matter. A light dusting of snow falling the day before my birthday, finding a hidden koala bear while geocaching with friends, making it safely through St Louis traffic. That’s when I feel closest to God. I’m not going to lie. I doubt more than I should. I often assume the worst is bound to happen and am usually shocked when everything works out just fine. I’m the queen of wondering what if I get lost, what if I got the time wrong, what if I wrote down the wrong number? Wasted energy on phantom troubles, and yet God still sees me through.

Maybe it’s silly but being a January baby I’ve always felt that having snow on my birthday is like getting a birthday present from God. This year I’d already rationalized that it was too warm for snow talking myself out of getting my hopes up… and then it snowed. A light, soft snow just enough to cover the ground and then it melted away.

I hadn’t expected much for my birthday this year. I was in the processes of packing for a move and just didn’t have the energy or inspiration to plan anything, but God took care of that too. To start out the week my friend Katie threw me a party complete with roses, cupcakes, and people I love. On Monday, my brothers took me to a movie and while the movie I was dying to see ending up being a huge disappointment, it felt good knowing that my brothers loved me enough to sit through a movie they both hated. We laughed about it as soon as the credits started to roll.

Tuesday included a goodbye/birthday celebration with two amazing friends, and as we ate at Chick-fil-a, took pictures at my friend’s photography studio, and went goecaching we asked each other why we waited until I was leaving to all hangout together. The night ended perfectly when we stopped at Starbucks and the barista suggest Chai as the drink of choice for such a chilly night. My favorite drink, of course, but my friends tried it as well which made my heart happy.

On Wednesday (my actual birthday) I celebrated with my family with a French silk pie and my favorite dish beef subgum. Saturday ended out the week. Packing was stressful, but I finally fit my life into the back of my Nissan Stanza Wagon and headed to St Louis where my friends took me out to Friday’s for a birthday supper. I felt so full, so blessed, so loved. I can’t get over how many incredible people I have in my life which, after surviving a very hard year, feels so good.

Today was another day of celebration. After being in St Louis for less than two weeks God provided an amazing job for me as a nanny, and my plans to go to Kenya at the end of May have been finalized! (More on that to come) With everything falling into place I almost feel like I’m walking in a dream. God has been so good to me providing just when I was tempted to give up and surrounding me with some of the most amazing people. To celebrate my friend Tara and her husband Zach and I headed to the St Louis loop to enjoy dinner at Cheese-ology and then had rootbeer floats at Fitz’s.

As Psalms 73:28 says, “The nearness of God is my good; I have made the Lord God my refuge, that I may tell of all your works.” As summed up by the picture below. My cup truly runs over.

My cup runs over- rootbeer floats at Fitz’s