Esther Blessings

The heavy, wet rain thunders down on our tin roof as I write this letter, and all of Kenya rejoices as the short rains have finally come. Rain... a sign of blessing and a gift from God. 

Earlier today, during a brief interlude in the blessing of rain, we witnessed another gift from the hand of God pour into a small mud hut.  Esther, my lambas bagel maker and friend, (“Being Thankful” smithfaminafrica.blogspot.com) received a gift today. 

After reading her story, a friend sent some money for us to give her in whatever way we though best.  Money is a tricky thing in Kenya.  It can’t really be held onto because then it wouldn’t be shared.  It’s greedy to save.  So, if money is received, it must be spent straightaway, and it likely is spent on the immediate greatest need.  It is not important to spend it on it’s intended purpose, and it is also not necessary to spend it on the one for whom it was intended.  As you can see, we had to think hard about the best way to give this gift to her in a way that would truly bless her.  Really, we had to pray about it.

One afternoon, as I was overlooking the Rift Valley where she lives, the idea came.  What if we could buy her a stove?  Then she could prepare bagels in her own home.  We wouldn’t just be teaching her to ‘fish.’  She already knows how to do that. We’d be giving her a fishing pole.

So we did!  We found a used oven for sale and bought a propane tank to go with it.  We purchased some pots and baking sheets and enough cooking supplies to get her well on her way.  And today, we delivered it all to her home! 

With a shy, quiet smile Esther said to me, “I’m so grateful.  Please tell this person thank you from me.  Tell them thank you so much for allowing God to bless me. I somehow knew that if I remained honest and faithful, that God would one day bless me.” 

No, Esther.  Today, we are the ones that are blessed by your humble gratitude.  Thank you, God, for the blessings you rain down on your children!

Losing Faith Narasha

I’ve had a very hard day today…

I’ve spent a lot of time sifting through pictures and stories and have been attentive to the number of times this young woman, Faith Narasha, has impacted our lives.  It goes way back to one of my first posts here – The Knife – she was the first person in Kenya who genuinely apologized to me for making a mistake.  That was the day she entered my heart. 

My heart soared the day she asked Jesus to be her Savior and even more so because it was our precious Rachel who had the privilege to tell her the Good News for the first time.  To watch friends become sisters in Christ was a mother’s heart treasure.

My heart broke for her the day she sat down next to me in a private conversation on a hill and told me, with tears rolling down her face, that she was pregnant.  Because of her unfruitful search for true love I sat there and cried with her as reality came crashing in on disillusionment.

Together - we rejoiced when her daughter was born, struggled to care for her child, laughed over chai and painted nails, argued over her family, battled over choices, delighted over the intricacies of her beautiful daughter, cried when her mother died, and tried to fight an incurable illness.

Faith died yesterday after a long battle with her sickness.  I’ve been thinking through the many ways she’s impacted our lives and I’ve been crying all day.  I think what makes her death so hard for me is that I’ve never fought so hard for someone like I’ve fought for Faith.  I won’t go into all of the multi-layered details of this battle but it has been a long one mixed with little joy and a lot of pain.  And today, it feels like I’ve lost the battle - the battle for her life, for the opportunity to raise her daughter, and for a hope-filled future.

Over the last seven days as I sat with her in the hospital, I watched her grow increasingly tired and her mind fade.  “I want to go home.  Ninataka kwenda nyumbani.” She said this verbally to me several times in her brief moments of lucidity on Tuesday morning before she was intubated, and a couple of times more with her eyes after.  Those were her last words.

“I’m sorry Faith that we didn’t get everything right and that life was such a struggle.  We fought hard but not hard enough.  Your battle is over. You finally know that you are loved and you are home. ”   That should feel like a win …but today it just doesn’t. 

Being Thankful

Esther stopped by my house just after Thanksgiving.  I have a love/ hate relationship with her because she makes bagels.  I LOVE her and I actually love bagels, but not so much the bagels she makes… until that day.  She’s a college student struggling to make it through school and trying to fill every moment she’s home with earning money to provide for school fees. That’s difficult in America and nearly impossible in Kenya but, she has a strong work ethic and I love that about her.  Somewhere along the way, someone taught her to make bagels and on school breaks she goes door to door around Kijabe asking to make them for us muzungus who, in theory, love them.  Every time she comes I secretly think, “Seriously, it’s school break again,” but out loud I say, “Esther, I’m so glad to see you (which is true), we would love to have some bagels (which is an outright lie).”

The bagel I was picturing in my mind

Here’s why.  The first time she came I was genuinely excited about bagels.  Who wouldn’t be in Kenya? However, it took about 4 hours to make 20 bagels. By the time she left, my kitchen was trashed and she used so much propane for all of the various bagel-making stages I had to replace the tank prematurely (maybe that’s just coincidence).  She accidentally ruined two of my really great cookie sheets, which is not a big deal but, I bought them the last time we were in the US and they are really hard to replace here. When the final product emerged, my family fittingly named them “Lembas Bagels” (shout out to Tolkien) because they were so dense and heavy they were convinced they’d stick for a week. Ditto for time two and three.  Now, I must admit, she has improved her technique over the last year and the bagels have become slightly less dense. However, it is still an all day effort and costs me way more financially than the bagels are worth.  In truth, I’d rather just give her money but I know the process of working for pay is honoring to her and I do enjoy her company. 

The day she stopped by I was pulling the laundry off of the line.  I had a good 30 seconds to walk towards her and put on my “happy to see you” face. I was furtively thinking, “We are traveling quite a bit this month. I won’t really be around for her to come.”

“Hi Esther!” (hug) “Welcome home from school!  How did your exams go?”

“Good!  I’m finished now with school.”  Secret dread washed through my mind thinking now she’d want to come every week.

“Wow! Great!” …More small talk…and then the question.

“Will you need bagels this week?”

“Ummm, we are traveling this week but we’ll be around next week.”  I squeaked out, “Would you like to come then?”

“Yes!!!” She paused in her excitement and then tried to say something but stopped and started again.  “Instead of paying me with money when I come, can you give me some food and deduct it from what you will pay me next week? And I would like it if you would just pay me with food when I come next week.” 

Confused by her question, which came out slightly jumbled, I asked, “Esther, are you asking for some food right now?”

“Well, I never told you this but my sister died last year and I will be caring for her three young girls and my dad now. I just got home from school and there is nothing to eat.”

“Does your dad work? Can he help?”

“Well, he’s paralyzed on half of his body and has HIV and is sick.” 

“Please, come in….” I said, fighting back tears.  As I gathered some food, I pondered the heavy load such a young girl was carrying.  I asked her why she wanted me to buy food instead of paying her to work.  She said because she didn’t know how to feed children or to shop in the markets.  Sigh. 

“Come on Monday afternoon.  We’ll figure this out together then.” 

I read this verse this morning during my quiet time and it kept coming to mind all day.  Matthew 5:42, “Give to him who asks of you and do not turn away from him who wants to borrow from you.” I’m pretty sure God was preparing me for this moment.  He also shifted my perspective…again.  I’m sorry now for even being cynical about Lembas Bagels. 

We've eaten them several times this month, not because we like them, but because they represent a life-line for a family.  Next time you are in Kenya you can come enjoy them with us!

Lembas Bagels - some of the good ones

Smith Family Christmas Letter  December 2013 Warm Christmas greetings from the Smiths!   Here is a quick update from each of our family members:  Rick:  Busy again this year balancing directing Oasis for Orphans in Kenya, teaching pastors at Moffat Bible College, training pastors in the Trans Mara and being a generally awesome husband and dad.  He found a great friend who loves to golf and they make a habit of this as often as possible.  Ann:  Has found some true treasures in the women of Kijabe this year.  Wrote a lot of child development policies and procedures for Oasis for Orphans and is looking forward to seeing them implemented.  Enjoyed hosting visitors, especially a treasured friend who was here for a month!  Katie:  Is a very sweet 16! Can be found studying, socializing or making smoothies.  Accomplished communicating to the kids on the Hill and the Valley completely in Swahili.  Can off-road 4-wheel drive but can't drive on the highway. Only broke one starter and knows exactly what to do when Rick yells, "Clutch Break!!!" Rachel and her creative Tangled friends Rachel:  Slept on the rim of a volcano. Has determined that saying 'thhh' instead of 'shhh' is a more discreet way to quiet people. Try it! Our family's made the switch! Transitioned to high school and started driving (off-road). Tried a new sport this year - field hockey and she's great at it.  Who knew?!  Still loves babies and children and has loved getting to know kids at the new sites!  Julia:  Made the difficult jump to being a sevie (7th grader).  Still singing.  Wore seven pairs of sunglasses to avoid blindness when viewing the solar eclipse. Switched from clarinet to flute in the band and loves it.  Has great friends who enjoy sipping tea, orating books, and of course, dressing up.   Caleb:  Loves soccer and friends. Hates showers and changing clothes. Received body wash, deodorant and a bike for his 10th birthday.  Has forgotten the 'ational nanthem' for the US but knows Kenya's in English and Swahili.  May you enjoy celebrating Jesus with your loved ones!  We love and miss you! The Smith Fam PS - We'd love to get your Christmas Card!   The Smith Family Oasis for Orphans PO Box 127  Kijabe, KENYA 00220 Kenyan Favorites: Winner this year - The Kikuyu tribe who mixes up the l and r sounds.  They have added a new dimension of entertainment to our family and, yes, they laugh at themselves as well.  We eat lice. We play at church and pray on the prayground. We paint with led paint. We have a mighty c*ap for the Rord at the end of the Sunday service. We swim in the liver. We see linos and clocs on safari.  Special thanks to the family who made it possible for us to layover in Rome this summer on our way back to Kenya! The Annual "Things that make you go, 'Huh!?' ": Hey 16 year olds - things could be worse.  You could learn to drive in a car like this! I must pass this by. I've wasted time before. Technically, since he uses his fingers, this is correct. Umm...okay...thanks for the warning... Sorry for this one, but I could hardly keep a straight face when he handed me the card. He must have a lot to manage. Make it a double!!!

Oasis for Orphans | PO Box 1144 | Wheaton | IL | 60187-1144