Love It

Rosemary works at the front desk of Africa Inland Mission – International Services. She’s a big Kenyan lady that seems to brighten the room and your day when she smiles. With corn rowed hair and a gift for talking, she has one of those smiles that belies something larger welling inside of her.

We’re on a Matatu (loosely translated = 14 passenger micro-van driven like the apocalypse riders are somewhere in the mirrors) to Narok, Kenya. Well, not Narok exactly, but just outside of the city on Pastor Maurice’s Shamba, or farm. Narok lies between Nairobi and the Maasai Mara, the popular safari spot. Narok lies in the land of the Masai tribe, miles of dusty roads away from hurrying and commercialism. After alighting off of the matatu, we make our way to buy some food. And by “some,” we mean hundreds of pounds of rice, Maize, and beans. Goats occupy the center of the dirt street. A baby wrapped in a jacket and stocking cap for, apparently, an Alaskan winter, chases the goats. He achieves triumph, the goats run away and he gets to keep running after them. Rosemary barters hard for the rations, Pastor Maurice goes to buy some goat meat to welcome his guests, Kevin, Lindsey, and I.

All five of us pile into a four-passenger taxi with “Dr Pain” stickered across the top of the windshield. Oh, and hundreds of pounds of food. Along the way, Dr. Pain makes a stop for a flat tire, his tense driver deciding to just air up his tire and hope it survives the journey. Next stop is the gas station. Doctor Pain needs more fuel and motor oil. Under the strain of all our weight, Dr Pain also strikes a speed bump, one of the ominous Kenyan speed bumps. Doctor Pain takes an exhaust system injury, fumigating us inside of the non-moving windows that probably last rolled up-and-down in the 1990’s.

We finally make it to our destination, Sheryl’s Orphans Children’s Home. This orphanage is the brainchild of Rosemary and Pastor Maurice. They have worked together to build a home for children without any other family. Open for four months, Sheryl’s Orphans Home’s foundation is rooted in Rosemary and Pastor’s Big dreams and Big faith.

You see, they don’t have money. Rosemary really could hardly afford the matatu trip to Narok. Pastor, the man in the tattered felt hat, doesn’t have any money either. Pastoring in the Kibera slum doesn’t pay well, apparently. However, they both figure prayer and dreams are bigger than money.

After offloading the food and shaking off the dust and carbon monoxide poisoning, a couple dozen wide-eyed African children greet us. They smile and shy away at any eye contact with us strange, white colored, twenty-something people. They form a line and finally start singing to us. Singing in Kiswahili and singing in Masai. As a group, they sing to us for an hour. Individually, they are all too shy to even come close to us. Apparently, we are the first white people that have visited the orphanage. The children thought we were “big babies,” newborns that hadn’t gotten their skin color yet.

We are given an upcountry Kenyan welcome, which means that it’s time to eat a LOT of food. Kevin, Lindsey, and I are given the only three chairs in the building while our hosts stand, smile, and tell us that we are their honored guests. We are also served more food than any human ever should eat (and the rule in the upcountry is that you eat more than you ever should).

We end up sitting among the orphans, who sit on the floor while eating their rice and beans. Being welcomed into a community of children all begins with giggling and shy looks. Then one boy gets the courage to poke you. Then more giggles. Then more pokes. Then you act like you’re going to attack them. Then they scream. And then you’re in.

We spent the weekend playing with the children, running, teaching duck-duck-goose, singing, giggling, and being crawled all over. Once being accepted into the community, expect any walking to involve two children holding your hands.

I’ve always thought we have a lot to learn from children. Their gift is that they have so much love. They love everything! They love playing, love taking off their clothes, love stickers, love dirt and bugs, love each other, and love you. It’s like God designed them to just Love Everything, and they’re living so close to that design that they can’t not laugh and smile.

Rosemary and Pastor Maurice started this orphanage with no money and big dreams. They dream of housing 360 children someday. They dream of a home for children where they can have school and eat and have a family even though their parents died. Through prayer and hard work, they are realizing this dream. They have had cement, beds, labor, money, land, and many other things donated. They also purchased some land. They don’t know where the rest of the money will come from, but they don’t care. They know they’re up to something bigger and serving something way bigger than money. When we showed up, there was about a gallon of maize left for food. The small amount of money the three of us (Kevin, Lindsey, and I) scrounged up was going to provide food for up to a month. They still need chairs, they still need a fence, they still need grass. Oh, and they still need electricity and running water. But they don’t care. Dreams are bigger. The whole weekend they would play with and watch the children like proud parents. They couldn’t stop grinning. It’s like God designed them to just Love These Children, and they’re living so close to that design that they can’t not laugh and smile.

Frank Toews, an AIM-AIR pilot, was killed instantly in a plane crash two weeks ago. In the wake of this crash, Frank has left behind a wife and four children. Frank served forgotten people in East Africa with an Airplane. He just loved flying. People around could see it, feel it. If you ever met Frank, he was always smiling. He had a big hearty chuckle and a chest like a barrel. Its like God designed Frank to just Love Flying Airplanes, and he lived so close to that design that he couldn’t not laugh and smile.

Ryan Williams, an AIM-AIR mechanic, was seated next to Frank in that airplane. He sustained major injuries in the crash. Ryan fought those injuries but passed away a week after the crash, going to be with his Lord and his buddy Frank. Ryan was always known for being a “tinkerer.” He just loved fixing airplanes. And motorcycles, and cars, and blenders, and anything any neighbor could manage to break. Ryan used those skills for something bigger than finding a job; he was an AIM-AIR missionary, faithfully servicing a fleet of airplanes that take hope to the far corners of the earth. In working with Ryan and becoming his friend, I couldn’t help but notice that he smirked all the time while talking. His professionalism around the airplanes was laced with a light-hearted humor. I was with him and Frank at the hangar in the moments before they taxied off and I just remember Frank smiling a lot and Ryan cracking a lot of jokes. Its like God designed Ryan to just Love Fixing Airplanes, and he lived so close to that design that he couldn’t not laugh and smile.

Like I said, I think kids have a lot to teach us. Children have a sort of purity about them. It’s just how God designed them, and us older folks, to be. They’re just full of Love. They laugh and smile and run around and run into walls sometimes. More importantly, they do so many things out of love. A hug. A craft-time snowman made of cotton balls and glue. They crawl all over you. It’s like God designed them to just Love Everything, and I can’t help but think that if God gives that to a child, he wants us grown-ups to have it still.

“Take your love with you wherever you go.” -Rachel Larsen

Lance