I grew up in Montana. Beautiful, wild, wonderful Montana.  Rivers, mountains, valleys, wide open spaces, and fresh clean air.

Thus moving to the busy, crowded, dirty, loud city of Nairobi, Kenya has proved to be quite the transition.  Enter the grace of God.  It is only through His goodness that I have been able to adapt to this place and enjoy it too.  Never the less, some city escapes are required for former country girls to stay sane.  Good thing Kenya boasts endless opportunities for recreation and exploration!

On Good Friday, some friends and I decided to take advantage a particularly close attraction, Mount Longonot.  The mountain is actually a dormant volcano in the floor of the Great Rift Valley.  The top blew off a long time ago, leaving a vast crater.  It’s a good hardy day hike, especially if you decided to go all the way around the crater after you summit the rim.  If you find yourself with the chance to hike Mt. L, do it, the whole thing, totally worth it!

My "partners in climb" haha... Naomi and Jenny

We kept a keen eye out for wildlife and were rewarded with sightings of giraffe, zebra and lizards! No cape buffalo, thank goodness!

Our TINY chameleon friend, found on the trail.

Allllllmost to the top!

The crater! A huge forest is at the bottom, and I'm almost certain that it is full of dinosaurs and strange beasts!

Making the loop around the rim of the crater with Lake Naivasha in the distance.

Feelin' strong at the top of the peak on the far side of the rim! Whew!

Thorns everywhere! What a reminder of Christ and His suffering on Good Friday.

A great day with great ladies!

I just turned 24… in Africa.  Crazy.

This was my first birthday away from home, and to be honest I was anxious about it.  A few weeks earlier, the first major pangs of homesickness started to hit.  I was sitting on a friend’s porch when I called my sister to wish her a happy 30th birthday.  She answered and I could hear the lively cacophony of a busy restaurant in the background; laughter, music, the clink of dishes and silverware.  Then I heard several variations of “Bess?”, “Is that her?”, “In Africa?!” “Hi Bess!!”… my parents and all of her friends shouted their hellos from the table.  It was a quick sweet call.  A few days afterward I opened my inbox and found photos from my mom from their trip to see Hannah and celebrate her birthday.

My beautiful sister Hannah in Portland, OR

It was so good to see, but I also felt really far away.  I felt like I missed out.

We always celebrate my birthday with a party at my folks house in Montana.  I like parties, the bigger the better.  And I really like people, the more the merrier.  I’ve been called a “Birthday Diva”, and that’s ok because it’s true… I LOVE birthdays, especially my own.  March 21st is the first day of spring, the official turn of bitter winter to the season of new life.  This date can be tricky in Montana though, winter can still be holding on, or the snow may have yielded to sunshine and new buds.  We always pray for sun.  My dad lights the charcoal grill, and we pack the house with friends.  Everyone talks, eats, and laughs into the night.  Sometimes a friend will bring an instrument and bless us with music as the light fades.  It’s my kind of celebration.

But what would that look like here in Kenya?!  I’ve only been here for six months, I don’t have a grill, and I don’t have my family or any of my old friends from home here with me.  I found myself longing for home, for my familiar, for my birthday tradition.

Cue the family of God.  I woke up on the morning of the 21st to an invitation to coffee from my sweet friend Sharday.  Upon opening my front door, I found streamers and signs from my incredible neighbors!

Please notice the drawing of my cat jumping over my car! Thanks Silas, Micaiah, and Allison!

They snuck over and put them on without me noticing!  Such a great surprise.  After coffee I walked into the office to even more streamers, treats and love from more neighbors!

My decorated office, yay!

After a great skype call (and dance) with my best friend Mo in Seattle, my co-workers and neighbors then took me out to lunch (Chinese, yep they have Chinese food here!).  Afterwards my friend Jenny called and asked me to dessert!

Fruit tart and blueberry cake with Jenny... before and after.

After a food-coma induced nap, I walked over to my neighbors (The wonderful Levander family) for dinner!  They went all out with deep dish pizza and boston creme pie with sprinkles!

Silas and Micaiah, my birthday ninjas!

Heart, and stomach full, I logged onto skype and chatted with my brother Sam in Chile, my sister in Oregon, and my parents in Montana.  Hearing those familiar dear voices from home was just what I needed to cap off a very good day.  I felt so much love, even from across the world.  But the fun was far from over.  On weekend, a few friends and I went to the elephant orphange just outside of Nairobi and got to see those pachyderms up close and personal… so wrinkly!

Elephants after their mud-bath

Afterwards it was time for a… BBQ!  My favorite!  A bunch of friends came over with, an old-school grill showed up, and we started cooking, eating and enjoying the evening.

The men, doing what men do...

Cake and singing... just before the attack!

The night concluded with a fair bit of mischief, in-which I was pelted with water-balloons to honor my “bath-day”.  Apparently it is a Kenyan tradition to throw water onto the b-day person to “wash” them for their new year.  If you look close you can see a little yellow piece of water balloon stuck to my shirt… I’ll get you guys back!

These trouble makers made sure I got soaked! My Kenyan brothers: Phil, Ezekiel, and Jacktone

A fun, soggy time was had by all.  Thanks friends, new and old, state-side and Africa-side, for making my birthday really really great!

But not just a still, quiet peace…

Contained within shalom is a tapestry of meaning.  Threads of safety, soundness, tranquility, prosperity, perfectness, rest, harmony, and the absence of discord are woven together into completeness, wholeness, and fullness.  The result of shalom is enemies reconciling, injustice disappearing, wounds healing, fears ebbing away and communities being restored.  It is a loaded, rich peace.

Shalom is not the sort of thing typically associated with the Democratic Republic of the Congo.

Dusty streets of Bunia, DRC

Instead war, rape, poverty, violence, tribalism, disease, injustice, and unrest are lashed together into a crude picture that represents the Congo in many of our minds.  True, these things have taken place in the Congo, and sadly are still happening to this day.

But there are also echoes of shalom, unexpected patches of peace, sparks of deep love and joy… like the millions of bright pricks of light in the dark night sky.

Sunset in Bunia, DRC

The media team and I went to the DRC to see just what God was up to in swiftly growing school called Shalom University.

Flying over Lake Victoria

The campus is located in a rough town in north-east DRC called Bunia.  It is a place of dust, razor wire, and UN troops.  This city has seen a lot.  These people have been through more turmoil than I will ever know.  War, tribal strife, mass looting… the list of unspeakable hardship goes on and on.  During one of the conflicts, the school became home to more than 1500 refugees, holed-up in classrooms, offices, and the chapel.  Miraculously, the school remained unlooted and on the whole, undamaged by rebels and troops.  The same could not be said for the rest of the town.  Now Shalom University is growing exponentially; nearly 900 students are flooding the campus.  We went to tell this story, to see how shalom is catching fire, and to witness it spreading.

Professor Witmer walks through campus

God is up to something in the Congo.  Something big, something beautiful… He is urging His children in the DRC to spread shalom, to be peace-makers.  He is using this school in Bunia to send out solid, servant-hearted leaders into the Congo.  Into business, into agriculture, into ministry… they are bringing sparks of change, and becoming ambassadors of peace.

There is evidence of shalom here, the fingerprint of the Creator of peace is all over this place. It is on the faces of sweet light-hearted children, in the melodies of Congolese choirs practicing at dusk, within tight community gatherings, upon the eager minds of the students as they soak up knowledge, and resting on the distant mountains, hazy and glowing orange in the setting sun.

Light will always overcome darkness.  Always.  I am so grateful to have seen a slice of Congo.  True, it is a tough place.  But it is also a place of surprising beauty, full of people that God’s heart burns for. I pray that one day I will see more of this country… and witness just how deeply peace can take root.

Congolese mama and her children

Bananas at the market

Waiting to mud the chicken coop

Dried fish, yum.

Market ladies, selling everything from peppers to nail polish

Community water tank

Sorting beans for dinner

Before church

Camera v. Camera

Outside of a rural church

Sweet girls living in campus housing

Sugarcane snack

Campus housing at dusk, three families to a building

But the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure;

then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere. 

 Peacemakers who sow in peace reap a harvest of righteousness.

James 3:17-18

“Sometimes you get tired, but the joy remains,” said Elicah as she reclined on the couch and closed her eyes.  Insects filled the night with their symphony, and the last dregs of black tea floated in our mugs.  I had asked her what it is like to be “Mama” to so many, including me.  Never have I met a woman with a more joyful, servant’s heart.  Every year new daughters from America, and sons from the slums of Kenya come into her fold… there is always room for more.  I have a lot to learn about love  and servanthood from Elicah Wetindi.

Tired but joyful.  I would say that perfectly sums up my December.

Tana and I shared an adventuresome roadtrip to visit nearly 100 rural Kenyan kids in the hills of Machakos, where we planted trees together, danced, sang and prayed with nearly 100 children.  Priceless.

On-Field Media took a field trip to the mountains of Kijabe, Kenya to do some filming.  I and three families (+kids) hiked into some hotsprings and gathered footage for a film we are working on.  Monkey calls, a distant waterfall, and views of the Great Rift Valley far below…not bad for a day at the office!

Christmas came swiftly, but thanks to 80+ degree weather, incredibly caring neighbors, and a healthy dose of Christmas cookies, I didn’t find myself feeling too terribly homesick.  I was able to spend Christmas Eve caroling with all my neighbors in a packed joy-filled living room.  I then was invited to sleep over with a wonderful missionary family, and woke up to giggles of delight from their two small sons as they ran downstairs on Christmas morning.  The beauty of Jesus was magnified this season, and I sat back an marveled at the gift.

I found myself the recipient of incredible generosity once more on the day after Christmas.  My Kenyan host family from 2009, the Wetindi’s, invited me to stay at their “upcountry” home in RURAL western Kenya.  Kenyans who live in the city often have a rural home where they were raised/where extended family remains.  During the holidays the city practically empties as Kenyans head “upcountry.”  Lugari is a place where the day seems to slide by slowly, where maize grows high, red dirt roads stretch ever long through fields, and there is always one more cup of tea to be had.  7 hours on a bus, 1 hour on a mini bus, and 1 hour on a piki (motorcycle) will get you there in time for the sun to set.  For five days I enjoyed long walks, fresh produce, meat, and milk, no running water, gorgeous countryside, curious kids shrieking “mzungu!!” (white person!), star-filled night skies, and fresh clean air.  Every night found me collapsing into bed, completely exhausted but heart full to the brim.

Thank you Tana, team mates, neighbors, and Wetindi family & friends for making December truly incredible.

Planting a tree in Machakos, Kenya

Kijabe, Kenya

Tea time!  Kenyan chai = black tea, whole milk, and sugar

Elicah Wetindi, aka my Kenyan Mama. Lugari, Kenya

Obed and Joseph. Lugari, Kenya

Joab brought us fresh bananas from the river. Lugari, Kenya

1, 2, 3 kiddos on a bike

Joseph, Nico, David, Joab, Rozy,and  Benard sharing a funny moment.  Good people, wonderful friends.

Apparently I looked strange, haha.

Tree farmer & family. Lugari, Kenya

Walking home before the rain. Lugari, Kenya

Joyful friend Joab. Lugari, Kenya

Gathering wood by the river. Lugari, Kenya

Roy, neighborhood kids and grain for porridge

Nightfall in Lugari, Kenya

Piga Picha (can I take your photo)?  All smiles.

So young, so strong

Roasted maize under the stars. Delicious. Lugari, Kenya

Sunrise in Lugari, Kenya.

I’ve been feeling thankfulness well up in great springs lately.  It’s overflowing actually.  I’m sitting here in my little apartment on a Sunday evening, tea in hand, just thinking about how well I have been taken care of.

I have a home with windows, doors, a bed and a proper toilet.  I have running water AND electricity.  I have trees and flowers right outside.  I have neighbors who know my name, and even want to know my story.  They invite me over for home cooked meals AND send me home with Christmas decorations to put up in my place.  I even have a cat.

I work with people who are so passionate about seeing others come to know the love of God, that they left everything easy and familiar, and came to this foreign land.  To Africa.

Living here is hard.  It just is.  The power went out for 12 hours yesterday, I still can’t figure out where all those ants are coming from, and the crappiest blender here cost me $42.  I keep stumbling over simple Swahili with the gate-guards, cab drivers, new friends, waiters, my host family, anyone Kenyan really.  I always have a nagging sense of being seen as a walking $ sign, which is confirmed by the street kids who follow me to the grocery store asking for money/candy/my shoes/anything they can get.  Last weekend I had to say goodbye to one of my closest friends out here before she walked into the airport to catch her flight back to the States.  And to top off my pity party… Christmas is only week and I will be an ocean and several time zones away from my family for the first time.  Yeah, it’s hard.

But it is also surprisingly beautiful.   Shaking your fist at traffic on a busy highway leading out of Nairobi only to look to your left and see 11 giraffes just munching on acacia trees. Being the only single 20-something at a salad-potluck (with just lame carrot sticks to offer), only to be embraced, included, and loved.   Running through the rain in downtown Nairobi with a Kenyan friend, and not being able to describe why you can’t stop laughing and why you don’t care that your shoes are soaked. Tagging along on a random road trip, and finding yourself on a red dirt road in the middle of nowhere watching nearly 100 rural Kenyan kids running toward you, screaming and giggling. Holding hands with women who had served long, tough years in creative-access nations far away, where they couldn’t even breathe the name of Jesus, and watching them cry as they were able to freely and loudly sing O Holy Night in a safe living room.

Count your blessings, name them one by one,

count your and see what the Lord has done.

Count your blessings name them one by one

And it will surprise you what the Lord has done.

We sang that song in church today.  It was hot, 80 degrees in December, and the building was overflowing with hundreds of dancing, praising Kenyans.  Swaying shoulder to shoulder with them, I wondered why I got to be there too.  Small town, middle class, 5’5”, 23 year old, Caucasian-as-they-come Bess Brownlee… sweating, singing and dancing in a huge African church.  Why do I get to live this story?

Lord you have assigned me my portion and my cup

You have made my lot secure.

The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;

Surely I have a delightful inheritance.

Psalm 16:5-6

I don’t know why I get this opportunity, but I do know that I could never say thank you enough times.  It is a privilege to be here.  Even when street cats fighting outside my window again, and my tap water comes out slightly brown.  Thank you for this life Lord, help me not to waste it.

Merry Christmas everyone, I love you and miss you very very very much.

I have a mailing address! If you wanna make a Montana girl in a big African city smile, send your hand-written love here…

Bess Brownlee 
c/o OFM
Box 21171
AIM International Services
Wilson Airport
Nairobi, Kenya 00505

(it is best not to send anything bigger than a manila envelope, or else it probably won’t get to me… and if it does, I will have to pay big bucks to pick up a package, boo!)  It will take about two weeks for mail to get to me from the states.

Miss and love you all!!

“Give us today, our daily bread…”

I have literally prayed this prayer for years in church (you know, as part of the Lord’s Prayer) but have had literally no idea what it meant until I got to Africa.  Well hold on to your baguettes, things just got gluten-y over here!

Food goes bad quickly here in Africa.  I think is must be the lack of preservatives and processing, because my milk got lumpy within 4 days.  Whew, that was a lovely surprise.  This reality, on one hand, makes food much better for you.  It is fresher, and hasn’t been messed with as much.  But on the other it means you have to be a smart shopper and use the fresher stuff up within a few days, unless you really like moldy cheese…and meat… and bananas.  I’m not used to weekly, and sometimes daily shopping.  I like to stockpile, to only worry about groceries a couple times a month.  Well that just won’t fly here… I’ve got the chunky milk to prove it.

The future tends to freak me out, yet I choose to let my thoughts reside there.  I start thinking about tomorrow, which turns quickly into the following week, next month, and before you know it I’m agonizing over what is going to happen 10 years down the road.  Who needs a time machine when you have my grey matter?! My mind easily rockets to the future, or slips into dwelling in the past, yet it seems unsatisfied to abide in the present, in the moment, in the good stuff goin’ on right now.  I try to spiritually/emotionally/physically stock-pile for the future and become blind to how God has been providing for me, day by day.

Coming to Africa was hard.  There were (and still are) so many unknowns.  What will my home be like?  Can I really do this city thing?  Will I fit into my team well?  What about living alone?  Driving on the other side of the road?  A new language?  Malaria?  Water?  Is that a slug?!  It’s a lot for a girl from rural Montana to take in.  But everyday, there has been exactly enough bread.  Just what I needed.

When pulled up to my apartment for the first time, this hand-drawn sign was on the door…

It’s the little things really.  Small bursts of God’s goodness and love for me, presented in new ways each day.  A quick encouraging email.  An invite to go play volleyball, eat pizza and meet new people.  A verse on a slip of paper addressing just what I ended up needing later in the day.  A backyard BBQ complete with sloppy joes and sodas in glass bottles.  A handmade red-beaded bracelet from a sweet child.  Staying up late and talking about tough but beautiful times in life with a new friend.

He has proven Himself enough, every day… often in unexpected ways.  I am learning to relax, say thank you for my bread, and enjoy it with my God.

 “Two things I ask of you, LORD; 
   do not refuse me before I die: 
Keep falsehood and lies far from me; 
   give me neither poverty nor riches, 
   but give me only my daily bread. 
 Otherwise, I may have too much and disown you 
   and say, ‘Who is the LORD?’ 
Or I may become poor and steal, 
   and so dishonor the name of my God.”

Proverbs 30:7-9

I’M HERE!  AHHHHHH!  Many hugs, pounds of luggage, inflight movies, and tiny-weenie airplane bathrooms later I touched down in Kenya!  All of our luggage made it too… well mostly.  Turns out Delta doesn’t think very highly of iMacs traveling to Africa… they flat out refused to check my computer in it’s neatly and (very) securely packed box.  Beasts.  After some very ugly crying at the check-in counter I accepted defeat and handed my other arm iMac over to AIM in Atlanta for safe-keeping.  Still fannaggling (yup, I said it) a way to get it here, by the end of Oct, but it looks like it might work out.  Keep that in your prayers, I can’t really do my job with On-Field Media without it…eeee.

Any who, all 13 of us new full-termers (those of us that will be in Africa for 2+ years) and 6 kiddos stumbled out of Jomo Kenyatta airport in Nairobi late on the 30^th of September.  Praise God.  The familiar smells of the city met my nose; diesel, body, sweat, fast food, and trash.  A cacophony of shouts, horns, wheels, music greeted my ears, all bringing the Nairobi I experienced two years ago back to center stage.  I’m in Africa.  This is going to be my home.  Whoa.

We spent a few days recovering (sleeping) at an AIM run guesthouse tucked away behind walls draped with flowering vines.  Mayfield.  A little refuge in a bustling city. A constant flow of missionaries surged through Mayfield everyday… each bringing their own tales from all over Africa.  What a place. Our group grew there, as new full-term brothers and sisters from the Brazil, England, Canada joined us for Africa Based Orientation (ABO)

While at Mayfield I was kidnapped several times… don’t worry Mom, it was people I knew!  Fellow Nairobi missionaries Tana and Michelle took me out for lunch (who knew they had sushi in Kenya?!) and frozen yogurt (didn’t even know that existed here!)  I think I experienced Western culture shock instead of African.  I am looking forward to getting to know these sassy ladies more, as well as discovering this crazy city.  The next day I got to sit-in on On-Field Media’s (OFM) weekly project update/devotional/prayer meeting.  It was surreal to be sitting in the offices I had been working for over a year to get to… to meet the team that I had only emailed/Skyped, and to hear all about their recent filming adventures (eh hem, Madagascar!)   They also took me to experience Ethiopian food, which did not disappoint.

Still fighting jet-lag, we stuffed ourselves into two vans and headed 2 hours out of the city for ABO in Machakos, Kenya.  Our orientation is being held at a bible college, full of energetic and welcoming Kenyan students.  Jacaranda trees with purple blossoms, thorny acacias, and extremely loud birds fill the campus, which stretches out near the base of high terraced green hills.  Oh and fresh air, glorious fresh air which the city seriously lacks.  Red dirt sticks to our shoes, and stray thorns have already maimed a few skirts… good thing I packed that sewing kit, eh mom?  The food has been delicious; chapati (Kenyan tortillas), savory meat stews, sautéed sukumawekee (shredded kale with onions), oranges, papaya, and bananas.  And  chai… don’t forget the endless chai!

ABO lasts for three weeks, with the goal of orienting us to African culture, living, ministry, communication and much more.  It has only the third day of ABO and my mind is heavy with information!  Yesterday I had the extreme privilege of hearing everyone’s stories of how God brought them to Africa.  Needless to say, laughter was abundant, as were tears.  All of our journeys have been laden with adventure, surprise, hardship, and hope, with a call to a life of purpose singing strongly over everything.  And this is just the beginning.  My heart is already squeezing at the thought of saying goodbye to all of these beautiful new friends at the end of our three weeks.  We will scatter to every corner of Africa in a few short weeks… thank the Lord for Skype.

I miss all of you so much.  Leaving home has felt like ripping up lots of deep roots… Montana has been my home, my world, my normal for so long.  It is my prayer that God will plant me in good soil here in Africa, and that I would grow and thrive here, flowering and growing fruit in every season.  It is a privilege and gift to come back to Africa.  I know there will be dry spells, and fierce storms to stand strong through, but I am comforted by the knowledge that I have a constant gardener… who will never stop tending His little tree.

 “But blessed is the one who trusts in the LORD, 
   whose confidence is in him. 
They will be like a tree planted by the water 
   that sends out its roots by the stream. 
It does not fear when heat comes; 
   its leaves are always green. 
It has no worries in a year of drought 
   and never fails to bear fruit.”

Jer. 17: 7-8

That’s all I have left in Montana!!  BAH!

I can’t believe this is all happening.  I can’t believe I sent in my last packet of $$ support yesterday.  Or that I learned to ride a motorcycle this weekend, AND got in and out of the DMV in 40 minutes.  I can’t believe that so many of my beloved friends came out to my house and hugged me till my ribs (nearly) cracked.  I can’t believe we went through more than 60 burgers.  I can’t believe I watched my best friend drive away as the sun came over the mountains, and knowing we wouldn’t see each other for many months.  I can’t believe that my life will soon be packed into four bags.  I can’t believe that next week I will be IN AFRICA.

My head can’t believe it.

But my heart can.  Because God is that wild.  Because He has been making a way for us to have this adventure together since before I was even born.  Because He is always up to more than I can possibly fathom.  Because I’m His.

 ”My beloved is mine and I am his” 

Song of Solomon 2:16

It’s go time.  Harvest time.  Hemisphere-hoppin’ time.  New chapter time.  Time for life as I know it to get turned on its head.  Africa time.

“Have I not commanded you?

Be strong and courageous.

Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged,

for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.”

Joshua 1:9

Thank you, wonderful family of God, for walking along side me thus far… we have many miles to go, if you are willing I would love to keep sharing the journey.  Stay tuned… (next post from Africa!)

Desert to FLOOD.  Both are extreme, both are transformative, and both happened to me.

July was, well, dry dry DRY.  Spiritually, physically, emotionally, the whole she-bang.

I had done my level best to carry this Africa thing on my own.  Didn’t work.  Almost took me out in fact.  I wound up in a barren place, out of breath with a canteen full of dust.

“I will make her like a desert,

turn her into a parched land and slay her with thirst“

Hosea 2:3

Sounds about right.  This wasn’t random, it was a result of my mistrust, my unbelief, my stubbornness, and my utter lack of faithfulness in the God who created my very bones.   I have been stuck at 70% of my monthly support-raising goal for ages.  By the time July was almost spent, so was my hope of ever making it to Africa.  I know it sounds dramatic, but when you are faced with a huge wall of lack that won’t budge, things can quickly become daunting.  The forest become a desert.  As cracked, dessicant, and awful as it was, I was lead to that place for a purpose… so I would know what living water tastes like.  So that I could recognize the hand of my Provider.

 “Forget the former things;
do not dwell on the past.
See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness
and streams in the wasteland.
The wild animals honor me,
the jackals and the owls,
because I provide water in the wilderness
and streams in the wasteland,
to give drink to my people, my chosen,
the people I formed for myself
that they may proclaim my praise.”

Isaiah 43:18-21

A wonderful man named Steve Valentine always said that when we are down to nothing, God is up to something.  Well that little saying just became all kinds of real.

On July 13th, my Grandpa went on to his next big adventure, eternity with God.  My Dad and his three brothers came together from all over the country to celebrate Grandpa, and to take care of everything that is left behind after someone leaves this world.  My Grandpa was a strong, smart, caring, and generous man.  He flew planes in WWII, and collected Meerschaum tobacco pipes, loved roast beef, and was no-nonsense.  His caretakers called him “The Commander.”  When I went to Africa the first time he sent a nugget of advice along with his hefty donation… “Take some Deet, and don’t forget the Kaopectate.”  A practical man indeed.

At the very end of July, my Dad returned from the funeral and time with his brothers with some news.  Grandpa had left his entire estate to his family, and that turned out to be a lot.  Before his health declined, he had expressed wanting to be a donor for my new life in Africa.  My dad wanted to honor Lord and Grandpa, and thus committed helping open the floodgates to God’s unique plan of provision.  Not only that, but all this month, I have had new donors come out of the woodwork that I had previously written off.  God is up to something, the waters are springing up from the ground… and I am all but swimming.

With God infront of me, and the family of God beside me, I will hopefully land safely in Kenya on October 1st…. OCTOBER FIRST!!!!!!!!  AH!  That means that September 27th is my last day in Montana.  Woah.  The rains just came like a hurricane.  All I can do is stand with my arms to the skies.  I am so happy things didn’t happen the way I imagined they would… but that I was surprised by God’s unique hand.  He is up to something, the proof is in the water.

 “The poor and needy search for water,
but there is none;
their tongues are parched with thirst.
But I the LORD will answer them;
I, the God of Israel, will not forsake them.
I will make rivers flow on barren heights,
and springs within the valleys.
I will turn the desert into pools of water,
and the parched ground into springs.
I will put in the desert
the cedar and the acacia, the myrtle and the olive.
I will set junipers in the wasteland,
the fir and the cypress together,
so that people may see and know,
may consider and understand,
that the hand of the LORD has done this,
that the Holy One of Israel has created it.

Isaiah 41:17-20