May Day and More

Habari Zenu!
Last time I mentioned that I was frustrated that not everything was sinking in. But I did not do a very good job telling my favorite part of the last few weeks, which is surprise surprise, the opposite—when it does sink in. When they are going around singing the continent song, knowing where they are. When Judy tells me a story as we sit by the pond, and after my gullible self believes her, she says, “that part I was just using my imagination, isn’t it?” When Robert asks me to explain something again because he didn’t understand, instead of just pretending everything was OK. When Frederick jumped up and down with joy when he guessed the closest amount of footsteps measured the perimeter of the field—I really am so impressed with everyone and I am kind of sad that they have to go back to regular school now, it was such fun.

Yesterday was May Day, which is also a Kenyan holiday (Moi Day, the second president) and Labor Day. We wanted to have a fun school day. On May Day when I was little, we used to put flowers on people’s doorsteps and ring the doorbell and hide in the bushes! So that is what we decided to do. We made a whole bunch of bouquets, and went around to everyone’s house and knocked and yelled, “Hodi!” which is what you say upon your arrival at someone’s house. Then we left the flowers and ran away. Then we decided to go for a swim in the pond. The nice part about swimming is that it takes no preparation, we just decide to go, jump in with whatever clothes we’re wearing, then dry off in the sun. It was the best class we ever had. We fought with swords made of reeds, practiced our floating, even had a math lesson as we sat around half in the water. They’ve never paid such great attention. We had story problems and whoever knew the answer would burst out of the water. Who would have thought swimming could facilitate a math class so well? Now we do swimming lessons almost every afternoon. Nancy who is in highschool has never been in water like this so the whole experience is awesome and awkward and she doesn’t even want to get out! The boys are a bit fearless, splashing and dog paddling, but are now practicing floats and strokes, looking adorable of course. I basically have no idea what I’m doing, or how to teach swimming lessons, but with lots of grace and head counting, teaching on the spot, splashing, and turn-taking---it works!

“We are not simply the final destinations in the flow of God’s gifts. Rather, we find ourselves midstream, so to speak. The gifts flow into us, and they flow on from us.” –Miroslav Volf

We have been having these really neat community meetings recently to evaluate Nehemiah. I wanted to share some of the things we discuss and value. This is what you can pray about when you pray for our Nehemiah community.
-A culture of mutual respect manifest in: fellowship, relational integrity, being comfortable with each other, trusting each other, having each others interests in our heart, how we greet, visit, share, feel free with each other.
-confronting issues in love and resolving them in a timely manner
-A willingness to overcome personal comfort in the interests of the bigger picture
-praying together
-hospitality
-a passion to overcome our propensity to gossip
-Never lose the focus on everyone being a learner and in training
-Remain an innovation center with a focus on ongoing innovation
-teaching the children about God, the values of the kingdom
-Let our lives be a harmony containing all the elements of a beautiful sound to the glory of God.
-Constantly improving how we communicate: opportunities, initiatives, and in general, what is all going on.
-Using your voice and not keeping quiet when something needs to be said
There are many more, but I can’t remember them right now. But I am overwhelmed with the difference in conversations and ability to discuss since I was last here.

The other week the students had a mission weekend to Kanu, a community about an hours walk away, where some of the people training here are from. It was amazing. I used to have this fear and skepticism around big evangelistic movements or crusades. I thought it would turn into a big emotional hype with no foundation. Even though I wanted people to know Jesus and have that abundant life and freedom, I guess I didn’t want it to happen that they would have tons of people just left. But who am I to tell God how he should do things? Who can deny a healed person, or not rejoice? I am learning that God works in many many ways, and sometimes they don’t seem like they all fit together, because Christians dispute so much on the “right way to do things” but opposites don’t bother God like they bother us. The women who went to Jesus’ tomb “ were filled with fear and joy…Jesus was fully man and fully God…” We may say, “How can you be filled completely with two different things?...” It doesn’t bother Him, and I am feeling so free that I don’t have to decide or judge, but just trust God, and rejoice in what he does. When people went around praying for families at their houses, a women who had been blind for five years was healed. They said, are you just saying that you can see? What are these letters on this shirt? She couldn’t read, so she just said, this one looks like this…and made the motions with her fingers! Another girl had been sick for a year and a half and God healed her until she was even laughing. About 1500 people came to see the Jesus Film, and many are now starting to meet together. I have been going a couple of times to gather with some of the families and it is so cool.

I went to a funeral in Kanu a couple of days ago.
They buried her in the backyard, not two meters from the door. I saw them dig her grave yesterday and today they laid her there—dark brown skin in a dark brown box under dark brown soil. With a flag on top. Hours passed and even her husband’s Luo words were translated into louder Luo—his own too feeble from grief. All the women wore white dresses and head scarves with red crosses on top. The men wore the robes and caps—the Legion of Maria…A sort of irony or what? Wasn’t it black we always wear to funerals? It reminded me of that “band of angels comin’ for to carry me home” A white passage, sending you into heaven. That is where she is, I know. Where was she going when she died? She finally knew the answer to that question, not two days before she died. Then—it came suddenly, just a headache, meningitis they think, no warning. Only 17, her husband much older. Her babies much younger, and much sadder then all the happy dancing and singing women outside after the burial. The family stays in the area for 3 days mourning and playing drums all through the night and all the guests eat away the village, turning the whole affair into a social and political platform…Even though I couldn’t understand most any of the Luo burial ceremony, I did hear “Kibaki, and Railla..” thrown in somewhere, which gave me the heads up that the speeches were not purely in memory of Moreen, but a presidential elections pitch as well. But really I can’t blame them--there were a lot of people around.

On Wednesdays I go to Jue Kale, in Miwani, to a little nursery school. It is a tiny room where they meet. I love them so much. There teacher, Marian, is so creative; she even molded all the letters for them out of mud and baked them in the sun. We learn about animals, I bring a story book, we sing songs and learn many other things.

“Never be afraid of your own faintheartedness in the endeavor to love, nor even too fearful of any bad actions that you may commit in the course of that endeavor. I am sorry I cannot say anything more comforting to you, for active love compared with contemplative love is a hard and awesome business.” -Dostoevsky
I am so behind in writing to you all, and I can hardly write about everything, but I am having a splendid time, and I hope you are also doing well!
Much love, Anna
Hakuna mungu mwingine, aliekama wewe