It has been a while since I wrote and there has been lots to write about. We’ve had a very full and wonderful couple of weeks with a liberal sprinkling of Kenyan moments.

There was our wonderful and unique trip to the Indian Ocean. It was a great trip, with beautiful scenery: white, white sandy beaches, turquoise waters, rainbow colored fish, restful palms swaying in the breezes and even a view of Mt. Kilimanjaro from the road, wonderful family times, alternating times of swimming and resting, super-fresh seafood, and a road trip that will make anything we ever take in the states seem like a pleasure drive on Sunday afternoon! Actually the road trip wasn’t as bad as we thought it was going to be, but then our road expectations are pretty low these days!

On returning home the boys and I helped deliver maize to the churches in the valley. What a wonderful time. This time I spoke some Kiswahili and that was neat to be able to communicate a bit better. We visited 5 churches, a Masai, a Turkana, and 3 Kikuyu. To those of you who have contributed to Famine Relief, a very big thank you. They were so grateful. The Turkana church sang their thanks to us. A humbling and special time.

On Christmas Eve we caroled and delivered Food Bags containing a variety of staple foods plus a kilo of meat to widows, single mothers and the elderly in the immediate area. That was my favorite part of Christmas this year. Many of the people openly wept in gratitude. And all expressed their thanks to God-they knew He was the actual Provider. What a privilege to be God’s delivery crew.

Christmas day was a very nice day with one shadow. I was responsible for the turkey for a gathering of 4 families. I bought a home raised turkey and forgot to inquire its age. When I looked at it I thought “Uh-oh”. But as it was just hours until eating time, I cooked it. Well, to make a long, sad, tough story short-it was pretty much inedible. I cried in the bathroom for 30 seconds then made the first (of many) jokes about it_ the moral of this story is: store-bought turkeys are better.

Another experience this week, which made me grateful all over again for this time in Africa, was when Matthew asked me about one of his friends. His friend, Josh, is a Kenyan boy who was adopted by a white, missionary family here who had already raised their first 5 kids. Josh has another adopted Kenyan brother named PhilPhil. Matthew asked me why Josh’s parents were so old. I said, “Well, you know Josh is adopted and his parents were already older when they adopted him.” Matthew responded with wide-eyed surprise, “Josh is adopted?!? I didn’t know that. What about PhilPhil? Is he adopted too?” I’m so glad that Matthew is “colorblind”.

As I write to you for the last time in this millennium, I send my love and prayers. May you know the one who holds everything in his hands in a deeper way than ever before.

Nancy