Two Faces, One Head

One of the hardest slaps to humanity has to be the face of hypocrisy.

Is it any wonder that an intense sense of disgust and betrayal wells up within us when one of our heroes shows him- or herself to be the opposite of what we believed that person to be?

Or how about when someone with direct authority over us-- parent, boss, peace officer, lawmaker-- commands from a "do as I say, not as I do" platform? Doesn't exactly make for the warm-and-fuzzies.

If a religious leader shows their ugly private side after years of public piety, forget about it. Better to just crawl under a rock and die if you are that person, because there's little hope that you will ever find restoration in the eyes of those who once followed you.

The absolute WORST offenders, however, rarely get dealt with. Their hypocrisy just continues on unfettered and unchecked, for what seems like ages until, finally, one day, they look in the mirror- and there we are. You, and me. We are really no different.

We want so badly to believe that we are above hypocrisy, but we're not. The sooner we can accept that, then the more likely we will be to extend grace and mercy to the next person who breaks our heart, shatters our faith, or causes us to shake our heads in disgust. I'm not saying it's easy; it's much easier to point to the flaws and failures of someone else and ignore our own. After all, if we are human, then we are just as two-faced, fake, broken and flawed on any given day as the next person, hoping at best to make some progress towards being a little bit better, a little bit kinder, a little bit more put together and well-adjusted. It's not until we let a light of truth shine in on our own mess that we find the humility to start cleaning up and moving forward.

Hockey Ruined/Saved My Life

It's been over for about a week now, and the vacuum its absence has created in my heart is palpable. A profound sense of loss, aimlessness, and longing for something that you just can't have has overcome me like a lover long gone.

Hockey season is over, and I don't know what to do with myself. I'm ruined for the next three months, damned to hunt for scraps of news ("Lidstrom signed on to the Red Wings for one more year!" "Winnipeg has 7th round pick in the drafts!" "Vancouver will likely keep all of its core players!" "Speculation is that Selanne may sign for one more year!") and troll around Vegas during the NHL Awards hoping for a pic or... deep breath... an autograph.

I just love this sport. Few things have stirred up so much passion in me, given me so much joy, and filled me with a desire to belong to a group of devoted, die-hard fanatics as hockey. The fact that I'm an American, and a Californian to boot, makes it even sweeter since it makes me somewhat of a unicorn, a chupacabra if you will.

Having just finished my third season as a fan and follower, I pretty much hate that I didn't get into it years ago. Because, trust me, I would have been INTO it. I have huge admiration for the fans who know the game inside and out, know the stats and history of players long since retired, and remember fondly the days of hockey gone by. Still, I absolutely love it and am grateful that I have it now. It's much more than a game to me; it's a huge part of me.

The truth is, hockey came into my life as a blessing in disguise at a time when I needed it most. As an unmarried woman of a certain age, I hit a point in life when all of my closest friends had moved on with their married lives, my only child was all grown up, and my prospects of finding "the one" had faded into oblivion with another heartbreaking betrayal of trust. Even with the really good things I was involved in and continue to be blessed by, if I'm completely honest- the loneliness I was dealing with at the time had driven me to make choices I would rather forget and erase from existence.

And then came hockey.

Finally, something just purely fun and exciting and spectacularly thrilling that I could become immersed in, meet amazing new friends to let loose with and enjoy the ride. Hockey brings a delightfully joyful balance to my life, which is normally filled with family drama, a less than challenging job (sorry, Boss), and a wonderful ministry to HIV/AIDS orphans in Kenya. For me, watching these unbelievably talented athletes go to work and play this beautiful game stirs up something primal, something visceral that is intensely sexy, a little bit dangerous, and completely addictive. Team work, stars and legends, coaching strategy- it's incredible to see it all play out, and being surrounded by thousands of like-minded hockey lovers watching it unfold in front of me is just amazing.

Many of my friends and colleagues think I've lost it, that I need a "hockey intervention" and can't understand my Facebook posts during hockey season (let alone during playoffs). Other friends just look at me as a curiosity, a funny little source of amusement with my hockey-fueled rants. I'm totally OK with that. And then there are the magical few who get it, who fully grasp the emotional roller coaster I ride with my teams' wins and losses, who are just as passionate about their favorite players and feel with undefinable intensity what it means to love a team. These are the people who go on spontaneous road trips, cheer like maniacs at every game--whether watching from the stands or in front of the TV-- and have multiple layers of fan props (jerseys, t-shirts, car flags, face paint, tattoos... you get the picture) that just add to the enjoyment and create an incredible sense of fun-loving community that can't be manufactured. You gotta love that, right?

So yeah, you could say hockey has ruined my life- and I couldn't be happier.

Launching a Vision, Pt. 3- Seeds to Seedlings

A month ago today, I was boarding a plane and leaving Kenya. Again.

This wasn't my first rodeo, so to speak, so I had spent the previous 24 hours trying to prepare myself mentally and emotionally for the next leg of my journey; not just the grueling flights in coach, anticipated airport drama, and hours without the ability to sleep, shower, or escape the pressing crowds for just a few moments of privacy [read: sanity]. No, I knew I needed to prepare myself for the inevitable funk I would have to deal with in coming back to my so-called normal life. Having made this trip more than a few times before, I knew I was going to be in for some serious soul-searching and dissatisfaction going back to the daily grind of office politics, social media sites, and a general sense of feeling like I should be doing something... more.

Over the past month, I've given my thoughts and prayers to the little seeds of a vision that was planted in Kenya, and asked God to bless the WE (Women's Empowerment) ministry being launched by William, Mary, and Kalekye.

Here's a recent update from William that made me cry in a good way: Kalekye, Mary and I have been spending good time together. You can be sure that the three of us have bonded better than before. For the last few weeks, Kalekye has been doing simple jobs at Mary's hotel. This has helped her get some little money for food. The last meeting we held saw us settle on having Kalekye do a simple vegetable shop, whereby she can be selling kales, and onions. Kalekye came up with the idea and good enough Mary offered to provide ready market for the kales every day. I chose to provide the starting capital of one thousand Kenya shillings. Mary will as well do the monitoring, but I will also be available as well. We are working with Kalekye alone before we recruit any one else. Meanwhile, Kalekye will continue working at Mary's hotel for some hours of the day to supplement for her house cares like food and house rent.

... This morning I was talking to a lady who is a member of our Church. She is living with HIV/AIDS and wonders how she can raise support for her family. I realize how the WE ministry can really minister to the needs of such a people.


If you know the backstory of these three people, you will understand that what is happening is a small miracle and a beautiful picture of God's grace being poured out through good people choosing to invest their time and care into the life of another. Not for their own glory. Not for their own publicity. Not for anything other than to reach into the messy, dirty, broken life of another and walk together through the rough places on the way to healing and restoration. Put simply, they are living out the example of God's love.

I am so excited to see what happens next. In the meantime, I am going to focus on being grateful for the life I've been given, enjoy each day as best as I can and continue to look for ways to give back, because this is what makes me truly happy.

Breaking Point

What do you do when you are about to reach your breaking point?

Are you the type of person who retreats, or seeks comfort? Vents, or explodes? Do you crave the close company of a friend, or the anonymity of strangers? Push back or ride it out? Try to get numb with food/drink/drugs/sex/shopping/whatever, or cry out to a higher power for some sort of a sign and a hall pass?

We all have our own ways of trying to cope, and if we're being honest, there are probably a few unhealthy ways of dealing with the drama that creeps up in our lives. I know that when I am on the edge of a full-scale breakdown, there is nothing I won't try to delay the inevitable (a.k.a, me curled up in a quivering mass of tears and snot). Oh sure, I do start out honorably, best of intentions, blah-blah-blah, but when nothing seems to be taking the problem away my honor goes out the window. I will be the first to admit that I can easily cave in and let the problem overtake me. Whatever, sometimes I'm weak. But maybe, just maybe, there's something that I missed on the road to whatever disaster I'm struggling with. Maybe... it's not really a disaster at all.

All of the complaining, day dreaming, and avoidance tactics won't make the problem go away, but it will make me (and those around me) totally miserable. What if the drama/heartache/breakdown/disaster in my path is really just an invitation to make some positive changes and live a more authentic life?

We were created and designed to live full, beautiful, productive and joyful lives, regardless of our circumstances. If I find that I am in a place where I feel stuck, unmotivated, angry, disrespected or defeated, there's a reason for it. It means that something major has to change: either my circumstances, or me. Of the two, there's only one that I have any control over, so...

Launching a Vision, Pt. 2: Puzzle Pieces

One of the things I feel like God has been teaching me on this trip (among many things) is that all along, from the very first visit I made here to Kenya so many years ago and even before that, God had a plan and it is much bigger and more beautiful than anything I could have ever dreamed up on my own. He gave me the opportunity to form a bond with the people of this area, develop a love and a burden for the women in desperate situations, and play a small part in helping to bring about change, restoration, and hope in their lives.

Yesterday, I had a meeting with some key people in Masii. We were able to take part in a conversation that begins to flesh out this vision for bringing hope to the hopeless, especially the women who are most broken and desperate.

As it turns out, Mary, one of the ladies that I first met here in Masii on my first visit, has been carrying the same burden and around the same time that I felt God stirring in me to move forward, she was even experiencing the same. Mary is a very savvy business woman and she now owns and operates the newest and largest hotel and restaurant in town. I remember her as the first person to be the cook for our Vision Trip teams when we came here. At that time, she owned a very small restaurant in town. To see her now, it is clear that her good business sense has paid off handsomely. Come to find out, it is this same Mary who has been feeling broken hearted for the poorest of the poor in her community—the street kids, the outcast women, the prostitutes. She has out of her own resources been helping to feed and clothe and encourage these same people, and has been praying and looking for ways to involve others to participate and bring hope and healing to “the least of these.”

Relationships 101

There are many reasons why we choose to call these visits a “Vision” Trip as opposed to a “Mission” Trip; the primary difference being that while we may be on a ‘mission’ so to speak, i.e., there are tasks we hope to complete while we are here, it is more important that we form strong, healthy relationships with our ministry partners here in Kenya and help friends back home catch the vision for the work being done.

For the task-oriented, highly efficient, go-go-go Western mindset, being in Kenya can be incredibly challenging, frustrating, or even discouraging. We want to come in and fix the problems quickly, get the job done, and move on… but that just isn’t the African way. It isn’t about the programs, it isn’t about the organization, and it isn’t even about the many different things that have been accomplished. This trip- in fact, this whole ministry- is all about relationships.

How we relate to each other, to our partners here and abroad, the communities we seek to serve and even how we relate to God… all of these relationships shape and impact our effectiveness in ministry. Certainly as men and women of faith, our primary relationship must be to God—if that one is broken or in need of attention, every other relationship will suffer in varying degrees. [Side note: I do not claim to be anything but a work in progress, and certainly struggle in some areas more than others…as anyone who knows me can attest to; but I am also covered in grace, and only hope I can extend the same to those around me.]

Because our small team of 3 is here at the same time as another Vision Trip team of 5, we are splitting the work and they are taking the majority of the home visits while we provide updated information on the kids at camp. I am grateful for that opportunity and just really glad that we could serve this way. Normally, I spend much of my time here on home visits, which has always been my favorite part of the trip. Something about connecting with the families on their home turf, learning first hand of their needs, praying with them and helping in some small yet significant way is very grounding for me personally. We did get to visit each of our sponsored kids’ homes yesterday, and it was remarkable!

Spending the last few days at the camp, I have been able to spend some time reconnecting with the staff here in Masii and am constantly amazed by the amount of work they do, day in and day out. Even a relatively simple task such as getting updates from the kids that we can send to their sponsors is a monumental undertaking—and has the potential to be very frustrating. But it has also proven to be a wonderful chance to see each and every child who is here this week, greet them, love on them, play with them, and marvel at how much they have grown—sometimes marvel that they are alive, even thriving, knowing how desperate their situations were prior to Tumaini. In the process I have also had the joy of sharing tea and working alongside my Kenyan brothers and sisters, as well as the friends I traveled with from the US. I have felt less like a tour guide on this trip, and instead have felt truly like a partner. It’s awesome. I have laughed a lot, and have slept well knowing that the day was well spent.

Last night we all had the chance to join in on a local cell group (small group Bible study held in someone’s home) and it was perfect. It was truly heaven on earth! One of the ladies, Maureen, shared with us how much it means to them to have visitors from the US come and spend time here in Masii, how much they love us and pray for us. She told us how blessed they feel that we care for them, and how much it hurts when we go back home. I was deeply touched to hear this, and I know that all too soon I will have to say goodbye again, and it’s just going to suck—for me and for them. But I can also cherish the fact that we are crying because the relationships formed here are real, that hearts are being touched, and that lives are being changed. What’s not to love about that?

Pause: Pray: Go

It’s hard to believe it’s only Day 4 in Kenya. It’s just Monday, after all! Granted, there were two days of travel including one l-o-n-g layover in Amsterdam that make it feel like I’ve been away from home forever. The combination of jet lag, lack of sleep, and being thrust into a new group of people does have an impact on what I’ve come to know as “normal.” Add to that being unplugged from hockey (IT’S THE PLAYOFFS!), my BlackBerry, Facebook, Twitter… it’s just weird.

It feels like in many ways, life as I know it has been paused.

Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.

And so, I pause.

I pause because sometimes stepping back from “normal” is the only way to see how much I’ve been missing. I like to think of it as God’s way of inviting me to review, reevaluate, and maybe reset the trajectory of my life.

I’ve been taking this same mission trip for many years, and even though many things are the same (i.e., typical tourist days, rural church service, camp, home visits, etc.) it’s always different, always a unique experience. No matter how many times I go to camp and see hundreds of beautiful, precious, funny and amazing kids, it is always wonderful to spend even just a little bit of time with them. It reminds me to be truly grateful for all that I have and all that I have seen and done, every experience and learning opportunity. No matter how many home visits I go on, how many times I hear the same silly jokes about Idi Amin and the Queen of England, or ride together on impossible roads, or hear little kids yell out “MZUNGU!” (“WHITE PERSON!”) while giggling and waving frantically, or share a lovingly prepared meal with men and women who are built of stronger stuff and greater faith than me, I am challenged, amazed, overwhelmed and blessed. It challenges me to love people more fully and authentically, even and especially those who think differently than me. I find that the muscles of faith and humility that I have allowed to atrophy are almost instantly revived, and my prayer life receives the kick-start it has so desperately needed. I pray, and ask God to take my life and create in me a clean heart and a good spirit. I want my eyes open, my heart broken, and my life to be a pleasant offering of goodness and peace.

Tomorrow, I will get to go and see my “son” and spend some time visiting with him and his mother at their home. I am so excited, and I can’t wait to give them a little something. Until then, though, I remain on pause. I see already that there is a LOT of work yet to do in me.