Harmony

Our first Sunday in Kenya I woke up thinking, "What a difference two years makes!" I couldn't wait to get to church, to greet my friends and make new ones, to worship with my brothers and sisters, to see the slum again, to be in beloved Mathare Valley. There was no apprehension just great anticipation. It was going to be a great day!

As we drove toward the slum, my eyes and heart took in the familiar sights, smells and sounds of the Kenya I love. It felt like it had been just a couple of months absence rather than two full years. I remembered it all and as we got closer to the church and I recognized landmarks I couldn't stop myself from smiling and clapping with eagerness. Those in the van with me that have been to Kenya before shared my excitement. We were all literally at the edge of our seats, peering out the windows and ready to jump out the minute the van stopped! We were as excited as the children swarming our van the moment we pulled into the yard of the church.

I exited the van to new and old friends, to embraces and greetings, to the sounds of worship already coming from the sanctuary. Escorted in by many I was handed a bulletin! That was new. I couldn't stop smiling. The sanctuary was packed and as we made our way to our seats my eyes drank in all the changes and all of the improvements they had made to the sanctuary in my two year absence. They were enough to make me take notice but it was still home, I felt overwhelming joy. Getting settled in our seats I started spotting people I had met last trip and we began to hug and greet each other as if we had only been separated a week or two. The instant camaraderie we had developed last time was renewed immediately.

Worship was going at full strength. The worship team was leading us in Swahili and while we couldn't sing in their language we could still fully participate and worship with the Body. It was exuberant and sincere worship. I wept. I couldn't help it. I felt full to overflowing to be there with people I considered to be family and I knew regarded me in the same way.

Despite my excitement I noticed some of our team members looking overwhelmed, uncertain and uncomfortable. I took a moment and prayed for them, that they would allow their hearts and minds to be open to this work of God. That they would allow themselves to be touched by the worship and the people of MWC. I remembered my first experience at MWC so I knew what they were most likely thinking and feeling, it is a lot to process. But I also knew what and how God wanted to use it.

To this point none of the worship songs were familiar musically, never mind the language! But a new song had started and I found myself humming along with it. "Oh Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder, consider all the works thy hands have made...." My eyes popped open and my heart soared. I took in the moment. MWC was singing in Swahili and CWC was singing in English and yet we were singing the same song with the same heart and in harmony with one another. It was a perfect union of hearts for God raising their voices together. It was a moment in which I could imagine what worship at the throne may sound like, with the nations joining together. I'm not sure I have ever heard a more beautiful sound and I'm positive I will never forget it.

"Then I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and on the sea, and all that is in them, singing: 'To him who sits on the throng and to the Lamb be praise and honor and glory and power, for ever and ever! ....there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and in front of the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands. and they cried out in a loud voice: 'Salvation belongs to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb.' " (Revelation 5:13, 7:9-10 NIV)

The Spirit of Courage

Winding our way through the slum we hopped over streams of sewage, dodged piles of trash, skirted around roaming goats and pigs and arrived at our second home in the Valley that we were honored to visit that day. We filed into this home, slightly larger and brighter than the last, and found seats. Standing in front of us was Wanja and her littlest, Morgan. At two years old he was eyeing us wazungu (white people!) and clinging to his mother's skirt. Wanja shared her story in her native language, Swahili, and Anthony translated for us.

Wanja was married with three children when her husband passed away. His family expelled her children and her out of the home and somehow she found her way to Mathare Valley. Wanja was HIV positive and pregnant. When Morgan was born she was faced with a choice. And no matter what her decision was it would end up meaning certain death for this new little life. Morgan was HIV negative when he was born but he needed to eat to live. And Wanja knew that she didn't have enough money to buy formula to feed him and if she breastfed him he would get the virus and be HIV positive. What to do? She had two choices. Let him starve to death or feed him and give him a virus that would end up killing him someday. Trust me, a mother's heart - a parent's heart - can't take the options that lie before Wanja that day. There is a Jewish Proverb that says, "When you have no choice, mobilize the spirit of courage." Wanja had to mobilize the spirit of courage to make this choice.

The spirit of courage that Wanja had to meet face to face made the decision for her. She breastfed her baby, giving him life and death at the same time.

We all stared at Wanja, twisting a piece of material in her hands with tears threatening to spill over as she told us her decision. And then we all looked at Morgan, with his big eyes curiously checking us out. The sounds of the slum faded away and a silence fell over the group. I glanced around the room to see tears falling down the faces of my team members. Horrified for Wanja, that she was forced to make such a choice. Horrified for ourselves, what would our decision be if we found ourselves in the same position?

Many people will ask, how can Wanja live with her decision? The answer is the same reason why Emma can live with hope. She was rescued from the dark by the One who created her. She accepted the gift of salvation that Jesus offers...freely. Not many things in this life are free but Wanja came across the one thing that was not only free but also gave her the courage she needs to live with her decision every day as she cares for her little boy.

As we left her home she hugged each of us and there was no shame, no despair, no fear evident. She takes God at his word. She knows that even with the hard choices he will not leave her, nor will he leave her children. She walks tall and with confidence because God is her strength, her determination, and her courage.

Wanja is part of a ministry at Mathare Worship Centre called Taraja. This is a group of women who are trained to do different trades such as beading, basket weaving, etc that will enable them to create goods to sell and provide an income for their families. The remainder of the week we would find Wanja in front of a loom weaving baskets and such. Her smile was a copycat of Emma's, it lit up the Valley. We would purposely seek her out just to get a smile for the day.

Sometimes we need a picture of the thing we seek. And all of us seek different things. Courage has always been a hard one for me. I am not a risk-taker, something I think requires courage. I would rather follow than lead because I believe leadership takes courage. I prefer to be told what to do rather than make a decision because decisions can alter life events and I don't think of myself as courageous enough to make a choice. All of these really lead back to risk. Taking a risk requires courage and I am the "cowardly lion"! But I sat in Wanja's home and witnessed what courage looks like, feels like, sounds like. And I knew that if she could make a choice like that then certainly I could rise to the occasion when called upon. I just have to "mobilize the spirit of courage" like she did and go forward confident in God's presence with me.

Hearing Wanja's story that day gave me the picture of courage my heart needed. I think of courage and I think of Wanja.

"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go." (Joshua 1:9 NIV)

A life that overflows with hope

The first time I met her I was unsure and out of place. It didn't help that we spoke two different languages. I spoke English and had said I would "never" go to Africa and she spoke Swahili and had grown up in a 6 square mile piece of land in Africa. We communicated with the universal gestures. I had landed in Mathare Valley, Kenya in a room full of Kenyan babies and their caregiver, Emma. I spent most of that morning with Emma but since we couldn't speak to one another with any sort of understanding I didn't even get to know her name. But I didn't forget her.

Fast forward two years and I meet up with Emma once again. This time I was thrilled to be back in Mathare Valley and I found Emma in the cookhouse on the roof of the church. And this time I determined to get to know Emma despite our communication barriers. We smiled at one another and I was struck. Her smile lit up the Valley!

Many will ask, "How can she smile? Doesn't she know where she is?" The answer? Oh it's so simple that we have complicated it. The answer is HOPE. Many look at the Valley and and don't see hope, instead they see despair. But Emma proves that hope is alive in Mathare Valley.

On Monday afternoon Pastor took us on a tour through the Valley. It was the first time I would be face to face with the oldest slum in East Africa. The church sits on the main road and on the fringes of the rows and rows of homes that are the make-up of the Valley, so the only interaction I had to this point with the slum was a few of its residents and children that are active in the church. We started winding our way through the rows of homes toward the first of the houses we would visit that day. As we got closer the space to move got tighter and the light grew dimmer. Finally we arrived, single file, at the home of...Emma. I was thrilled! She welcomed us into a space that didn't feel like it could accommodate 16 people and was pitch black despite the kerosene lamp burning. The flame went straight up but didn't emit light into Emma's home. We crowded into her pitch black home and listened to her share her story in Swahili while Anthony translated.

Emma, her Christian name, is an HIV positive mother that has three children. One of her boys, John, lives at Sanctuary of Hope (SoH) with Pastor and Mama Karau. Everyday she cooks two meals at the church for the school children. She worships on the worship team each Sunday. She lives in hope because she invited Jesus into her life and allowed him to transform her darkness into light. What an honor it was to be welcomed into Emma's home, to hear her story, to be reminded that hope shines brightly in the midst of despair.

During the next week that we spent there, every time I saw Emma we smiled and greeted one another. It made my day to see her smile, so big and bright. I would seek her out each day just to see that smile. My heart warmed toward this woman whose circumstances said she should live in despair and yet hope told her she could live. This was a lesson my heart needed to grab onto and take home with me.

Our last Sunday in Kenya Emma stood on a stage with the worship team and worshipped the Lord, who rescued her from the pit. My attention was captured by her joy in worship, by the freedom she was living in because of God. She freely rejoiced in the Lord, uninhibited by her past or even her present. Her countenance reflected how joy and peace flowed in her life because of hope and it overflowed to touch others. I will never forget Emma's smile, it shines with the promises of God and the overflow of hope.

"Yet if you devote your heart to him and stretch out your hands to him, if you put away the sin that is in your hand and allow no evil to dwell in your tent, then you will lift up your face without shame; you will stand firm and without fear. You will surely forget your trouble, recalling it only as waters gone by. Life will be brighter than noonday, and darkness will become like morning. You will be secure, because there is hope; you will look about you and take your rest in safety." (Job 11:13-18 NIV)

Confessions

I have a confession to make. Well, maybe I have a couple. We’ll see. But the one that I can make right now has to do with stories. I didn’t think I had any. See, you will find out as I share more and more of my trip, I had a very different trip than the rest of the team. Being team leader is a whole different trip! And well, because it was such a different trip I didn’t get to experience what the rest of the team did, I didn’t get to interact with the children like I did in 2007, I didn’t get to just immerse myself in Mathare Worship Centre every day. So I didn’t think I had stories to share. I felt a little grumpy about it if the truth be known. But a few days ago I was showing a friend pictures of our time there and as I would go to a picture a story would come out! So, I have stories after all. I’m really honored to have stories to share because they are stories of God’s handiwork in the nations.

Okay I thought of another confession. I’m pretty Type A, obsessive, anal, call it what you will it’s what I am. My brain just works best on an organized level. I generally like to write in chronological order. I have already organized all 2300 pictures from the trip in chronological order because I remember things and people best according to a timeline! I think I’m weird so it’s okay, go ahead and say it! Here’s my confession: I’ve realized that I can’t write in chronological order any longer. As I see a picture and it prompts the story that my heart holds I’m just gonna put it out there, no matter when it happened! Oh man…the type A me is flinching but I think I’ll be okay!

There’s a Native American Proverb that says, “It takes a thousand voices to tell a single story.” And indeed, for me to tell the stories I must listen to the voices of the pictures and let them speak into my memory and I am prayerful that they will speak to your hearts.

So…where’s the hub?

“Why doesn’t Lanny go with you?”

Well the simple answer is he doesn’t feel called! Just because I am doesn’t mean he is or will be.

But I thought about how Lanny IS called to these trips – just outside of the box! Let me explain.

Lanny and I are a team, which means we support each other. We come up behind and alongside one another in the things God asks us to do. Remember when I shared he was on board with the team lead role right away? It was me that struggled! He was behind me on it because he knew that God would cover us. He knew it would take teamwork to get me ready and out the door by June 10. Sometimes my husband sees my calling much more clearly than I do.

Lanny participates in these trips in ways most people will never see. But I’m going to open eyes to what he does do, you’ll see just how called he is!

In the months leading up to the trip he is the one who listens, prays and affirms, the first one who hears my joys and sorrows and everything in between. Oh, there are others but he is the first one – he gets the “full meal deal” of my emotions, my frustrations, my fears, my insecurities. The rest of you get an abbreviated, if not completely worked through, version! (And all of you can shout Hallelujah!)

It was January 2009 and now we were in the year of departure. I had just come through a really hard couple of months with my lifelong bestie passing away quickly and suddenly from pancreatic cancer. The house was a wreck, I was behind on work for my clients and Kenya, all I could think about was Kenya and nobody else was there yet and I was a mess. Overwhelmed, grieving, juggling, lonely. Lanny got the “full meal deal” one night at Starbucks. Something had to give but I couldn’t figure out what I could take my hands off of. I have to work – we need my income. I have to lead the team to Kenya – God told me to. And the reason the house was a wreck? Something had to give! But a messy house stresses me out; I mean it messes with my mind. So Lanny took over the house. He released me from it. He said, forget the laundry, forget the dishes, the bathroom, forget about it all, I’ll take it on. Now, mind you this is a man who works a 40+ hour a week job and already does so much around our home. But he knew we were called to this role and he knew there would be sacrifice, because there always is with God’s purposes. So he came up alongside of me and helped me let go so I could focus and not allow the house to be a distraction.

Does he physically go on the trips? Nope but he goes on these trips with me! He’s with me every single step of the way beforehand, and he’s here for me when I get back and walk through the “aftermath”. He’s just as much called as I am.

May God’s favor and blessing rest on Lanny for his commitment to our marriage, to the places God leads us, to the calling God has placed on both of us and how he walks it out! Lanny Peninger rocks my world!

Who me? But I’m just a little mom from Falcon, CO!

God’s ways are beyond my comprehension! I’ve known this, I’ve said this, and it seems to me that for the past couple of years I have been living it! I often scratch my head and wonder at what God is thinking. Last August was no different except instead of just scratching my head and moving on I engaged in a full on wrestling match with God. Kind of like the one that Jacob had with him back in the day. You know the one. Where he refused to let go of God until he got his blessing and he limped out of the match with a permanent reminder of why we don’t win when we wrestle with God! I don’t know that I’m limping but the impression has certainly been made. So maybe I’m limping a little bit.

Here’s the short of the long (I know you are thinking, “Beth? Keep it short? Yeah right!” but trust me, this IS the short of the long!)…

I think the day; the moment of approach is seared into my memory. Indeed I found myself at a crossroads that day. It was another moment to obey or not, to trust or not, to believe or not. I have found that anytime I am face with any one of those choices I am at a crossroads. I didn’t exactly take a good first step.

“Beth, I need you to pray about becoming team leader for the ’09 trip…”
“NO!”
“Um, no see you can’t say no right away…”
“NO!”
“No, you can’t say that. You need to pray about it.”
“NO!”

Well you get the idea. I finally did quit saying no but then I just felt like fainting. Or throwing up. Or both. I felt a little dizzy. I think I might have known the minute I was asked that I was going to have to do it, but a wrestling match sounded like more fun!?!

What is going on here? Lord, do you know I am just this little mom from Falcon, Colorado that has only been overseas once, has zero experience, and oh have I mentioned that I am a woman?!? Men are far better leaders than I, I have been praying for a man to lead the trip. Lord, I’m not a man! This is pretty much how the conversation in my head is going as Pastor Isam is listing out these reasons why he thinks I am the team leader for this trip. I discreetly look around. Maybe we started up a church version of Candid Camera. Maybe I am the first victim; after all I am fairly gullible. But no…I see no signs of Candid Camera. Bummer.

So I had to agree to pray about it. Let me just pass along this piece of advice: if God asks you to do something and you don’t want to and have no interest in obeying him then don’t pray about it. You’ll get the answer you didn’t want. I’m just sayin’.

I gave God a whole list of reasons why I was NOT the person for the job. And they were good detailed reasons. He didn’t seem to care. Huh. And then he trumped me when I thought my husband would never go for this. Lanny was on board long before I was. Huh, that wasn’t good for my victory in this. So I twisted and turned and angled myself around the obvious answer. I held on tight to God and said, “I’m not letting go until you change your mind and tell me I don’t have to!” He never said a word.


We wrestled for four days. Four LONG days. Some of the most miserable days of my life. I pretty much knew the answer the day I was asked but had to engage in a wrestling match anyway. This made things pretty miserable around the Peninger homestead.

Finally I had to cave, to let go. I was exhausted and had no energy left to try and convince God that my way was the right way this time. So I said “yes”. Saying yes to God means saying no to myself. And I was scared. And then God spoke to me through his word.

"Brothers, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him. It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God—that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption. Therefore, as it is written: "Let him who boasts boast in the Lord." 1 Corinthians 1:26-31

Well. Alrighty then. Foolish and weak I am. God are you absolutely sure? SIGH. Okay, I’ll do it but I’m not too happy about it.

Lanny and I knew that when we agreed to this role that there would be pain in the offering of myself. We knew it would change our home and family dynamic for a season, it would require me to be gone more – both physically and mentally, it would challenge relationships, change relationships, stretch me further than I had been stretched to date. It would be hard and we were crazy enough to say yes. Being committed to obedience to God is rarely the easy road.


And so my adventures toward Kenya June 2009 started long before everyone else’s. While everyone else was thinking about the holidays I was thinking about team meetings in April and luggage storage in London. While everyone else was thinking about spring break plans I was thinking about in country debriefs. By the time we hit June 10 – departure day – I was already thinking about July 10 debrief stateside! I had already been on the trip in my mind and was preparing for our return.

Yes, my mind was there long before anyone else’s. But my heart, well my heart was having a hard time getting there. My mind seemed to override my heart.


On Friday, June 12 we exited customs late at night and glimpsed Pastor and Mama Karau waiting for us and I smiled. My heart got there.