This Wild Journey

These days are filled with uncertainty for all of us. Our concerns range from as serious as will my family and I survive this virus to how long am I going to have to live without cheese and yogurt? Here at Tenwek we remain with no positive Covid-19 cases that we know of as I write this. We praise the Lord for that! Yet we know it may only be a matter of time. We are not on total lockdown now, but are not permitted to gather in groups larger than 10, and also not allowed to travel to the larger cities in Kenya. The hospital staff are constantly preparing and praying.

Last week was Holy Week. A week to ponder again what Jesus went through, what He stood for, and what He did for us on the cross. In my thinking and praying and reading recently, I have been urged again to a word that has come up for me a lot this year: steadfast.

Steadfast means to be firmly fixed or established, constant, resolute or steady; immovable. Christ was steadfast in His journey to save us, and He remains steadfast as He sits at the right hand of God, always interceding for us. God’s love is steadfast. He can never love us any more or any less than He does right now. No matter what.

In Colossians 1 it says that Christ “holds all things together.” It also says that He has reconciled us, when we trust in Him as our Savior, and He presents us completely blameless and above reproach (as in, sinless) to the Father if we remain steadfast and stable in the faith, holding fast to the hope of the gospel of Jesus Christ. That word “if” is tricky. I don’t think God is saying we have to work to keep our salvation, not at all. He has completely finished all the work there is to be done. But I think God is showing us that steadfastness is important. We can only be steadfast and remain steadfast as we exercise our faith and hold fast to Truth. Though I often feel weary and worn out in this life, I can be made to be steadfast as I cling to Christ.

In this time of uncertainty, what are we clinging to? What are we hoping in? I feel forced to ask myself this daily. Is it safety? Or science? Or masks? Or social distance? Or the promise of a day without quarantine when we can do and go and be as we want to again?

I desperately want to remain steadfast. To be immovable in my hope in Christ, not in anything else. I want for Him to be enough, because He is. He is completely sufficient to carry me through. Steadfast.

He made peace by the blood of His cross. That peace can never be taken away or destroyed. Let us live to give Him glory no matter what tomorrow holds.

“Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts…and be thankful.” ~Colossians 3:15

Some days are such chaos around here. Tom is at the hospital early, and could be there all day and throughout the night at times. I’m here holding down the fort with discipline, school and managing hot water leaks, chickens pecking each other, cows in the yard, or whatever other various issues come my way in a day. He occasionally makes it home for lunch and might walk in the door to find me with my head in my hands, desperately pleading for mercy or wisdom for a certain situation with a certain child. Then he might tell me of the family that he had to counsel because their healthy-last-week teenage daughter is now about to die. There’s nothing else that can be done, and they’re not real sure why. Or he might relay a story of spending hours of his morning resuscitating babies born premature, and against all odds, but because of God’s mercy, they are surviving.

This dichotomy might not be that different from families in the states where one spouse is working in the medical field, but somehow it seems more intense here. Just the brokenness all around. The spiritual warfare that is so evident. The devil doesn’t like what we’re doing. He wants to increase the chaos at every turn. He wants me to feel guilty or like I’m not doing something that matters as much as the life and death decisions and situations in the hospital. He wants Tom to feel depleted, like he’s not really doing any good at the hospital or at home. But we have to stand on something that is greater. We have to believe that whether children are dying or rebelling, their souls always matter and God is at work. Whether it is trudging through a writing assignment while trying to instill integrity and diligence, or desperately searching for that unit of blood needed to save the life of a baby, let us not grow weary of doing good. Let us trust that the Lord reigns, we need Him, and He is our wisdom, our hope, and our Rock.

My soul often cannot help but feel the turmoil of this place. The intensity sometimes feels crippling and I long for His peace. But I am learning and relearning to give thanks in all things, to live one moment at a time, and to let the peace of Christ rule even when it feels like all might crumble.

Our family cannot be more thankful for your continued prayers and support as we press on, trusting Him for the souls of our children and the people of Kenya that He puts in our path.