mission

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. -Hebrews12:1-3

You’ve probably heard by now that our family enjoys animals. We have had some fun here in Kenya raising chickens. I am not a runner. But the few times I have run, I know that it is important to look ahead. It is important to look at your path, and to not avert your eyes much from that. The funny thing is, chickens do the same thing! Our kids like to sometimes take our chickens out for a chicken race. They find a starting line (usually up high so the chickens can get a flying start), and then they let them go, seeing who makes it “home” to their coop the fastest. Well, no matter where you take those chickens, they know how to run home. And they do it with purpose and precision. It’s really a sight to see!

God has been impressing on me a lot lately about running our race. And running with perseverance. Living here these past couple years has brought us to many desperate places in our family. We have had times when we have felt very weary and like we’re losing heart. We have had times we’ve struggled for joy. But I would say the constants that have helped us make it through have been God’s word and the faith of those who have gone before. The first one might seem obvious and a very Christian missionary-type thing to say. But I can’t say it enough that the Bible is my absolute lifeline. When I am sick, when I’m discouraged, when I can barely pull myself out of bed, when I feel hopeless about a child or a situation, Jesus always lifts me up through His word. When I can’t even read it, I just listen to a soothing British voice speak it to me with guitar music in the background (plug for the Dwell app).

The second constant might be a little less obvious. It has been focusing on those faithful saints who have gone before. I’ve found that reading pointed biographies has really encouraged me more than ever these past couple years. I love to read of other Christians’ “races” and how God carried them through. There are so many people with such a harder life than me, and who have had to face much more dire circumstances even in serving God outside their comfort zone! It just puts things into perspective. After I put down a book with a story of God’s faithfulness amidst the trials, I am always able to take a bit of a deeper breath, knowing that though circumstances are different, our God is still the same. Jesus Christ is the same-yesterday, today and forever. He is 100% faithful. He sees, and He cares about our every need.

So, as we prepare to pack up and leave Kenya for now, I have been reflecting on what it means to run our race. It doesn’t mean looking at the people next to me and how they may have done it better. It does mean gaining strength and encouragement from what God is and has been doing in the lives of other believers, being thankful to be surrounded by such a great “cloud of witnesses” to His mercy and grace. It means throwing off sin—maybe anxiety or insecurity, or unbelief. It means I run my race, while you run yours, and we both trust God for perseverance along the way. It means setting my mind and heart on the LORD, who has been the only one who has run this earthly race perfectly. And it means remembering all that He went through for me. I have not yet suffered as much as He did, and I can count on the fact that no matter what lies ahead, He will get me through. The purpose of my race is ultimately to point to Him.

So we may not be running for our lives like the chickens, but we can still keep our eyes fixed on our eternal home, on our perfect Savior. May we trust Him to give us the strength we need for the race He’s marked out!

Panic. Maybe it seems more so in the days and times we live in. Maybe it’s more of a “western” thing. The moments, be they big or small, of thinking things are all about to come crashing down. Overwhelm ensues. Anxiety hits. You feel like giving up. You feel like you just can’t handle any more.

And then you take a breath.

One thing I have truly noticed and taken to heart here in Kenya is the response from Kenyans, particularly Christian women, when I tell them bad or hard news.

If someone in our family is sick…”It will be well,” or “You will be well.”

If there is trouble back home…”It will be well.”

If we have to make sudden changes to our plans…”It will be well.”

As I ask for specific prayer…”It will be well.”

I’m embarrassed to say I used to sort of excuse this as a form of naivety or just talk. I would think the person wanted everything to be well, and it was just something nice to say. Maybe equivalent to “bless your heart” in the South. But after living here almost two years, I have now come to know I was wrong. I think I was the naive one.

There is such a deep sense of trust in that “it will be well” statement. It partly comes, I think, from these mamas seeing so many hard things and suffering in their lives. It most definitely comes from abiding in Christ, their Savior and Lord. Abiding means “to dwell.” How do we dwell in Christ so completely that we are not easily shaken, not easily rocked, not easily panicked when those stressful moments come? How can we live like “it will be well” even if the outcome we want or think is best isn’t what happens?

I am learning. And I’m getting plenty of practice lately, it feels like. I just came through my 4th illness (different ones) in 4 weeks. And this last one was really rough. There have been panic moments of feeling like my body couldn’t take anymore, and wondering how on earth I would protect the people around me from getting sick.

And then there is just life. The chaos of a house full of kids. The noise. The mess. The wondering if they’re going to turn out okay. Sometimes there can be panic moments of feeling like we’re not doing enough.

But…it will be well. I don’t think it’s just a way of positive thinking. It’s deeper than that.

God’s word tells us in the Psalms that He is faithful in all his words and kind in all his works. It also says that He never slumbers or sleeps. He is always working. He never stops. As Christ followers we can trust that we live in His unshakeable kingdom. He is on the throne; He is sovereign over our lives. We partner with Him, we make our choices, but His will and purposes will always prevail.*

So, I am learning from these wise and faith-filled Kenyan women. It will be well.

*Scriptures referenced: Psalms 145, 121, Hebrews 12, Psalm 47:8 and Proverbs 16:9

Sometimes in life God gives us a wake-up call, a loud circumstance that truly gets our attention and helps us evaluate. I got one of those in early August when I got sick with what I think might have been the worst illness I’ve ever experienced. One night I just didn’t feel right as I was going to bed, and the next thing I knew I was having intense chills and a feeling like all of my body’s organ systems were just completely out of whack. I tried to sleep but had such severe insomnia that I think I only slept one hour that night (and if you know me, you know I usually do not struggle with insomnia). It was like I would shut my eyes, but my brain was wide open and working overtime.

Tom and I both ended up getting tested for Covid-19 that week (he had some symptoms also), and thankfully it was negative. But the intensity in my body and spirit drug on for more days and nights. I was discouraged. I was afraid. It felt like God was trying to bring something to my attention in all this sickness and anxiety about the sickness. Maybe I wasn’t so secure and trusting in my faith like I thought I was. Maybe I wasn’t ready for “whatever could happen.”

I don’t wish an intense difficult time like this for anyone, but I will say that it has brought me closer to God and helped me release more to His control. I’ve heard it said that sometimes in our fear it’s good to just take it to the farthest place it could go. What if xyz did happen? What if the worst you can think of came to be? Would God still be God? Would He still be good? Would His steadfast love still remain? While we don’t want to think about it, the answers are yes, yes and Yes!

We are all made with forever in our hearts. We are made for eternity. This life is not all there is. As a Christian, I know that well in my head. But this has been solidified again in my heart. With all the turmoil in the world, with all the sickness—both in physical bodies and also in spirit and soul, I can trust my eternal God. He never changes. He will always be with me. I can count on Him to be stable, and to guide the way forward, even on my darkest, scariest nights. And Jesus even promises us that we are overcomers in Him. In this world we will have trouble, but we can count on the fact that He has overcome the world (John 16:33), and therefore we can too. The victory belongs to Christ!

So while it’s tempting to just go on with life and all my regular Monday mornings, and forget what God has done and how faithful He is, I don’t want to forget. I don’t want to trudge through the ups and downs. I want to claim that victory. I want to stand for truth and be faithful in my little corner of the world—to live fully, to love boldly, and to persevere in faith. He who calls us and keeps us—forever—is faithful.