a hard road home

Being back in Kenya brings me back to the face of reality.  I mean real reality. As difficult as our lives can be at times (and for some of us, life has slapped us hard in the face. Maybe more than once), when I spend time with people here, I'm reminded of the way the majority of people in the world live each day. Poverty like you may have never witnessed, living conditions that cause you to shake your head, disease and death that are far too familiar, opportunities to "make it out" resting at slim and none, tomorrows that look too much like todays for too many.


Yet in the midst of odds that honestly baffle my mind, I find people who are genuinely happy. People who smile each day and press on.  People who are not unmindful of their situations but are determined to make the best of them.  People who are thankful for what they have and not bitter at what they don't. Our corner on the challenges market, as we serve with Tumaini, is the impact that HIV AIDS has had on more than 2 million children in the country, leaving them without parents. Yet our Tumaini kids demonstrate some of the greatest determination and resilience imaginable. And the guardians who take them in, usually grandparents without adequate finances or health, do so gladly, as they believe (and discover anew) the providing grace of God.


I don't think my life is particularly rough, especially on a global comparison. But I can still find myself whining, venting, seeing what I don't have more quickly than what I possess. My much needed punch in the gut comes when I sit with my friends here and consider how they live. In spite of circumstances they've made a choice to serve God, to look for his hand and to believe that he's going to see them through their challenges.  I heard it from them again this morning as we sat in their homes listening to their stories. No bitterness, no complaining, no resentment. And if anyone could justify such feelings, some of these could.


Jesus never said the road would be easy. His yoke may be light but the path we travel is full of struggle, challenge and too often, pain. Yet he did promise to be there with us, to shoulder that yoke with us, to provide rest for us in the journey. Some of my Kenyan friends have learned that.  It's why I'm glad I'm back, so I might learn more of it from them.


Again.