We are back in Kenya.  This is our third time to arrive as a family and by far the most difficult. And I don’t know why.  We knew what to expect this time, we had been looking this way the whole of the last year, but we spent the first several days here in a funk.

Thank you to all who were praying, because we needed it!  Maybe we let ourselves get too spoiled by our year in America:  the kindness and generosity of friends, the ready availability of any and everything, the ease of doing most things… All I know is that the first (second, third, and fourth) lukewarm showers when the bathroom was already 60 degrees, the inability to “run to the store” or grab McDonald’s while busy with the settling in process, the difficulty in explaining what you need to the fellow at the hardware store, the cold, damp sheets on the bed at night, the dirt that gets everywhere (especially on four year old children), even the lack of electrical outlets in the “right” places all just drove me crazy!  I guess God wanted to remind me of just how petty and selfish I can be and how I need to rely on Him in EVERYTHING.  There are much bigger issues at hand and I hope I’m ready to give my energy to those instead.

And we do have a wonderful house, again with a breathtaking view of the Rift Valley. We have a nice central location on the campus and there are loads of gardens for me to tend. Ben & Kate are loving all the fellow pre-schoolers here. The older boys are settling in and are glad to be back.

The above words were written 2 weeks after arriving.  And we have settled in now.  The showers are usually hot, the sheets aren’t always damp,  I’m regaining my cooking style and ability to stay stocked up on the things I need to make a complete meal, and I’ve generally relaxed into being able to go with the flow (or non-flow) of life in a developing nation.

That was until Friday.  Then it all hit me again. Within 30 minutes of each other I got 2 very disturbing pieces of news.

First, I received an email telling me that my step mom, whom I love dearly, had a stroke.  It was not a major stroke, she is back home and is recovering well.  But the helplessness of being 10,000 miles away when someone you love is ill, is not an easy thing to deal with.  And my still-fresh American sensibilities tell me that I should have access to information right now and in a very personal and continuing manner. I have called and talked with my sister, but you have to figure in time differences and wait till people are awake and available, and when I spoke with her she hadn’t yet talked with my dad, yet it was a $10 phone call. And then you hate that you are counting dollars, but you have to and so it’s not easy.

The second piece of news was that Theresa’s husband (Theresa works for us 5 days a week and is like a part of the family) had been taken by the police and was in jail for something he didn’t do. Here is the story in a nutshell:  A little over a week ago a man in the village where she lives was suspected of robbery by the police.  They went to his house in the middle of the night, woke him and started beating him.  He tried to flee so they shot him and killed him.

The people in the village believed the man to be innocent and so were outraged at what the police had done.  A group of them, feeling they had no recourse through lawful means, took things into their own hands and went to the police station and burned it. The police station compound shares a wall with the compound of the little place where Theresa and Michael and their 3 year old daughter Maureen live. The next day Theresa came to work rather shaken by what had happened.  Michael is a night guard here at RVA and was at work that night so she and Maureen were alone while a group of men were breaking windows and burning the police station. Then, the police arrived and started shooting.  Fortunately no one was killed, but the whole village is scared and unsettled.

About 3 days after this, in the middle of the night, the police started knocking at doors and rounding up men who they thought had done it.  They came to Theresa’s door, after breaking down the gate to the compound, and asked for Michael.  She told them he was at work and had been on the night of the burning too.  They asked where he worked, she told them and they came down to RVA at 4 am and took Michael off to jail after roughing him up. He has been there since 4am on Friday morning.  The missionary who oversees the guards has seen Michael and talked with the police, but since their evidence against him is non-existent, anything we say appears to be non-existent too.

The injustice of the situation is just unreal to my American mind. The helplessness of Theresa hurts so much. This shouldn’t be happening!  And no matter what the verdict from the trial he will probably have to pay a heavy fine just to be released from jail. I’ve been very angry and frustrated and wondered how one can bear such injustice…

Then the Lord reminded me that His own son bore such injustice all the way to the cross. And because He did, we can appeal to him even under the most unjust and corrupt situations. So if you would, please join us in appealing to the Righteous Judge on Michael’s behalf.  We will keep you posted and anticipate the Lord being glorified even in such an unlikely circumstance.

Thank you for sharing in our burdens. I hope our next missive will contain joys to share.

Nancy

PS  I’ve just talked with Theresa and things have gotten worse.  He was detained after a brief court session and told to get a lawyer.  He will go to court in 2 weeks and faces 15 years in prison if convicted.  Please pray for justice…