The term is over, and our dorm boys have left until January. It was such a weird combination of knowing how much you will miss them, and how much you can’t wait until they leave. Two snippets of conversation overheard before they left:

1. “I don’t think I have to wear underwear at home anymore so I don’t have to pack.”
2. “I told you – all girls are ugly. She is just the least ugly.”

Right after the term ends, there is a conference for all the missionaries in the area. It lasted 5 days, and it was not something I’ve looked forward too.

I’ve always thought all missionaries were dweebs. Bad haircuts dated clothing, and droning on and on about dull stuff. If one came to my church, I always managed to volunteer in the nursery. But all I met were hard working kind people who were trying their best to help people. One night, they recognized several missionaries who were retiring. One woman got up to speak in her dated dress, bad haircut etc. and told about how one young African was very offended when the pastor had called her white, because he knew that she was African in her heart. Someone told me later that this woman was a nurse who had worked tirelessly to eliminate polio from several villages, and traveled on dangerous roads at dangerous times of the night just because she cared.

As I looked at her, and how I had judged her and people like her, I felt a shame I had never known before. Everything in me had rejected her for stupid superficial reasons, and she had given her whole life just trying to help people. And I resolved right there to always try to go beneath the surface.

And it lasted two nights. I got a call two days later to go to the hospital to give blood for a new born. The caller reminded me that most Kenyan blood was unsuitable for transfusions; it wasn’t rich enough, because most Africans diet is lacking in so many things.

But it was raining. And it was late, and we had people over. And it was 1.5 miles in the dark through mud and rain, and I went with a poor attitude.

As I walked, I got to see my terrible attitude, and myself. I had a chance to help save a baby’s life, and I was whining about it. And the terrible shame I felt the other night came back to me, and I cried about my selfishness and superficiality and prayed that the baby would be OK.

I got there, and the doctor said ” She’s doing better, and we don’t need the blood tonight. Sorry about having to come down in this storm.”

You’ve never seen a happier person walking back home in the rain. Two wake up calls in one week. Suppose someone is trying to tell me something?

YOP

S