won't you help me sing this song of freedom?

problem: I didn't bring my computer/cd player/I don't have an ipod, so I'm stuck with whatever song I most recently hear playing on repeat in my head until I hear another song.

today's playlist: Bob Marley mix, whichever boy band sang 'Quit Playing Games with My Heart' (complete with a music video, thank you modern bus system), and, because of the book I just read, the entire soundtrack of 'Wicked'.


for Leigh: I just finished The Secret Life of Bees and Wicked, and now I'm reading Walden, Alice in Wonderland, and the gospel of Matthew. : ) you?

for Dixon: yes, I remember the things I'm here to do. I promise.



for the rest of you: it is hard for me to articulate the things I'm thinking and feeling and seeing. I learn more about Kenyan culture every day that I'm here (I counted and am 95% sure this is my 8th trip to Kenya). I'm not sure if I'll ever be fully assimilated. there are so many American things I miss. but when I'm in the States there are so many Kenyan things I miss.

but this is not the point.

the more I see of Nairobi's 'generation x', the more concerned I am for the future of this beautiful country. I've watched and listened and learned enough to be thoroughly confused.

they say they want peace, but their lives suggest otherwise. they are lured into the glamour of a flashy thug-esque lifestyle. they wear shirts stating 'Soldier Boy' and they promise violent ends to anyone who crosses them.

...okay, obviously not everyone. but enough. yesterday on the bus I sat next to a boy who was chewing leaves and seeds of some sort- I have no idea what they were called, but I know they are a drug of some kind. I see bus drivers chew them to stay awake. I see them sniff glue. I see them walk home drunk. the women? the women are working.

what hope is there for their kids, who no doubt never see their fathers? what hope do they have of a brighter future than this one? the rich look past the poor; they keep walking. people are still talking about the disputed election results and ensuing violence from 16 months ago. they vow 'never again' and in the same breath they blame a certain tribe, a certain group of people, for the problems. the same tribe they shop with, eat with, work with, sit next to every day.

how can we move past this? Nairobi is moving too quickly from the traditional African way of life which still permeate the villages to the fast-paced, materialistic culture of the Western cultures. they want things they cannot yet have and their actions rarely match up to their words.


in Susan's living room hangs a large wall painting declaring 'faith, hope, love'. these are words I've heard countless times. I have a necklace with says 'faith'. it is one of my gifts, I think. people continually tell me they are 'impressed' by the amount of faith it takes to do what I'm doing. (wrong, I tell them: stubbornness is not the same as faith.) faith comes easily for me, I guess.

but hope? can I hope in the future of Kenya? can I believe that we will find the right people to work for Visible Grace? that we will find parents who will raise up Godly children? that these children will be able to avoid the pressure to conform to the foolish action of their peers?

dare I hope that they really will make a difference in their nation?

I have to.

we have the faith to hope in love. this has become my mantra.