Appleseed Travel Journal

— Training in Nairobi

When one of our contacts sets up a gathering of new church planters we’ve not met before, it’s always exciting to see who will be there.  This was the case as we waited last Sunday for our ride to a training in Nairobi.  Pretty soon we were greeted by our friend Jimmy (of blue shirt fame) and taken through the hectic, crazy, fume-filled streets into one of the worst slums we’ve encountered.  Jimmy had rented a small cement open-air room for us to meet with men and women who live and work mostly in this area.  Now, there is a system in Africa we have grown quite accustomed to, and that is the issue of time.  There is U.S. time and there is Africa time.  For example, this morning, we were to be met at 10.  It’s now 11:30, and I am quite grateful to have the extra time for reflection and writing.  Jimmy told us that Africa has a lot more time than the U.S., and I think it’s true.  It seems here everything one wants to accomplish in one day easily happens.  For us (at least speaking for myself), we are extremely stressed, because we think we never have enough time.  Another reason why I love Africa so much.  There’s plenty of time! All of this to say, our Sunday meeting was scheduled for 9 a.m.  When we arrived at 9:30, there were a few men there and five or six women.  After singing and dancing for a while, the room was packed, with maybe 40 men and a dozen women.  It was then that each person was given the opportunity to introduce themselves and talk.  Now, for the African, this is a chance to stand up and say whatever is on your mind and heart for that day.  It could be anything…so again, the issue of time.  For Americans, would we take the time?  I doubt it.  It was so worth it, though.  When everyone had finished, I had a glimpse of each one, who they were, what they thought.  I also had a lot to say when it was finally my turn to speak! I had listened to a lot of men talk about this and that and the women, strong and confident, but clearly outnumbered, were sitting more or less content in their subservient role assigned by African culture.  Because of conversations with many Kenyan women, I have my own prejudices and frustrations, in agreement with theirs, concerning their demeaning roles and how they are treated.  This only fueled the flame when one man spoke and expressed his disappointment over the time in March, when Roger made a quick and hasty departure back to the U.S. when our son was so very close to death.  His disappointment was real in that Roger had been able to spend time in other parts of Kenya, but now due to this family crisis was not able to be with them in Nairobi.  He questioned did we not have enough faith to believe that God would heal Tim and that Roger could stay here and continue with God’s work?  No need to say, I was fuming!  This man does not represent all African men, in fact, many that we work closely have a primary commitment to their families.  But, for many other men, like this one, their priorities place wife and children at the bottom of the list. Notwithstanding this good man’s intention to honor Roger, I thought this perhaps an opportune moment to speak into the lives of the men and women present…hopefully, without offense.  I gathered my thoughts quickly and hoped for love and grace in the message.  The women, typical of others I’ve met, were strong.  One, a refugee from war-torn Uganda, another a widow, and others, others are wives who are severely neglected, and yet all of them existing, supporting, sustaining any way they can their own lives and the lives of their children.  I had to tell them how happy I was they were there.  I blessed, encouraged, affirmed and spoke of my joy and gratitude in the work of the men and how much I respected their persevering efforts.  “But,” I said, “Women, the men are doing a good, good job, but they need our help.  They have not been able to do this alone.  Thank you for what you are doing, because without us women Kenya will not be changed.  It hasn’t happened til now and without us, it won’t.”  You should have seen them jump up and clap with smiles and giggles of delight.  I then turned to the man, front row, of course, and told him how much I thanked God for Roger, his commitment to me as his wife, his commitment to our marriage.  Is it not true that “church” starts at home before we can go out and share God’s love with our neighbor?  Roger reflects this.  His faith for his son was not the question.  He had faith enough to believe that if God so desired, He would send him back to Kenya.  More importantly, when I had called and said, “Our son is dying,” he came to his side…and mine.  Did he not teach more in that moment what it means to love his wife as Christ loves the church?  Did he not reflect more to the Kenyan what it means to be the church, a disciple of Christ, than any teaching he could have done otherwise?  It is only in being loved that we can love.  I pray the women in Kenya will be so loved and respected and honored and lifted up.

— Slums See 200 New Churches in Five Months

Just a few weeks ago I wrote some of our leader-friends in Nairobi about our upcoming time together and said, “I would love to see some church planting movements begin to take place in the slum areas.”  This has been on my heart for some time! The slums of Nairobi are some of the most desperate in the world: street children abusing drugs, crime, sewage and garbage decorating the streets, and people trying to make ends meet taking the most menial jobs available if possible.  I couldn’t imagine a better place to see simple house churches multiplying and meeting both spiritual needs and providing some true empowerment! Little did I know that one of these friends I emailed, who had joined us for training in another part of Kenya last year, has already begun to see an explosion of new churches started in these slum areas since the first of this year! After our meetings today, I sat this friend down and had him outline all of the different areas where new churches had begun and describe them to me.  Most of them involve women, often widows or single mothers who are HIV positive.  With little hope in the natural world, they are finding tremendous strength by joining together in worship and spiritual growth and even reaching out to their own needy neighbors.  Many of them are already giving birth to new churches in their area.  At this moment, at least ten different slum areas have new churches bringing new life to many! I always want to remind you guys who are reading this that this is as much about you who walk with us from home as it is about anyone else!  I am amazed and grateful for what God is doing!

— The Long Journey & the Realities of Africa

While we were waiting to get on our plane, I wrote the following on Facebook: This speaks well of Brooks, of course, which many people commented on: But as for me, I guess besides being tired at 2:30 in the morning, I was focused on the first flight which would last 16 hours!  Lately we have been flying through Dubai which means you start out with a marathon flight first and then a shorter five-hour flight second.  Now, I’m not seeking sympathy here, I just want you to grasp this.  For this first flight, you get on the plane at 9:00 in the morning and at midnight that night you are still on the same plane, in the same seat on the same plane, with the same people sitting next to you on that same plane while sitting on that same seat!  And when you are 6 feet tall, there’s not a lot of room on that seat on that same plane sitting next to those same people where you are sitting from nine in the morning until after midnight!  Oh, and then there is a plane change and then another flight!  Okay, so now it’s different people, but it sure feels like the same seat and plane for another five hours. So, enough about flying. We planned a day in Nairobi just to adjust to the time change and rest ourselves before the marathon of 7 conferences in 4 weeks in 4 countries begins.  So far so good. We have traveled, now, to this part of Africa so often that many of the things that use to seem so unusual now feels very commonplace: the pungent smells of city-life-Africa, the traffic that acts like bumper cars, the black exhaust that pours out of many vehicles, the British-accented English, and the obvious lack of white faces (which, honestly, we hardly notice anymore).  There are also the many pleasantries that we now take for granted: the smiling faces, the hearty welcomes even from strangers, and the hard-to-explain sense that we are somewhere that we belong. Still, this is Africa and things take place that we just don’t expect.  This morning, on our way to our local coffee shop and internet café, a man was laying face up on the sidewalk, barely moving, with foam coming out of his mouth—an apparent seizure.  What’s difficult is that many people were walking around him not because they didn’t care but because they did not have the means to help him.  One can’t just call 911 and expect that “someone” will just take care of this so, not having the ability to pay for his care (which is what it would require to get him help), many people don’t know what else to do but leave him.  This is not a judgment, just the reality for many people who are in survival mode.  Brooks and I didn’t know how to help him either except to look for a local police officer and find out what might be available. Fortunately, by the time we walked down one block and back looking for help, a group of good citizens did come to his aid.  And, just to be clear, most people here will give their very last dime, IF they have one, to help their neighbor in need knowing that their neighbor will do the same in turn.  But, I think you get the picture that things are just different where the resources are scarcer… and that’s Africa. Welcome to our journey!

— Great Things in My Absence

For a prayer-update on our son Tim, you can download this note. The reports and love that came from Africa as I departed prematurely were very heart-warming.  It’s quite humbling to realize that effective prayers are coming from every corner of the globe!  Our friend and co-leader in Kenya wrote: “My wife and I have been getting our kids together every morning and evening to pray for you, Brooks, and your son. We rejoice to hear of the progress!” Exciting Things Took Place after My Departure 1. Training of a new team in Uganda which I know was very effective as this new team is already making an impact on their area.  One brother, working in a Ugandan refugee settlement camp has given this report:
At the present there are five new house churches already planted in the settlement with membership varying between 20 to 25 members from different nationalities which include Congolese, Sudanese and Rwandese.
2. Preparation of more leaders who are using the new Organic Development curriculum.  This will lead to more projects among the poor (vocational training and small business loans) while also helping them take responsibility to help themselves.
As one woman told one of our workers: “There are so many women suffering just because of ignorance…  We must help them to know what they can accomplish on their own or with just a little help.”
3. A meeting in Nairobi of a new team that is focusing on some larger scale initiatives for church planting throughout Kenya. 4. In my absence, our African development team has taken pictures and prepared background material  for four classrooms that we want to see built, as well as 15 vulnerable children we would like to be able to provide with food and an education. God-willing, Brooks and I hope to be able to return in May…

— Good News, a Personal Emergency, and a Miracle

The good news is that I completed the most crucial part of my trip to Africa and had just enough time to introduce the new curriculum that our leaders there will be implementing over the next few weeks.  (Our plan is to return for a longer trip in May). But, the challenging news: a personal emergency called me home. I received the call just after midnight, Wednesday morning, that our 22-year old son, Tim, who has been suffering from a form of schizophrenia, took an overdose of pills and medicines and was in critical condition in the hospital.  Thus began one of the longest trips home of my life. Since I was out of communication for much of the trip, I had no way of knowing Tim’s condition.  I had to arrange a ride, in the middle of the night, from Kitale to El Doret, Kenya, so that I could catch the early morning flight from there to Nairobi.  That was just to get me to the international airport.  I then had to re-arrange my ticket so that I could leave that afternoon and take a 5-hour flight to Dubai, wait there for 5 hours, then take the exhausting 16-hour flight to LAX.  Whew… When I arrived at the hospital in a stupor, the prognosis for Tim was still quite poor: only 25% probability of survival!  However, by later that afternoon, the doctor felt that Tim’s probability for full recovery had increased to 75% and today he has been labeled “out of the woods.”  This definitely seems nothing short of a miracle. Obviously, your prayers are appreciated for Tim as we seek the best treatment for him possible. Our team in Africa, whom I deserted so unexpectedly, has stepped in with great affection and prayers, taken responsibility for the meetings that are now taking place, and have gladly taken on many extra duties in my absence.  Please keep them in prayer as well. I will keep you updated on both fronts… It gives me great comfort to know that you are standing with us!

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