I went to Kenya in September 2007, searching for God in the faces of the poor. What I am now seeing is that as I am also discovering myself. As I know myself, I seem to know, little by little, the face of the creator as well. To be created in the image and likeness of God is quite difficult to accept. It is much easier to see a spark of the Divine in others, in my family and friends, those with whom I work and serve every day. It is easy to see God in my children, in the teachers at school in Chris. To see God in them is quite easy, I think. It is more difficult for us to see ourselves as having DNA that is Divine. As I learned last trip, I don’t need to travel far to find God. A trip across the globe is not a necessary prerequisite for being able to know or experience God. God is not “out there.” God is within and knows me better than I know myself. And that is my salvation. He knows why I do the things I do. He knows the motivations and the ego involved in everything I try to do. That is quite a relief. I just need to stay out of the way. God is in the "now"- in the present and not only "to come." In fact, if He is not here, right now, I am doubting if He is. I have the luxury of time to spend with God. I have time to Be, to pray, to laugh and relax.
My place is too nice for me. In the Village at Kitui, I struggled with finding water, finding power to charge my phone, light to see in the middle of the night, cooking on an open fire. I also had occurrences to struggle with relationships. Living in close quarters with those of other cultures and personalities was difficult at times. In Athi, at least in my house, I have water, even a cold shower. I have electric and a tile floor. I have a propane tank for cooking and I don’t need to build a fire to cook or boil water. I can take a motorbike to a grocery store. It is a much easier life. Even among the Masai, I am embarrassed to point to where I live. When they ask "where are you staying?" I have to point to the palaces on the hill. The homes are so out of place in this desert-like area. My only prerequisite for housing was that I feel secure. Maybe that was a mistake but I have to remain in this nice place now for at least three months. And maybe staying in the nice place is more of a concession for those at home who worry about me, more than I worry about myself. I am definitely secure and have Masai men guarding the place night and day. I am not sure what that means for me. I guess I have to just enjoy it, since it was chosen for me. I should just see it as a gift for this time. But . . . . I miss the Village. There was a sort of community there that I do not have here with the Masai. I remain the outsider to most, the white guy who has brought them things. I miss the playfulness of the Village. I was one of them and haven't quite found that ease in my new situation. Perhaps it will come.
