An Unforgettable Day in My Past

This is a day recorded in my journal ten years ago, a piece of my heart that I rarely open up for all to see.  But I've just finished e-mailing the story to a friend, and for some reason I feel I should post it on here as well.  My prayer is that it will help someone out there and be a blessing.
 

January 14, 2001

I was 19 years old, almost 20.  We were moving from one tribe to another, and my dad was in the bush building our house in the new village.  My mom, my sister, and I were staying in town at a guest house for a couple of weeks until our house was finished in the bush.  It was a Sunday.  Dad had our only vehicle, and he was still out in the village preaching that Sunday.  So, not having transportation to go to church, we had to stay in the guest house that Sunday.  Three white women walking to church in Mt. Hagen town was out of the question!  The guest house cleared out as everyone else went to church.  The only person there besides us was the young man who worked at the front desk.  We were in an upstairs apartment in the building. 

My mom sent me downstairs to dump our trash in the outside trash bin.  The trash bin was in the fenced in back yard, so we figured all would be fine.  I went down the stairs with the trash, and was just about to go out the back door when a man suddenly grabbed me by the arm.  He spun me around to face another man (I am trembling even now as I type this) two feet away, holding a gun at my chest.  The man holding my arm leaned close and whispered in my ear in English, “Don’t try anything or I’ll blow you away.”  At first, I was very confused as they pulled me into the lobby and shut the door.  Now I was cut off from my family, and they had no idea what was going on.  Then it hit me—these men were robbing the guest house, and I had just walked in on an armed robbery!  The one holding my arm made it very plain to me that he had a knife in his other hand under his jacket.  Another one had a stocking cap pulled low over his face with eye-holes cut out.   I looked around frantically for the desk clerk, and saw that they had his hands and feet tied up and that he was lying under the desk.  I didn't know if he was dead or alive.  Talk about praying a Nehemiah prayer over and over again!  My mind was frozen at that moment, and all I could think to pray was, “Oh, God, please help me, protect me!”  They left me standing there for a few minutes in the middle of the lobby.  I was trembling like a leaf.  THEN it happened.  A peace that I cannot explain washed over me as I realized that I was not alone.  God Almighty was right beside me, and He could see everything that was happening!  No, it did not take away all of my fear, but somehow it made it alright because I knew that God was in total control of the situation.  I can remember actually smiling in the midst of that storm.  And my heart filled with pity as I watched these three men rushing around the lobby trying to get their hands on as much as they could carry away.  They thought that money and things were most important, but I had God on my side!  

The man with the knife came back over, led me to a couch, and told me to sit.  He sat down right in front of me, very close, and started asking me questions, “Where are you from?  Australia, New Zealand?—all this still in English.  I answered him in his language.  Please understand, my voice was a croaking whisper because I could barely get any words out!  But I told him that my family and I were missionaries from America, and that we went there to tell him and his people how to go to Heaven.  I think the fact that I could speak his language fluently gained me some respect.  I asked him if he was saved.  The words for "to be saved" in Pidgin are "tanim bel" which literally means "to repent."  He hung his head, and mumbled that he used to go to church but not anymore.  To my utter amazement, the tables were turning!  How could this man who had just threatened to blow me away be hanging his head as if in shame?  Could it be conviction?  It must have been because he suddenly jumped up and ordered me to stay put.  I half came out of my chair imploring him to think about it now and not die and go to Hell.  But he didn’t want to think about it anymore.  Now please understand, any words coming out of my mouth had to be the from the Holy Spirit because I could not even think straight, let alone witness!    Please see how very weak I was but how strong He is.  I could barely get words past my terrified throat, and I was scared to death of what they might do to me.  Would they rape me right here?  Would they kidnap me and take me to their village and then . . .?”  There are some things worse than death.  You know what I mean. 

Finally, after what seemed like eons of time (but probably only about 15 minutes), he came back over to me again.  As he led me back to the door I came in at, he asked me my name.  Since it looked like freedom was in sight, and I didn’t want to make him mad at this point, I told him my name was Jessica.  He told me his name was Joe.  I have no idea if that was his real name or not, but I promised him that I would be praying for him.  Then he tried to hug me.  I put my hands up in front of my face, and said, “Please don’t do that.”  Then he let me go, telling me to go back to my family and not come back down until they were gone.  I was free!  As I climbed those stairs on wobbly legs, it hit me what I had just been through, and what could have happened and didn’t.  It was nothing but amazing grace and God’s marvelous protection. 

Unfortunately, that was not the end of the story.  The devil plagued me with fear for eight months after that.  I was scared of every man I didn’t know.  Every time I heard a knock at the door, I would go stiff from fright.  Aftershock, I guess.  The devil took every fear I had and magnified it until fear literally controlled me.  I even got to the point of doubting God and His love for me.  Finally, one night I couldn’t take it any longer.  I knelt beside my bed, prayed for help, and through gritted teeth reminded the devil that I was God’s child, that Jesus had already defeated him at Calvary, and that He shed His Blood for me because He loved me.  I can’t explain how, but from that moment on, the fear left—all of it.  It was gone, and I was once again free.  I think too often we as Christians do not realize the power in the Blood of Christ and the power in that Name—Jesus.  Satan hates and fears Jesus Christ and His Blood because he knows he is already defeated by Him.  "The name of the LORD is a strong tower: the righteous runneth into it, and is safe."  Proverbs 18:10

     

Pip and Squeak

I have not written anything about our pets, Pip and Squeak. 

Seth LOVES animals, any animals.  In fact, I have my fears of what he may do if he ever sees a snake!  I have drilled it into him zillions of times that snakes are not nice and that we run from snakes.  But I am still not very sure.  Anything that is alive and moves, he wants for his pet.

A dog would be ideal, but where we live right now, a dog would not be wise.  We live right next door to our landlord in his yard.  I can just imagine . . . holes, dog messes, murdered chickens.  Yeah, not a pretty picture.  But when our son was trying to catch our neighbor's chickens so that he could pet them and love on them, our hearts broke.  The tears streaming down his adorable face were too much for us!  So we got him his very own pets--Pip and Squeak.  Here they are.  This is Pip.  Pip is smooth and sleek.

And this is Squeak.  Squeak has a wild hairdo.  He is my favorite!

I never would have thought I would go for guinea pigs IN MY HOUSE, but they are in my house IN MY LIVING ROOM!

And to be honest, I wouldn't have it any other way.  They think I am their mommy too!  They are quiet in the morning while BJ is in the living room doing his devotions, but the minute I walk out, they start squeaking loudly for their breakfast.  Anytime they hear the fridge door open, they assume I am going to give them a salad!  They are well named--pigs--because they would literally eat constantly all day long if I let them.

To my surprise, I found out that guinea pigs love to be held and petted.  They run from us when we try to get them out of their cage, almost as if they are playing games with us.  But once we have them in our laps, they sprawl out and enjoy all the attention!  They are sooooo cute!

Every morning, Seth comes out of his room and sits in front of the guinea pig cage to talk and play with his pets.  He laughs and laughs every morning at their antics.  So in spite of the fact that I am constantly sweeping my floor after they go racing around their cage flinging their "carpet" of wood chips in all directions, it is worth it to me to see the joy and love on Seth's face for Pip and Squeak.

Tuesdays at Hekima

This past Tuesday, we went to Hekima Language School for our Swahili class again, and I took some more pictures.  By the way, the word "hekima" in Swahili means wisdom.  So I guess we are gaining wisdom in learning this language!  I thought you might like to see our outside classroom.

They have indoor classrooms at Hekima too, but we prefer to be outside under the trees.  Our class begins everyday (Monday-Friday) at 12:30 p.m.  At 2:00, we break for "chai" or tea.

It is a Kenyan tradition to drink tea twice a day--once at around 10:00 a.m. and again around 4:00 p.m.  The language teachers at Hekima are convinced that "chai" rejuvenates the minds of their students so that they study better, so "wakati wa chai" (tea time) is incorporated into every class.  For us, it is a time to fellowship and a chance to use our Swahili in conversation with other teachers and students.

Seth LOVES the "chai" at Hekima.  I'm not sure if I just haven't mastered the art of making it, or if it is the novelty of drinking it at Hekima, but he rarely wants hot tea at home.  Cold, sweet tea is what he asks for at home.  But at Hekima, he drinks cup after cup of hot "chai".

Here he is with Winnie, or as most people call her, Mama Andrew.

Winnie watches Seth for me during language classes.  She is such a great blessing to me, and as you can see, Seth loves his "teacher."  Without this dear lady, there would be no possible way for me to learn this language well.  Therefore, I believe that she will one day receive part of the reward for what God does in our ministry here in Kenya.  Because of her, I am learning to communicate with these people in the language of their heart.  Also, she is teaching Seth Swahili as they play together.  It is amazing to me how many words and phrases he knows!   I love watching the delight on the faces of these people when my three-year-old speaks their language!

By the way, as a note of interest:  Mothers here in Kenya take on the name of their firstborn son.  If they only have daughters, they take the name of their oldest daughter.  If they have a daughter first, they will take the name of that daughter until they have a son.  Then their name changes, and they take the name of their son for the rest of their life.  Baby boys are obviously more important in this culture.  So I am Mama Seth here in Kenya.  People here rarely ever call me Jessi.  And BJ is Baba Seth.  Honestly, BJ is glad to have a son because in this culture, that is a matter of esteem.  You are not looked on very favorably if you never have a son.  People feel sorry for the father if his wife cannot give him a son, and sadly enough, the women here take a lot of flack for it.

At 3:30 p.m. our class is over, and we return home.  So that is how our Tuesdays go each week.  It makes for a very busy day!

Chocolate Pancakes

"Mommy, can I please have a chocolate pancake?"

My Precious Moments picture!

I racked my brain for a few seconds trying to figure out what a chocolate pancake was.  It couldn't be a real chocolate pancake because I have never cooked him those.  I was about to say, "No," not having a clue what he was talking about when I suddenly remembered something.  About a month ago, someone in America had sent us a package in the mail with Reeses cups in it.  When it reached us, however, the Reeses cups were flat!

I remembered BJ and I joking to each other that "chocolate pancakes" taste just as good as Reeses cups!  So with a chuckle, I headed for our candy basket, and my answer was yes instead of no!  Only on the mission field!!!

A Tour of My Home

Does anyone besides me like to tour through other people's homes and be shown around?  I enjoy seeing the layout of different houses, and I like learning from other peoples' ideas in how they decorate their homes.  I thought you might like to see the inside of my home as well as the outside, so let me show you around!  "Ninakukaribisha nyumbani mwangu."  (I welcome you to my home.)

First of all, my home on the outside:

Now, as you come through my front door, you are in my living room.

Standing in my living room you are facing my quaint, little kitchen.  I love it, don't you?

 

And directly to your left is our guest bathroom which Seth also uses as it is next door to his room.

Turn right again, and you are in Seth's room.  

We brought his toddler bed with us on the container, as well as our living room couches and our bed.

Now I take you to our room. 

 

And tucked in our room is our bathroom.

Now, let me take you for a walk outside.  Around the back of my house is my washroom that our landlord built on as an addition after we moved in.

In front of our house is our neighbor's garden . . .

 and our driveway that leads down to our storage shed/BJ's office.

BJ built this shed before our container arrived so that we would have a place to put all of the extra things that we shipped over . . . like four years of clothes for Seth! 

Right now, it also doubles as an office for BJ to read and study in.  This is his sanctuary.  He loves the hours he gets to spend in there with his Bible, his God, and his books!

So now you know better where we live.  I love the home that God has given me here in Kenya.  I know we probably won't be here forever; we'll go wherever God leads after language school.  But every day as I clean my little house, I am so thankful for how God provided this beautiful place for us.  

Importance of Learning the Language

We've found out something very interesting since learning Swahili, especially within the last week or two as we've been studying what our teacher calls subjunctives.

When we first got to Kenya, we noticed that when the people spoke English to us, they rarely used the word "please".  To us, it seemed rather rude as if they were always demanding.  But now as we learn more of their language, things make more sense.  Swahili has commands for when you are upset, and it also has polite commands with an understood please built into them--More like, "Please do this," or "Would you please . . .."  We didn't know this until we studied about subjunctives--polite commands!  Ah, today, things fell into place for us.  They were just translating directly from their language to English, but in English, we have to actually say the word "please".  It is not understood.

So, essentially, when you learn the language, you learn to understand the people.  VERY important!

God at Work

First of all, I took a couple of pictures at church today, but they had to be before the service started because I needed to interpret during the service.  The church meets in a school building right now. 

 

We had 13 Deaf show up for church today!

So that means that this week, we grew from 6 to 13!  What a blessing!  They were all students from the Karen Deaf school again.  And they really seemed to enjoy it.  BJ and I signed a song together during the morning service as a special.  It was the song “Bow the Knee.”

What a blessing to come down and have the Deaf say that they really liked that song!  If it was a blessing to them, then that was our main goal, although we pray that it will also touch the hearts of the hearing people for the Deaf.  It is amazing to see what God is doing here.  After church, BJ was talking with a couple of the men in the church, and they asked him, “So what have you been doing over there at the Deaf school?”  BJ told him, “Nothing yet.”  They were so puzzled, and asked, “Then how are all these Deaf people coming to our services every week?”  The only answer is God.  God is bringing them to us. 

I am interpreting again!  Thank God for Oklahoma Baptist College.  I am not a perfect interpreter—far from it!  But I am so thankful to have had the training and to at least feel equipped with the knowledge of how to do it.  The signs will come with time.  In the mean time, it is so good to be used by God to minister to the Deaf.  They are our heart, our burden, our love.  

It is funny.  At college, I used to think I could never interpret a whole service by myself without my brain being too fried to think straight.  But when you are the only interpreter, God gives grace to do what needs to be done.  And I love it!  When the Madorys get back from America, and Bro. Madory is again the pastor, BJ and I will probably take turns with the interpreting. 

Then my ladies’ meeting after church went well too.  I enjoyed teaching about Lot’s wife in the Bible.  Also, I had been baking and freezing all this past week, so that there would be lots of food for it.  I knew many of them would not go back home after church and would be hungry.  And one thing I have learned since coming here:  Culturally, it is very rude for the one serving to not bring tons of food.  You get renamed “Mama mchoyo”.  “Mchoyo” means stingy.  Ouch!  I do not want that name!  ha ha  So I brought about 50 muffins, about 40 scones, and a loaf of homemade cinnamon bread, not to mention tea and coffee.  I was relieved after the meeting that there was still some left.  Better to have some left than to not have enough! 

So it has been a very busy week, but a great week.  Now it is time to rest until Swahili class tomorrow.  Only one more month of language classes! 

Screams from Kenya

This must be my week for bugs and critters.  The slug's brother showed up this morning in the same bathroom, same shower.  Maybe seeking revenge???  Needless to say, I've been a little jittery all day, expecting bugs anywhere and everywhere. 

This afternoon, Seth asked me to help him find Boo, his stuffed monkey.  So we went searching all around his room.  I was on my knees, looking under the dresser, when all of a sudden, I came face to face with a lizard!!!  I screamed, then scrambled backwards as he slithered under Seth's bed.  I gave up the search for Boo until Hubby gets home to dispose of that lizard!  I don't mess with slugs and I don't mess with lizards.  I kill all bugs I see . . . well, except for Seth's pet crickets.  They get a "tiny" bit of mercy because I love my son, and my son is all boy.  He begged me to let him have the lizard for a pet too.  Sure, OUTSIDE when Daddy gets home!  Right now, we are going to leave the nice lizard alone, so he doesn't go anywhere else in the house.  I hope I make it to 30 (a couple of weeks away!).  Ha ha

An Unwelcome Visitor

This morning, we had a visitor in our house!  BJ met him in the shower!  I am glad BJ was the one taking the shower and not me.  Whew!  It was a four-inch slug.  We’ve seen several of these since we got here, but never in the house yet.  Needless to say, my husband kindly disposed of him for me.  The slug is now happily spelunking in our septic tank!  I say good riddance!  I was going to spare you the picture, but BJ thinks I should put it on here anyway.  Why try to hide life on the mission field?  Still, I must say, this picture gives me the creeps!


P.S.  Okay, I couldn't stand looking at that picture every time I opened my blog, so the slug is gone--gone forever!

P.S. #2:  If anyone is curious enough to want to see a four-inch slug, here is the link to it:  Picture of slug

A Soul Saved!

BJ got to lead his first person to Christ in Swahili this last Thursday!  He had started out in English, not sure how it would go in Swahili.  But then he could see in the lady’s eyes that she was not understanding him well.  So he switched to Swahili, and watched, amazed, as the Holy Spirit brought her under conviction.  She prayed on her own to receive Christ as her Savior, and BJ said you could tell that it was real and sincere.  It taught us both a lesson:  The Holy Spirit is the One Who convicts and saves in spite of the inability of whoever He uses to do the talking.  That is so beautiful to me!  Once back in the car on their way home, BJ asked his assistant pastor how he did in Swahili and what mistakes he made.  He was told that aside from one or two wrong tenses, and the fact that he plowed right through from start to finish (lack of more vocabulary!), he did very well!  His Kenyan friends were quite pleased that he was willing to give it a go in Swahili.

Contentment All the Time

A real blessing that God has given us this past week has been rain!  Kenya had an extremely dry year last year, and it is affecting this country.  The grass is dry which means that the cows and livestock are starving and dying.  People, especially in the villages, are hungry because the gardens are not growing well.  So we have been praying for rain.  Maybe I am silly, but it bothers me to see herds of cows with their ribs and bones sticking out.  If it is that bad for the cows, what are the people going through?  So even Seth has been praying daily, “God, please send Your rain, so that the grass will grow again.”  Well, God hears little boys’ prayers!  We have been having some serious rains all of a sudden this week!  Hopefully, it means the rainy season is here.  

Unfortunately, with the rains have come power outages.  But that is normal here.  The power goes off at least several times a week even when it doesn’t rain.  But when it rains, you learn to expect it and work around it.  We have a kerosene lamp and candles,

and when we get to use them, it makes for a really cozy evening together.  We tell Seth that we get to use the special lamp and the candles because we live in Kenya.  People in America don’t get to use these kind of things because they always have power.  Hey, the mission field is whatever you make to be.  It can be a place of frustration if all we do is complain about the inconveniences, or it can be looked at as a special blessing, and an opportunity to spend quality time together as a family.  We can always find something to be thankful for even during the inconveniences in life.  I will admit that I am not perfect in this area.  The Lord has been working on me lately on what my little son sees in my attitude and my words.

It is very sobering for me when I stop and think about it because I know that my attitude and actions will be reflected in him.  He learns daily from BJ and I.  What a scary thought!  But I want Seth to LOVE the mission field, and I want him to know that God blessed him exceedingly when He chose for him to grow up in Kenya.

Interpreting for the Deaf

Four Deaf young people from the Karen Deaf School showed up at the church during the Swahili service.  BJ, Seth, and I took them to the pastor’s office where we got to know everyone’s name, and chatted a little while--a must with the Deaf.  They love information.  Then BJ taught them a lesson in sign language while I sat there trying to learn as many signs from him and them as I could before I had to interpret the morning’s English service!  It was a great help for me, especially since BJ was giving them background information and the Bible stories that would help them better understand his morning’s message. 

To my relief, as I interpreted that morning, I found that these students understand ASL quite well, and when I did sign something that they didn’t understand, they would ask me what it meant.  Then they would give me the KSL sign for it.  So needless to say, my KSL vocabulary grew quite a bit, and I think they were able to understand the message.  Praise the Lord!  I had definitely been praying that God would somehow work a miracle through me because I knew there was no way I could do it myself!  

My "Flower Garden"

Recently, I got in the gardening mood, so BJ took us to the flower sellers along the sides of the road to buy me some plants.  We walked through the flowers while I tried to make a decision.  Finally, I couldn’t make just one decision, so I made three!  My new flowers are so pretty.  Two of them are rose bushes that I planted in two large, identical, clay pots.  One of the rose bushes has dark pink roses, 

and the other has roses that are pink and white in the same flower.   

They are beautiful.  Then I also got a bush that has a big yellow flower.  

I planted it in a big clay pot too, but it’s design is different so it sits right between the two rose bushes outside under my living room window.  I can’t wait until they bush out and get full of flowers!  By the way, the clay pots are very cheap here. It is actually cheaper to buy nice, handcrafted, clay pots like these than the plastic ones you can get at the store which is exactly opposite the way it is in America.  I am planting them in pots because our yard right now is not really our own.  We live on our landlord's property, so I will wait until we have our own yard someday to plant them in the ground.

I also have a spider plant and a wandering jew on my front porch.  

I am planning to crochet a plant holder to hang up my wandering jew so that it can trail down nicely.  Then I love my African violet in my kitchen window. 

I am waiting for it to bloom.  I will have houseplants all over my house before very long!

Most embarressing moment? Language blooper

This past week has gone well.  Time is going by very quickly, especially for BJ now that he is pastoring Karen Baptist Church for the next 5-6 months.  He and several of the men in the church have started a Thursday evening visitation program.  So far, BJ has been the silent partner since the talking is done in Swahili.  But it is giving him a wonderful opportunity to watch, listen, and learn from these Kenyan men on how to approach people with the Gospel here.  They seem to appreciate the fact that this missionary is humble enough to learn from them. 

Every Tuesday, we go to Hekima Language School for our Swahili class.

 

The man in the foreground there is Ndelegua, our Swahili teacher.

Here are a couple of pictures of tea time at Hekima.  After about an hour and a half, we break for "chai", whether we are here at Hekima or at my house.  Tea time is a mandatory part of the day in Kenya!

 

Normally, our teacher comes to our house to teach us.  But on Tuesdays we go there so that we have the opportunity to use our Swahili with other students who are also learning Swahili.  We have noticed that it definitely helps us with the language.  Well, last Tuesday, I really embarrassed myself in my attempt at conversing with a couple of the teachers there!

I was telling them about when BJ and I were courting in Bible College.  The Swahili word for “college” is “chuo”.  The problem is that you only have to change one letter in that word to get different words.  For instance “chui” is leopard, and “choo” means restroom.  So, yes, you’ve probably guessed what I said.  I was telling them all about our courtship, and, unfortunately, I misidentified the location of our year and a half long courtship!  They burst out laughing, and I realized my mistake!  I am sure that my cheeks flushed a deep crimson as I tried to regain my composure!  Talk about most embarrassing moments!  I guess every missionary has "growing pains" when it comes to learning the language.  But that one was BAD!!!

I get tickled at the way some things are said in Swahili.  For instance, when you have a headache, you say, “Ninaumwa na kichwa,” which literally means, “I am being bitten by my head!”  I can honestly say that learning this language is fun!  Yes, it takes work and determination.  In fact, I’ve had to decide recently to make myself get up earlier in the mornings in order to have time to study my vocabulary after my devotions (part of which is reading my Swahili Bible) before Seth wakes up.  But it is a blessing when you see the respect and admiration in the eyes of these people that this white family is interested enough in them and their country to learn their language.  How thankful I am for the training we received at Oklahoma Baptist College.  It was drilled into us there—learn the language of the people you are going to minister to.  How can you reach their hearts if you don’t show them you care about them?  People take pride in their language, and when you speak it with them, they respect you and love you for it.   

We counted up the hours that we have been taking language classes and found that we only have about two months left!  So the end is in sight!  We will not be real fluent by the time we finish, but we will have learned the foundation, and from there we’ll continue to learn as we study on our own and converse with people.