Eighth grades guys can go from awkward to slick in moments. One of our dorm boys, fearing that we would tease him, would ask if he could call his sister. We would say yes, and he would call her and ask, “Can I have all your money?” She would hang up, and then he would call the eighth grade girl he really wanted to talk to.

We have short devotions in the dorm Monday through Thursday, and because they get really sick of me, I ask them who they want to come do guest devotion. They used to ask for the senior guys who are the soccer stars; now they ask for cute senior girls. At the end, I ask one of our guys to escort her home. Afterwards, the guys hover around the one who escorted the senior girl and drill him about their conversation:

THEM: What did you talk about?
HIM: Nothing.
Them: You’re lying! (Sounds of fists.)
Him: I asked her if she liked the meatloaf in the cafeteria.
Them (in frantic tones): WHAT DID SHE SAY? WHAT DID SHE SAY?
Him: She said it was ok.
Them: UNBELIEVABLE! SHE SAID IT WAS OK!

I am very glad I am no longer an eighth grade guy and even gladder that I’m not a senior girl at this school. Weird adoration would get really old. Fast.

I have a problem I need help with. In the main office, they have a little bulletin board with the staff names and titles. It goes like this:

Jim Long – Superintendent
Mark Kinzer – Dean of Students
Tim Hall – Principal
Mark Buhler – Director of Guidance
Steve Peifer – Asst

I’ve never been a title guy, but this needs work. So, I am announcing my second annual contest. Some of you might remember the ferocious competition to name a cow last year. This year: suggest a title for me that the administration will accept, and the winner will receive a Masai leather beaded belt in your size!

The rules are simple. Entries must be in by Feb 2 via email. In case of identical names, first one here wins. And the most important rule is this: the true wits among you who think that adding `BIG’ or `DUMB’ in front of my present title are NOT FUNNY.

I’ve had two detached retinas, so I have to get them checked every year. I went to Nairobi to see the laser surgeon because while Kijabe has some excellent doctors, they don’t have any eye surgeons. After the doctor looked at my eyes, he asked me the following questions:

HIM: What is this Claritin?
ME: It is a prescription allergy medicine.
Him: How often do you take it?
Me: Daily.
Him: You are addicted.
Me: I’ve never had an eye doctor comment on allergy medicine before.
Him: And you need extensive surgery.

I haven’t been having any eye issues, but I knew at this point I didn’t have warm fuzzies with him. I started looking at making the trek to go back to the States to have my eyes checked but never got serious because of the price.

Then, an old friend asked me if I was planning on attending our 30th high school reunion in July. I had heard about it, but never thought about attending. He then said he wasn’t going to go if I didn’t go, so would I be interested in a ticket from him? (Nancy says he is the nicest guy in the world; my theory is that although he is nice, he wanted the security of someone who is guaranteed to be fatter and balder than he is.)

Long story short, thanks to the kindness of an old friend; I will be in the United States for three weeks this summer. I will arrive on July 15 in Chicago, go to Texas on July 21 to have the eyes checked, and leave for Africa on August 4. If there is a way to get together, I’ll find a way to make it happen. If I can’t see you, I want to at least call you and say hi and hear voices! And, if your church is looking for an exciting missionary to speak to them, I know several I can recommend. But if that doesn’t work, I would be thrilled if you settled for me.

See you soon, and save some Mexican food for me.

Your pal,
Steve

Ben intently studying J.T.’s food!

Nancy and Katie