New Year, New Me ?

 New Year’s Eve has always been one of my favorite holidays. Growing up, my parents hosted their Sunday School class’ annual New Year’s Eve Party at our home. I got to eat all of my favorite “party appetizers”, we played Catch Phrase and Pictionary, and I got to stay up til midnight to watch the ball drop. It was truly one of my favorite nights of the year. Eventually the annual party tradition ended, but I would still stay up until midnight to watch the ball drop (even if my parents didn’t!).

I also love this holiday because of everything it represents. As a pretty sentimental person, I loved reflecting on the previous year and dreaming of what the next year would bring. I would always set resolutions (usually to brush my teeth more - don’t tell my dentist) and would follow through for a few weeks before slipping into old habits. But I always felt like there could be so much more to New Year’s Eve that I hadn’t quite figured out yet. 

Then came December 31, 2017. I was invited to a New Year’s Eve Party for the youth group I attended on Friday nights. It had been several years since we had stopped the party at our house and I was BEYOND excited to play games, eat great food, and fellowship with my friends. Around 11, our youth pastor and his wife got us all to settle down and find a seat as they passed around notebook paper and pens. We were instructed to write a letter to ourselves that we would open the next year - on December 31, 2018. We could talk about this year, dream of what the next year would bring, write about our goals or emotions… crushes or successes… fears or plans. Needless to say, I was hooked. I wrote my letter and around Christmas of 2018 I received a card in the mail from my youth pastor and his wife (they even mailed them to us so we couldn’t forget or lose them!). Each year I would find time on December 31 to write my future self a letter, even dragging my family members into the tradition one year. I continued this tradition for 7 years before pausing in 2023. I didn’t have the energy, time, or motivation to continue my tradition that year. 

I wish we could normalize this… this truth that not every tradition, discipline, habit, diet, routine, hobby, or lifestyle change is meant to last forever. God designed seasons for a reason. When something no longer serves us because our physical, emotional, spiritual, or mental season has shifted, it’s okay to be sad that that season is over. It’s okay to miss it and grieve it. But the foothold that Satan finds all too easily (at least for me in my experience) is inflicting guilt and shame that God never wanted us to carry. “I just quit way too easily”, “I hate that I didn’t have the energy this year”, “I failed… I missed 3 days… 1 week… 2 months so there’s no point in trying again”, “If I was more like *that person*, I could actually do this”,“I feel incomplete and unhappy without this in my life”. There IS something to be said about disciplining ourselves and finishing what we set out to do, but the shame-game was not in God’s plan for us. Work hard and push yourself, but understand that each season of life carries different needs and expectations… and God is never guilt-tripping you for not being enough. 

Now that I’ve had my moment on my soapbox, let’s dive back into the beauty of New Year’s Eve. The “Letter to Self” truly was one of my favorite things I ever did. It was so cool to see what I had predicted correctly, what curveballs had been thrown, what attitudes and ideas had changed, but most importantly how God had been faithful throughout the year. If you try it out, let me know how it goes! I’m in a season of life now where I’m planning to write a letter tonight to Erica for 12/31/2026. I’m grateful for the energy, inner peace, and strength to do so. 

But I have one more suggestion to you, that’s a little more simplistic, that I turned to in 2023: Word of the Year. I’m sure you’ve heard of this tradition - choosing one word to be intentional about, embody, or ‘manifest’ for your year. This tradition works for Christians, but also works out well for those that aren’t… so when I sat down 3 years ago to plan out a “Word of the Year” night for my youth group, I wanted to do something that would root this tradition in Christ. I wanted our word chosen based on Christian values, not on the trends or desires of culture. I wanted our word rooted in Scripture, not in what the world said was important. I wanted our word to remind us to keep our eyes on Christ, not in something we could ‘manifest’ or achieve for ourselves. So the assignment that night was simple: using scriptures and word recommendations I had printed out for my teens, they were to choose a word AND a Scripture to go with it. I bought them small canvases and asked them to write the Scripture out (not just the reference) on the back and either draw, color, or paint the word (or an image that reminded them of their word) on the front of the canvas. This could be as simple as a teenage boy writing “JOY” in black sharpie or as intricate as a teenage girl painting a sunset with “HOPE” written in the clouds. I love this tradition because it can be as complicated or easy as you want it to be. Depending on where you put your canvas and how intentional you are to meditate on it, it can help you be more aware of God’s presence in your life. In my experience, the Lord has led me to a word that I thought would mean one thing and has ended up meaning multiple things in various aspects of my life. Instead of a resolution or another item on a to-do list, it’s a word that could challenge and change the way you view situations, your relationships, your attitude, and your priorities. It stretches beyond one habit or discipline and addresses every area of life through your very mindset. It’s a holistic way to set an intention for your coming year that centers you in God’s will (that can very easily have plans, resolutions, & commitments attached!). 

Let me give you some examples. In 2023 my words (for some reason God has always laid 3 words on my heart, so I make a canvas for all 3!) were BEAR (Galatians 6:2, 1 Corinthians 13:7), EMBRACE (John 1:5, Psalm 27:14, Romans 5:5, Isaiah 9:2), and FREEDOM (Isaiah 61:1, 2 Corinthians 12:9). In 2024 my words were EMPTY (1 Kings 17:16, Isaiah 55:11), GLORY (2 Corinthians 5:13-14), and DELIGHT (Psalm 37:4). In 2025 my words were RELEASE (1 John 4:18-19, Romans 8:37, Matthew 11:28-30), RECEIVE (Exodus 33:14, Exodus 14:14, Hebrew 4:16, John 1:16), and ABUNDANCE (John 10:10, Ephesians 3:20, Philippians 4:12-13). Each year God has surprised me with these words - what I thought they would mean at the beginning, how they changed my perspective during the year, and what they meant to me at the end of the year. I’m sure a few of them have ended up in Facebook posts, but I can’t wait to share with you in the coming weeks what RELEASE, RECEIVE, and ABUNDANCE have meant to me this year along with the words and expectations I have for 2026. 

These traditions don’t have to happen on December 31 or even on January 1. They can happen on January 6, January 23, or even February 12. You don’t even have to wait for a new year to start. A new month, a new week, or a new day is the perfect time to draw near to God and begin to be intentional with your life. If you try one of them out (Letter to Self or Word of the Year), please share your word or your experience with me! May this time of reflection, hope, dreaming, and intention draw you closer to your Heavenly Father, refresh your soul, and help you recognize just how faithful our God is! 

Picking Up the Pen Again (feat. A New Original Poem: "Where Is The Sun?")

    When I stumbled upon my "Life's A Journey" blog, my jaw hit the floor. I thought to myself, "Has it really been 6 years since I picked up the pen, confident that I had something of value to say?".  To clarify, if you follow me on Facebook you know that I have had PLENTY to say in the last 6 years, but I really was surprised that my last published post on my blog was from my trip to Kenya in 2019. This blog started out as a simple high school English project, but I grew to love writing about the experiences and lessons God was blessing me with... and I believe He's been encouraging me to "pick up the pen" and start recording these moments, lessons, chapters, and blessings again. 

    My first thought - "But where will I begin, God?!? So much has happened over the last 6 years! So many memories and milestones... so much heartache and growth!" My favorite thing about God is that He knows the questions, clarifications, 'buts', and fears before they ever cross our mind. So much HAS happened: my 'anointed season', 3 college internships, SGA at TNU, meeting my future husband in college, the discernment process through 5 job interviews, the Lord teaching me about reconciliation + release through Lent, getting my first district license during my senior year at Trevecca, moving to Georgia to be the Next Generation Pastor at Mt. Olive 10 days after graduation, losing 3 of my closest family members in less than 18 months, my mom's journey with radiation neuropathy, the call to be the youth pastor at Midland Valley Community (my dream church), mom's dementia diagnosis, my first exorcism and craziest week of spiritual warfare I've ever encountered, preaching my first teen camp (with my new teens), Third Wave, and of course then there's the small feat of getting engaged, buying our first house, moving into said house, getting married, and getting ordained in the short span of 101 days during the summer 'youth pastor crazy busy season' (no, literally - and marriage + ordination happened in the same weekend). 

    The Lord sure has been faithful on this rollercoaster ride, but I'm getting whiplash just thinking about it! I'm confident that in time, these stories will be told. As a pastor, one of the hardest things to navigate is being vulnerable while also being careful to avoid 'preaching through the pain'. I know that if I had been blogging through some of those seasons, it would have been all too easy to let an entry turn into a rant session or say something I would never have publicly posted if I had processed my emotions more fully. I've decided that if God is truly asking me to pick up the pen again, that I will only do so when He lays something on my heart. This means no posting schedule, no shame or guilt if I don't write for months, no pressure to produce, and most importantly an understanding (mainly for me) that the words I write aren't coming from me. There is great freedom in knowing that all He's asked me to do is be an obedient mouthpiece for His grace and faithfulness. 

    But there is still the question - "Where do I begin God?" - which He promptly answered within a few days of me asking. Saturday morning I was at a South East Regional NYI (Nazarene Youth International) leadership meeting in Alabama when the Lord woke me up before the sunrise and intervened, whispering and inspiring words of comfort and peace as Dad and I hit another "yep, that's the next step of dementia" moment. In 2018 my mom was diagnosed with radiation neuropathy, a terminal disease and 'side effect' of surviving cancer. In layman's terms, the (excessive) amount of radiation my mom received when she was 12 (brain tumor) and when she was battling breast cancer in 2009-2011 is now shutting down her nervous system. We have watched my mother (now 60 years old) decline steadily in health in every capacity impacted by the nervous system (vision, hearing, appetite, balance, digestive track, mental capacities, etc). COVID certainly complicated things (more ~fantastic~ stories there, but probably not appropriate for a public blog) and mom's most recent diagnosis came in 2024: Partial Dementia. Between you and I, I don't know what's "partial" about it, but I'll trust the doctors with that. Last Thursday in the span of 5 minutes, my mom didn't recognize my voice on the phone twice. You could call that faulty hearing aids or declining vision unable to see my name or contact photo on my Dad's phone, but it felt monumental and earth shattering to me. Our family's health journey with my mom (especially heavy on Dad) has been kept on the down low in the recent months and years (outside of hospital visits), but has still been incredibly difficult. I believe that any other man would have moved my mom to an assisted living facility a long time ago, but not my Dad. He has without a doubt won "Husband/Caretaker of the Century" and repeatedly shown me what true patience, sacrificial love, and selflessness look like in big and small things. One day he wants to write a book about my mom, her faith, and the miracles God has worked in her life... I just can't wait to one day write a book about him. 

    Saturday morning the Lord gave me words to communicate the emotions and weight of this journey - and I believe that they're not just for me and not even just for Dad... it came right alongside my yearning to write and my questions of where to start so I believe it is also for a friend who will come across my blog. As much as I want to over-explain every detail, I also know there is great power in letting art speak for itself. I WILL say that every word and line was chosen with great care and intentionality, but I'll trust the Holy Spirit to communicate meaning to each reader based on their individual burdens and needs. I'm looking forward to picking up the pen again, but for now I'll leave you - of all days to post this, on September 24th, the 16 year anniversary of when Mom was first diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer - with this poem God gave me that has brought me great comfort and peace in the midst of heartache. May the Lord bless and keep you, Erica Janelle. 

"Where Is the Sun?" 

That all-too-familiar startling sound pulls me out of dreamless sleep. 

I forgot to change it! Can I go back, snuggle deeper in my sheets? 

But this morning, my mind asks, 

“Where is the sun?”

I pull on my clothes and load up my bag, 

Excited and hopeful as I quietly open the door. 

The world still snoring as I begin my quest 

My heart, yearning, “Where is the sun?”

I walk until my mind is settled 

THIS is where I will capture this moment 

Time lapse on, Bible open, pen in hand 

Now we wait – “Where is the sun?”

“From the rising of the sun to its setting, I will praise the Lord”

But I finished the psalm and reality loom dark and heavy 

“So this is what you wanted to talk about, God”

As I sit here, wondering, “Where is the sun?”

I read of a barren woman given a home, children, and joy

I recognize the story – that’s my mother’s testimony

I take a shaky breath

“Where is the sun?”

She waits in that same home, mind slipping away

Longing for death’s sweet release, and getting closer each day

But the weight is especially heavy as of late

So He woke me up with a question in mind –“Where is the sun?”

Colors are changing – subtle but true

Squirrels begin a game of cat and mouse on the tree bark

The bird song grows louder, more voices joining the tune

They too are asking, “Where is the sun?”

The gnats have also decided to join me

Flying too close, hovering in view

They’re not the only thing bothering me

Swatting and annoyed - “Where is the sun?”

The colors have paled, but the trees block my view.

“I don’t want to wait any longer, God.”

“Isn’t there something you can do?”

As I start to cry, “Where is the sun?”

But wait - can it be? I move to get a better look and see

Orange glowing through a gap at the base of the trees. 

Not fully on display yet, but rising steadily 

It comes to answer my question - “Where is the sun?”

Tears well in my eyes as I take in its beauty 

I hear the Lord whisper as I breathe deep, 

“Just because life is changing doesn’t mean that I am”

I’m ashamed I had doubted, asking, “Where is the sun?”

Mom wasn’t just given a home and a family.

She was given the chance to see me grow up. 

Yes, she’s leaving soon - sooner than I wanted. 

But through a lifetime of trials, she’s known the answer to my question, “Where is the sun?”

My mother knows that even when things feel dark 

The Son is still close by, if He’s rooted in your heart. 

Grace overwhelms me in my weary waiting 

I’m reminded I know confidently … so where is the sun? 

Its warm presence rises faithfully, a new day has begun. 

I can face it with strength and peace because I know… 

Morning always comes, light’s power overcomes darkness. 

I smile, faith has become sight: THERE is the Sun.

Kenya: Closing Thoughts

I cried when I saw my dad. He was standing next to my mom and Matthew. I knew I was going to cry - even if it was just my parents - but Matthew had surprised me and came to the airport too. We got my bags and I was starting to tell them little bits and pieces about the trip as we drove home. After Matthew left our house, I showed my parents the things I bought. I picked up my phone for the first time in over 2 weeks and saw what 18 days worth of notifications looked like. Then I decided I was thirsty. I didn’t want to get out a glass so I went to the bathroom and drank from my hand. I turned off the light and tucked myself in bed and lost it - I wept. I had just done so many things that were so “American”: drive in a car my family OWNED, been able to drink straight from the faucet, climbed in bed without having to cover myself with a mosquito net. I tried to fall asleep but couldn’t because anytime I closed my eyes, a million images swam through my mind… some of which I have described in the past few chapters. I wrote about my experience with reverse culture shock on social media a few days ago. I wrote about the night I hardly slept… when I closed my eyes I was met with images of faces and places I had seen. When I managed to fall asleep, I woke up sweating from the same dream: I was walking around ANU and all of my friends were desperately trying to tell me something… but I couldn’t hear them. The day I sorted through 2600+ photos and started writing this blog I spent $20 at Starbucks while I ate breakfast everyday for 55 cents in Kenya. I drove to Lebanon and down to Camp Garner Creek in Dickson, TN. Both drives took me about 45 minutes to an hour. The same distance in Kenya would have taken about 6 or 7 hours to drive. When I was down at Camp Garner Creek I participated in my first contemporary worship service since coming home. Singing the song “So Will I” left me in tears - ‘if the stars were made to worship’, ‘a hundred billion creatures catch your breath’, ‘every painted sky a canvas of Your grace’, ‘if the rocks cry out in silence’, and ‘I can see your heart 8 billion different ways’...

Being back in America has been filled with exhaustion and guilt. A few days into the trip Ian, the sponsor from SNU, challenged us to start asking God what he wanted us to learn and take away from this trip. I asked God that question everyday and he still hasn’t given me a straight answer. Maybe I learned too much from this experience to come out of it with a tagline or a 3 point sermon. I poured my all into this trip - no phone, no expectations, and no distractions. I tried to look at each day with an intentionality and flexible mindset that honestly made this trip pricelessly perfect for me. I feel like God spoke into me and revealed to me the first step in making me WHOLE in him. I learned about spiritual warfare and the importance of prayer. Kenya showed me the beauty of hard work, authenticity, and saying what you mean/meaning what you say. I still don’t know how life is going to look different for me. I hope God continues to humble me and show me how truly blessed I am. I want the peace, strength, and joy that I found there to comfort me on the hard days. I want to transform the way I pray and worship. I hope to go deep with God and continue to intentionally seek out the little ways he is guiding me into the mission of his kingdom in the mundane everyday. I think one day down the road I will return to Kenya, but until that day comes I am content, blessed, and beyond thankful.

(I said in an earlier chapter that I might write about Steve the slug in the closing thoughts entry, but honestly the story is funnier in person so ask me about it the next time you see me!)

+ I leave for my 2 month internship in Puerto Rico with Thirst Missions in 15 hours!!! I will probably post a few occasional updates while I’m there. If you’re the praying type, I would ask you to lift up our team, the work and witness groups we will be leading, and the island of Puerto Rico. I have no idea what God has in store for me, but I know that I’m going to focus on what it means to ~truly~ have him as my #1 priority, intentionally praying more, and leaning into the way his Spirit leads me! God bless! See y’all in 2 months :)

Kenya: Chapter 7 'What Do We Do Now?'

These last three memories I’m going to share are the ones that have challenged me the most personally. They leave me asking myself ‘what do we do now?’ and ‘how is life going to look different for me when I go back home?’. Africa Nazarene University has a morning prayer group that meets regularly. During Holiness Week (the full week we were there), they met every single day. I figured there wouldn’t be a lot of college students from our team that would have the desire to get up every morning at 7am, but I felt like prayer was something I needed to go to. I managed to get some friends to go with me on a few days, but I knew that I could discipline myself to wake up early for a week. The first day was rough. I was so exhausted that I could barely keep my eyes open. The way the prayer meeting worked was the first 30ish minutes were set aside for prayer and personal reflection and then they sang a hymn that signaled everyone to pull a chair up to the circle where Cindy (our missionary host and ANU’s chaplain) led a little devotional. The week of Holiness Week she was looking at Mark 11:24… even when I didn’t feel like going on Tuesday, I got up because this verse intrigued me and I desperately wanted to continue looking at what it had to say on effective prayer and our desires. A paraphrase of the KJV that we looked at says: “I am telling you, whatever you desire and ask for when you pray, trust in faith that you receive them and you will have them” Mark 11:24. We can’t just pray and ask for something and expect to receive it in full if our desires aren’t pure and we don’t desire it fully with our whole hearts. This doesn’t mean that all you have to do is fix up your heart and God will instantly grant your prayers… I desire with my whole heart that Mom will be healed in whatever way is going to glorify God the most. That doesn’t mean she’s going to miraculously be healed (or pass away) tomorrow - we can’t forget about God’s timing. Along with looking at this verse, I learned about spiritual warfare (there was quite a bit of it during some of the services) and how real and scary it can be. The faithfulness of people in that group was quite inspiring. I loved every minute I spent in morning prayer. But the things I learned about prayer and my responsibility to intercede for myself and others in this faithful way is not something I can just leave in Kenya and abandon when I get home. Especially after hearing testimonies and seeing the power of prayer, it’s something that God has challenged me to continue. Hopefully I’m not reading this a few months or years down the road and saying ‘oof I dropped the ball on God again’... hopefully this is something I can fully pursue and incorporate into my daily life. God truly wants to share in relationship with us and he wants to be our number one priority… first and last thought on our minds. I am so thankful for my internship in Puerto Rico because I think the intentionality and the mindset I will have while I’m there will help me to actually start praying… and keep praying.

A few chapters ago I wrote about Jane - a wonderful woman who helps Rob and Cindy take care of their house and Cindy’s father during the day. The first Sunday of our trip we went to her church that was in town - Ongata Rongai. In order to get there we ended up taking 2 trips in Rob’s car. I was in the first group and it was a little awkward getting there. A lot of the church’s members hadn’t arrived yet and we had been directed to sit down. I, however, did not want to sit down. I walked to the back of the church where they had some signs hanging up describing upcoming church activities and their mission statement and I was standing there reading when someone (the pastor of the church, Pastor Kennedy) came up to me. He got my attention and said “you are a pastor?”... I was so surprised. I said “yeah, how’d you know?” and he responded by telling me that “I was so calm in that moment and he could just tell”. That was a super cool moment for me. We got comfortable and sat through Sunday School/Bible Study that lasted for about an hour and a half and then we got ready for church to start. That day at Ongata Rongai was seriously SO cool. I wrote the following in my journal that night: “Worship was powerful. Each song built with spiritual intensity. During the last song (the whole time I was dancing, clapping, and singing in Swahili) I noticed how passionate people were. I said ‘God I wish I knew what they were singing and praying’ and immediately the voice of God said ‘they’re asking for revival’ and of course I started crying. I said ‘if that’s what they’re saying or even if it isn’t… please give them what they are asking for… and give it to me too’”.

Based on a prayer they said in English after the worship time was over, what God had spoken to me was correct. It brought me to tears how urgently and desperately they were singing, praying, and crying out to God. After the service I talked to some people who asked me what worship was like in America. I told them ‘not like that’ and they were shocked to hear me describe what a typical worship service looks like when it comes to participation. It was almost like their hearts were broken for me - for us - that we were not experiencing the joy that comes with the worship style they practice. Why don’t we worship like that? Why do we have to be stone statues reading off of a screen? Why can’t we pray like that? Urgently asking God to be with us, bless us, satisfy our needs, and bring REVIVAL to the church??? We are in desperate need of a revival and yet we’re too lazy/embarrassed/comfortable to even care enough to praise God in the way he deserves to be praised??? I’m not saying that I’m going to be dancing up and down the aisles when I come back home… but I AM going to choose to not be ashamed to worship God in the way I need to.

May 17 is a day that I will never forget. We spent the day at a school in the heart of the slum of Mathare. Images from this day are ingrained in my mind. The slum took up a whole valley that was just minutes from the city and better living conditions. On the drive there we saw lots of hard working people going through the motions and trying to survive. We saw trash everywhere - the ditch on the side of the road, big piles in random places that chickens and children were picking through. When we parked the bus, there was a little boy (he didn’t go to the school we were visiting, just lived in the neighborhood) outside who had what looked like burn marks up and down his arm and on his chest. We walked through the “slum soccer” courtyard where we would later have recess and walked into a little alley between the school (right) and a multi-level housing unit (left). The first thing I saw when I entered the alley was a dead rat and the last thing I saw before I left was two little boys playing. They weren’t playing with toys though - they were pouring dust from one plastic trash wrapper to another. The school had dirt floors and mud brick dividers between 5 or 6 classrooms. Their desks looked like skinny little church altars and each classroom held at least 20 children. Each teacher had a chalkboard, a couple books to teach out of, and two boxes of well used chalk. We were supposed to rotate and end up seeing 3 different classrooms but the first room I entered happened to be Ms. Edith’s preschool class and she asked me to stay with her class throughout the whole day. Even though the circumstances around them were unthinkable to me (a privileged American), every child I met had the biggest smile on their face and light in their eyes. They were incredibly happy. They were getting an education - the only way to break the cycle and get out - and they got lunch every single week day. During recess time the older kids played soccer in the courtyard and the community that surrounded the school watched while doing laundry or other everyday tasks. The preschoolers got to play with a parachute… they LOVE that parachute. Their giggles and smiles drown out the dirt, pain, and struggles around them. Since I spent the whole day with Ms. Edith’s preschool class, I got to know several of the children by name. As I watched them interact with each other and got to see their personalities, I began to see my own preschool children back at First Church (NFCN) in them. Tom reminded me of Jeremiah, Liam reminded me of Daisy, Trevor reminded me of Corbin, and Sylvia reminded me of Amy. Children’s ministry has its ups and downs. I have only held the official role of co-pastoring in preschool with Bethany for about 6 months now. I have the whole summer off but you better believe that when I get back and start working with my kids every week, I will ALWAYS see the faces of the precious children at the school in Mathare. I will continue to pour into the sweet kiddos I get the privilege of working with, but a piece of my heart will always belong to Kenya. They will be in my heart and in my prayers forever.

While the children brought me so much joy, the most impactful relationship I built that day was with the preschool teacher - Edith. She’s a student at ANU and teaching at the same time. That day she taught numbers, letters, different foods that are good to eat and how to draw them, how to pray, the importance of baptism, and many other little lessons. Edith is so strong. She serves humbly and selflessly everyday in the midst of utter poverty. The area is dangerous - Germaine walked every single girl to the bus as we left. He told Janice and Jacinda that it didn’t matter if you were white or Kenyan - it was almost a daily occurrence for people to be stripped, beaten, and robbed in Mathare. So what do we do? I feel like a lot of Americans would say “give them money, donate clothes, and offer food” but if I learned anything from Mathare it is that throwing money at the problem will NOT solve it. One of the little boys I was with wanted to see a simple “African Nazarene University” bracelet so I took it off and gave it to him. He looked at it for a couple minutes and then he took it off and gave it back. As I noticed other children watch his movements carefully, I realized that it was probably a good thing he gave it back. Other kids or even adults might have fought for that simple little bracelet. There are over 500,000 people living in Mathare and if the resources we donated to them were not plentiful - overflowing for everyone to have their fill and more - it would not bring peace and resolution but rather utter chaos. I was only in Kenya for a short time, but it seems to me that what Kenya needs is not America coming in to ‘save them’. Kenya needs its young people to continue to grow up and become passionate about ministering the communities around them. ANU students went with us that day and THEY are the answer and the hope that Kenya needs. I am so thankful for the opportunity to go, see, experience, discover, wipe the slate clean, and learn what life in Kenya is really like… but at the end of the day the future success of Kenya rests in the hands of the generation that truly knows the root of the problems and has the determination to fix it.

Kenya: Chapter 6 'Plugged In'

While we got plenty of opportunities to do ministry on and off campus, I found that the hidden joy and mission of this trip was truly getting plugged in. Conversations, fellowshipping over meals, investing time in different spaces on campus… the relationships that came from these moments are the ones I will cherish forever.

MARCUS- Marcus works the cash register/checkout line at the little cafeteria where we ate most of our meals. He greeted us everyday with a smile and LOTS of patience. Whether we were trying to figure out how many shillings we owed, collecting bottle caps (for Tally’s brothers), or buying breakfast to feed a whole bus... Marcus is super funny, kind to everyone, hard working, very patient, and humble. Although we didn’t have as many conversations as I had with some of the other students at ANU, he is my friend and I am so thankful that I got to meet him.

ERICK- Erick ended up sharing quite a few meals with us. He is studying education and while he seemed quiet at first, he genuinely wanted to get to know us and we had great conversations. Our friendship has grown even stronger after coming home. While all of my ANU friends are still in contact, the conversations I’ve had with him have been super helpful and comforting as the reverse culture shock has set in. Thank you for being a really great friend Erick… also you’ve got a super cool name :).

JACKLYN- Dr. Phillips (from Trevecca) is currently teaching at ANU for the summer semester. He invited us to one of his smaller business classes so that we could meet some more ANU students... this is where I first got the privilege of meeting Jacklyn. Dr. Phillips wanted us to split off (1 TNU and 1 ANU student), get to know each other, and introduce each other to the class. I had been drawn to Jacklyn as soon as I’d entered the room so let me tell you a little bit about this AMAZING woman. Jacklyn is from Burundi and she’s 30 years old. She’s the oldest of 4 (2 brothers, 1 sister) and she is married to a man named Joseph who still lives in Burundi. This is her second year at ANU but she’s almost done - yes… her family is back in Burundi but she is here by herself pursuing her education. She likes cows and Kenyan food isn’t her favorite (Burundi food is better). She’s majoring in International Business and she loves to travel and wants to travel more in the future. So far she’s been to Uganda, Russia, and Dubai. She gives the best hugs. She is also a member of the morning prayer group that I will write about in chapter 7. The last day the two of us were supposed to meet up and talk before I left… we never got the chance. The bus was on its way back but we were stuck in traffic and by the time we finally got back to campus, Jacklyn couldn’t wait any longer and had started on her way home. I don’t think I’ll ever get over that. Jacklyn, if you ever find yourself reading this please know how sorry I am that I missed you that day and that I’m so proud of everything you’re doing and I am incredibly thankful for your friendship.

LILIAN- A staff member came up to Kori and I one day and asked us if there were any Pastor’s Kids (PKs) on the trip. Kori was a double PK and somehow we both ended up in a meeting with Ms. Ruth and 4 PK’s from ANU. While I’m not a PK, I think that I’ve shared in some of the same struggles so I just pretended. That meeting was where Kori and I met Lilian. We were almost ready to go home and we didn’t have much time to get to know her, but that didn’t matter. Lilian joined Kori, Lauren, and I for lunch after that meeting and our hearts were instantly bonded together forever. We talked about the differences between America and Kenya (dating expectations are insanely different!). The last night of our trip the three of us cried for a solid hour - I have the pictures to prove it. I already miss you and your hugs SO much Lilian. I’m so incredibly thankful for our friendship and that I pretended to be a PK for a couple minutes :).

JUDY- Judy, my GIRL. I got to hang out with Judy on the last Monday (and Tuesday) of our trip. A bus full of TNU, SNU, and ANU students and faculty took a little field trip to visit Care of Creation Kenya at Moffat Bible College where we talked about Climate Change and their “Farming God’s Way” program. The 3 hour bus ride meant that Judy and I got ~close~. She is one of the most fashionable people I’ve ever met. She knows how to breakdance. We bonded over ex-boyfriend stories and she taught me how to spell the Swahili words I had learned. We sang together and bonded over all of the fun, girly stuff...  but she also told me about how her mom passed away on December 28 of 2000. We passed the cemetery where her mom is buried every time we left campus. Her dad had died when she was a baby so she was orphaned at age 6. Judy is SO strong. She has an optimistic view on life. She knows what she believes and she clings to her beliefs tightly. She is pure, tender-hearted, beautiful, talented, determined, and one of my favorite people I met in Kenya. Meeting her has changed my life… it made me stronger. Nakupenda, Judy.

COLLINS- The last day of our trip JP and I were asked to share our testimonies again (like we had done at the Town campus the first week). I shared mine and got the blessing of meeting several students afterward who came up and told me that my story had touched them. Two of them even shared their stories with me - one of them being Collins. Collins also knows a thing or two about cancer. His uncle and cousin passed away from colon and prostate cancer and his mom survived breast cancer. Cancer is very taboo in Kenya - it’s seen as witchcraft or the devil working inside of you. Only one hospital in all of Kenya treats cancer, no one wants to be around a person who has cancer, and public transit drivers (buses, tuk tuks, ubers) won’t even let you in their vehicle. He told me about how his family shunned his mom and how his dad (who thankfully worked for the government and therefore could get her the care she needed) bought his own car to transport her to that sole hospital for treatment that ended up saving her life. It’s been hard for him to share his story but -wow- what a humbling and inspiring gift it was that he chose to share it with me. I only had one conversation with Collins but his story hit me deep. His story is one that I will never ever forget. I am so thankful for his willingness to share his testimony with me and for his love for his mom and passion for life.

GERMAINE- Last but CERTAINLY not least… Germaine. I don’t even know where to begin and there’s no way I could write down the memories yet alone put into words how thankful I am for his friendship. Rob and Cindy were our missionary hosts but Germaine acted as our assistant host… our Kenyan connection. He was with us almost every day, gave us his perspective at debrief, made sure the girls were never alone and always protected, and so much more. I got to know Germaine, his story, and his future plans (that I am so excited for!!!). He graduated last year from ANU but came back to hang out with us and to see his old friend JP who was one of our Trevecca sponsors. He told me a few days into the trip that he thought I was a pastor from the first moment he met me. As you’ll hear in chapter 7, another person got that same impression which was super cool for me. Anyways, back to Germaine - what he didn’t know is that the same role he held for our group is the role that I will be taking up for 5 mission trip teams this summer while I’m interning in Puerto Rico. I could write another few pages on Germaine but I’ll cut it off here and just say thank you… thank you for the constant encouragement, the incredible example you set for me, your honesty in conversation, your advice, your protection, your guidance, your smile, and your friendship. I cannot wait to see where God takes you in these next few years. I’ll see you soon, brother.

THIS IS GERMAINE!!!!

Kenya: Chapter 5 'New Life'

I have loved writing every chapter, but I am SO excited for this one. This chapter is focused on the New Scent Centre. Ms. Flora created the New Scent Centre a few years ago and currently takes care of 42 girls who have been rescued off the streets (verbal, physical, or mental abuse and human trafficking). I first met Flora in 2017 when she came and spoke at my church. Her faithfulness and passionate heart has inspired me everyday since. The TNU/SNU team as well as some students from ANU got to go visit her and her beautiful children on May 25-26. We played lots of games, made chapati, celebrated Flora’s birthday on Saturday, and had church with them on Sunday. Meeting the girls, seeing the different stages of healing, getting to hear some of their stories, singing songs of redemption, and fellowshipping with them brought joy to my heart and tears to my eyes. However, the most impactful moments for me while we were there were small glimpses of God’s faithfulness through creation. They are currently in the process of building a new (much bigger and better) home. A small group of us went to go see it on Saturday afternoon. As we got off the bus, I was instantly overwhelmed as I finally saw the place I had heard about for 2 years. If you have ever seen the movie, ‘The Shack’ - the area looks a lot like the garden in the movie. Beautiful flowers and trees surrounded us. They have started growing crops on the property, have solar panels, and access to water. They are currently working on electrical wiring as they finish the 3 story building. Passing the ripe avocados and walking through the new kitchen, bathrooms, stairwells, dining space, and bedrooms… it was incredibly emotional for me. Flora told us that on each corner of the house and in the center there is a Bible planted in the ground beneath the foundation because Christ is their cornerstone. We got to meet Peter who is the architect and supervisor that works with his team for FREE. She told us stories of prayer and faithfulness where God fully provided exactly what they needed at the right time - including the land and the money to pay for it. When we reached the third floor we stopped and Flora was telling us that they only needed $50,000 US dollars to finish with their current plans for the building. Compared to the vast sum of money God has already blessed them with, that is a small and easy task. I asked her if we could stop and pray that God would provide it. We all held hands and Rob started to pray. I felt a huge gust of wind blow through the open windows and I told God that I knew his presence was flowing in and through that place and asked that he would allow his presence and blessings to rain down. 30 seconds later … I kid you not … a gentle rain started to fall for about 5-10 minutes. Rain is not common in that area. As we left, we spotted a bold and vibrant rainbow cast over a field nearby. I know that God is in that place. He has already touched the hearts of those who will provide that money. His blessings will continue to rain down on Flora, her team, and the team that is diligently working to finish construction. His arms of love are wrapped around each girl that will enter those doors. I know he will continue to guide and protect them. The rainbow represents his promise and his faithfulness and I KNOW he will continue to provide.

That night we were with the girls finishing up the chapati when my friend from Trevecca, Kendall, came and told me I had to come look at the stars. Coming into this trip, I thought I might be able to cross something off of my bucket list: ‘see a night sky full of stars’. You know those pictures where they are so bright and plentiful you can barely see the darkness? The sky didn’t look like that (I still need to go out West to witness that kind of beauty), but the view did not disappoint. I walked outside with Kendall and Kori and just looked at the sky for 15-20 minutes. We were in a small town where there were fewer lights so more stars were visible - it was definitely the most I had ever seen.  A few of the girls came up to me and asked me if something was wrong - they were amazed that I had never seen that many stars or a shooting star before. Tears rolled down my face as lines from the song “So Will I” flooded into my mind. They asked if we ever wished on shooting stars and if we thought Jesus heard our wishes and prayers - their wishes always involved happiness and being able to come to America. Needless to say, that night is one that Kori, Kendall, and I will not soon forget.

There is new life at the New Scent Centre. I see hope springing up in the crops surrounding their new building. Joy is present, even in the healing process. Faith is abundant in their attitudes toward the future. Love will drive them to change the community and world around them. All of these moments and images will be in my heart and mind forever with the concrete knowledge that our faithful God is there: in the foundation, the wind, the gentle rain, the rainbow, the stars, and the hearts that are on fire for him.

If you would like to donate financially to the mission of New Scent (there will always be a need for your contributions as they look to establish a medical clinic, school, and church so that they can pour back into their community), you can visit http://newscentcentreintl.org

Flora, Peter, and Trevecca's sponsors Janice & JP.

 The rainbow we spotted as we left.

The view from a bedroom of the grounds and crops.

The new building.

Making chapati.

Kenya: Chapter 4 'Hard Working People'

This chapter is going to be long because Kenya is full of hard working people. As you read today, you get the privilege of meeting Melvin, Jane, Simon, Evans, Daniel, and Grace.

I got to meet Melvin the day we went to ANU town campus. We had gone for chapel where the group sang ‘Come Thou Fount’ and JP (trip sponsor and TNU director of compliance) and I shared our testimonies. After chapel had ended, Melvin was going to give us a tour of the Communications department. Town campus occupies 3 floors of an office building. Melvin gave us the tour of the recording studio, the class rooms, and a radio station that is currently ready to go, but inactive (please pray that the government will give them a permit to operate). He also told us of his plans for the fall. In August he is traveling to South Sudan to teach students there how to use a radio station that was just donated to them. People had raised the money and provided the equipment, but had not trained them. I invited Melvin to eat lunch with us. The tour and lunch turned out to be the only time we got to see Melvin, but he is passionately pursuing God and is about to use the gifts that God has given him to make a little corner of the world a better place. Melvin, if you ever find yourself reading this please know that your drive and excitement to go teach students in South Sudan inspired me. May we as young college students strive to use our gifts to better the world around us as generously as you are.

We got to see Jane almost every night. She helps Rob and Cindy (the missionaries who hosted us) take care of their house and Cindy’s father. Jane is kind and blessed us in so many ways - even her smiles brought my heart incredible joy. On Sunday May 19, a group of us traveled to her church - Ongata Rongai. You will hear more about that experience in a later blog post, but Jane  was our defender on May 19. We were riding back to campus in tuk tuk’s (picture at the bottom) and she made sure that each of us got in a good tuk tuk with a reliable driver. Anytime I went over to Rob and Cindy’s house during the day, Jane was always hard at work. She always had time to stop and talk though. Jane thank you for your sweet spirit. I know that God will bless you and your family greatly for your hard work and compassionate heart.

Simon is the ANU version of my dad. When we needed more toilet paper, he was on it. Shower stopped working? Call Simon. When ALL of the water was cut off (toilets, sinks, showers) in our flat the next day? Simon’s got it under control. During Holiness Week, I had chosen to go to early morning prayer from 7-8 each day but on Wednesday Janice and Jacinda decided to go to a 15 minute devotional time held by the maintenance team daily. While they were there, Simon asked if someone from the team could be the speaker the next day and Janice signed me up immediately. Thursday morning I found myself talking about the importance of our work. Using the story of the woman anointing Jesus with oil before his death, I talked about how God can take our work and our lives and (when totally surrendered to him) can turn it into so much more. After the devotional time was over, Simon came up to me and told me about his daughter. Her birthday is coming up and instead of asking for presents and keeping them for herself, she’s going to donate all of the gifts she receives to her church that is currently trying to pay off/buy the building they’re holding church in. Simon’s smile was one of my favorites to see. The conversations we had as well as the ones he had with members of our team were deep, meaningful, and inspirational. His outlook on life, his attitude towards his work, his heart for missions and ministry - it blew me away. And Simon’s heart isn’t going to stop with him; he’s passing it on to each of his children. Thank you Simon - for the tea, your encouragement, and for inspiring all of us as you glorify God in all that you say and do.

Evans and Daniel are some pretty special men. They both work for the school’s maintenance team as well. We met Evans the first day we were there. The group from SNU hadn’t arrived yet and it was just the Trevecca students. Our first dinner was going to be off campus and we were supposed to leave at 4. Kenyan time runs a little differently than American time and it got pushed back to 5. Janice and I had sat down on the steps right outside the maintenance offices and Evans noticed us and invited us inside to sit in more comfortable chairs. A group of us came inside to find chairs and hymnals. Evans (as well as a lot of the maintenance team) loved singing hymns. The hymn books had been brought by a work and witness team decades earlier but Evans told us that they used the books every morning to sing songs during their devotional time (this was where we were first invited to join them in the mornings). For the next hour, Evans would tell us a favorite hymn of his and the group would sing the song while he recorded us. Trust me, we weren’t that great but it brought a smile to Evan’s face and some joy into our jet lagged hearts. The next time I got to talk with Evans, he was with Daniel eating in the cafeteria. That morning I had spoken in Bible study and when they saw me sit down alone, they invited me to join them. Grace (who I will introduce you to in a minute) popped in occasionally when she wasn’t working to join in on our conversation. Eating lunch with Evans and Daniel that day turned out to be one of my top 5 favorite meals/conversations of the trip. They told me about their lives and how they got jobs at ANU. Daniel has worked there since 1986 - a work and witness team taught him how to be a plumber and he’s stayed with the school ever since. Evans started working more recently, but loves it there. I asked Daniel, Evans, and Grace what motivated them… what kept pushing them to work even when they didn’t feel like it or life was hard. All of them answered the same thing: you had to work to have a salary to provide for your family. Their families, strength from God, and the great community at ANU keeps them coming back and faithfully working everyday. Grace is still single but I got to meet her brother, Daniel told me about his 9 kids, and Evans just sent me a picture of his son yesterday afternoon. Thank you for lunch, for letting me see into your world and your work, for showing me your infectious passion for life and the ways in which you glorify God.

Last but certainly not least - Grace. One morning at breakfast I introduced Grace to some of our team that hadn’t met her yet. I said “this is Grace and she is one of the most generous, beautiful, and selfless people on this earth” and then I felt myself starting to tear up so I stopped. Janice, Jacinda, and I met Grace on one of the first days of our trip. Grace works in the cafeteria, she has a beautiful smile, and she gives THE BEST hugs. Often she would see I was in a long line for food, pull me aside, ask me what I wanted, and serve me quickly. When Edwin, Jacinda, and Kelvin dared me to eat a habanero pepper and my mouth caught on fire, she knew just the thing to help me out. Every morning for breakfast I would get Kenyan tea and a mandazi with sugar on top (tastes just like a donut - 10/10 would recommend). She would make fun of my American taste buds, but she would also pick out the biggest mandazi to put on my plate. Grace is there all day cleaning the cafeteria and serving the students. She seems soft spoken, but her heart loves bigger than most. Grace, I have thought about you every day (oof I’m crying again). I miss your hugs and even though I brought home Kenyan tea bags, it’s nothing compared to the tea you made me. I didn’t think such a deep bond could be formed in a 15 day time period, but a piece of my heart is undoubtedly still with you: my sister in Kenya. We are separated by distance, but ALWAYS together in spirit and in heart.

For your hard work and willing spirit, even when you don’t have the most glamorous job… asante sana rafikis.

Tuk Tuk

Kelvin & Grace