**I wrote this about two
months ago, and never posted it. Now, a
few things have changed, but I will send it “as is.” Jason’s moved home to the States this past
week, so now I am going to church with Pastor Wayne, his wife Clara, and their
four children. It’s been a long time
since I have seen the bat fly through church.
Maybe he is no more, I don’t know!
Anyway, here were some thoughts that have been running through my mind…**
What is church anyway?
We go to church. So is "church" the building? Often
we do refer to church as the church building used for religious services.
Yet, church is so much more! Church is where we go to worship
God with other believers. Church is made up of other members... together
we are family!
Church here in Kenya is
most definitely different than church in America. Sometimes it is easy for me
to compare church here with church at home. However, Lela will never be
Bethany...the people at Lela will never be like the people at Bethany... and my
experiences at Lela will never be quite the same as they were at Bethany.
I have been attending Lela
CBF (Christian Believers’ Fellowship) Church with Jason & Cynthia Beachy
and their family. Recently, our routines have become far from routine
since Jason's will be leaving in several weeks and they are "training
in" our new pastor, Wayne Yoder, and his family.
Imagine with me as I
tell you a bit about Sunday mornings here... Depending on the Sunday, we
leave the compound around 8:15...making several stops to pick up ppl along the
way. Some of the folks we pick up are members at Rabuor, so we drop them
off on our way to church. Some stay in the van with us until we get to
Lela. Our van is full, but there is always room for one more. As we
near church, we pass by people who are walking to church. Jason honks his
horn, slows down, and pulls over. We all scoot together a bit tighter,
children pile onto laps, shoulders get tucked behind other shoulders, and more
ppl cram in. These are also the moments when it is quite necessary to
take a deep breath against your arm and then to hold your breath as long as
possible. It is also definitely a wise idea to strategically place
yourself at the end of the seat, so no matter how tightly you are packed
together, you still have the window on one side!! We arrive at church
around 9:00 and the dogs wistfully come begging for bones which Cynthia often
would bring for them. Our church dog pack consists of Clown, Dear Old
Man, and Captain. These poor dogs look
like they are near the end of their 9th life. All Kenyan dogs are ugly, and these are among
some of the worst.
While Jason and Cynthia
have instruction class, I attempt to feed their four children breakfast in the
van… normally baked oatmeal and milk.
After everyone is all filled up, out come the crayons & we have
Sunday School. One size fits all when it
comes to our book, so you endeavor to keep it exciting for the oldest while
explaining it as simply as possible for the youngest. Then a bit before ten, we head over to
church…We always start our services with singing, which is definitely my
favorite part of church here. Some of
their tunes are familiar, but many times, they have added slurs or thrown in
some extra notes and words. It is still
fun to see how many words I can pick out that I know. We then have a devotional and more singing. Quite frequently, the children’s teacher
doesn’t show up in time for Sunday School, or possibly doesn’t show up at
all. It somehow became the unspoken
understanding that they could always expect me to cover for her. So, quite often, I head over to teach the
children’s class. Sometimes, class is small, like the pic below. Sometimes, our benches are full and running over, and we carry more benches over for everyone. Our sermons are
normally in English, and are then translated to Luo. Afterwards, there are many testimonies and
then happy greetings after church. I
have formed the tradition of walking home with one of my friends, Lydia. She is just a year or two younger than me,
and one of the few youth girls at Lela. Usually
there are a handful of us that walk together.
Even if Lydia isn’t at church, I still walk with Florence and all the
rest of them~these girls confuse me so much, because they look WAY too much
alike and their names do NOT help!
Stefanie, Sue, Salvin, Sharon, Lina, Liz… Then Jason’s pick me up when
they go by. I love having this time to
interact with them and to hear their school stories, or what is going on in
their life.
 |
| Walking home with Lydia... "our tree" on the path... |
Often, our Sunday
mornings are full of unique experiences.
The other Sunday, Cynthia and I were trying to scoop up cowpies from our
side “aisle.” The only “shovels” we had
were rather limp pieces of dried cornstalk, so this was a bit difficult and quite
disgusting. Also, since we have no
walls, the chickens come and go as they please, birds and sometimes bats swoop
through, Clown lies down in front of me and begins to scratch at fleas, and it
is quite easy to get distracted by the ppl walking by on the road near the
church. Sometimes, the traffic gets
quite entertaining. One Sunday, there
was a fight taking place between a piki (motorcycle) driver and someone pulling
a cart. Other Sundays, big trucks rattle
by, and the preacher’s voice is drowned out.
However, it also can be really nice to not have walls. The sky is a beautiful blue with white,
fluffy clouds and it’s always great when the breeze blows through and cools everything
off. Communion here was
interesting. We had chapatis (similar to
tortillas) and grape juice. Feet washing
seemed so much more meaningful, since they had all walked dusty roads to get to
church, and the water actually got quite dirty.
Another favorite aspect
of church is the children. Even though I
can’t always keep all their names straight, I love it when they come sit beside
me during church or talk to me after church.
This little girl in the front center (Elsha) is an absolute
sweetheart. She almost always sits with
me for at least part of the service and she always melts my heart! Isn't she so darling?
No comments:
Post a Comment