Jim Hoeksema is leaving Africa next week.

You’ve never heard of him. When he returns to the states, no one will be waiting for him at the gate with posters and no band will play. He wouldn’t want anybody to do that anyway. But he is a true hero, and I wanted someone to know that besides me.

Jim is from Iowa, and looks it. You would never know that he is a Ph.D. in Applied Sciences and a professor at a college. It’s not that he doesn’t appear bright; he just doesn’t call attention to himself. But he is responsible for making the technical part of this place run, and he has to do it with unskilled labor and uncertain materials. But I have never heard him complain, not once. And this place runs great because of his work.

In his `spare’ time, Jim built a church in his backyard for a Masai group in the valley. He then brought it to the valley, and assembled it. He built the benches for it also. If you knew what he and his wife lived on, you would be shocked, but even with that, he regularly delivers food that he has purchased with his own money. And he has that rare gift of helping someone without hurting their dignity and injuring their spirit.

He has been here for several years, and it’s time for him to go back. One of his daughters is reaching high school age, and he needs to prepare. And part of this life is people come and go. But it still hurts, and I am going to really miss Jim.

I once skipped worked to watch a Cowboys victory parade and screamed myself hoarse. So I hope you will indulge me yelling about a real hero, someone who has given and given, at great personal and financial sacrifice, without ever making any noise about it. Next week PEOPLE magazine will feature who the latest hero is on their cover, because they have a TV show or a hit record. I feel so lucky that I got to know a real one.

The Joyful Noises had raised enough money to buy three bags of maize, so we went off to deliver some of it to the community. Our hope was to help people, but to also impact little boys about the reality of life for most people here.

Kenya women carry large weights on their backs. I’ve never seen a man do it, but Kenya woman will carry up to 150 pounds on their backs, walking up and down hills. We saw a lady we knew walking with sticks for a fire, and I asked if our guys could carry it for her.

It took four of them. And they didn’t get very far. That night, when I put JT to bed, he said `Dad, I’ll never look at those ladies the same.’

We delivered food to people whose homes are smaller than cubicles I’ve had in the states. One woman was old, blind, crippled (her feet curled up) and her tiny home had the most horrible odor I can remember anywhere. After we gave her the food, she wanted to pray with us. At the end of the prayer, one of us commented that she really loved God. She smiled and said `Completely.’

That same day I had whined about a bug in the AR system, complained that we were out of strawberries, snapped at one of the kids, and spoke poorly about a friend I hadn’t heard from. As we left her house, all I had done that day came flooding back to me.

I came to see Africa, but Africa makes me see myself, as I really am. It’s not a pretty picture.

YOP

S