My Trip to Death Row

For our second day of ministry, the majority of the team worked in the village during their weekly market, but my teammate Keith and I were sent to the prisons.  On past trips our team would do prison ministry just one time during the week, but Morris asked us to visit prisons everyday this time around.  Our team this year was already pretty small but to accommodate this request, we split our school teams into school/prison teams.  This meant only 2 of us went one place or the other.  This would be my first time to work inside an African prison.

I was the only female in our entourage that day and it was a little intimidating.  Our group included myself and Keith, Pastor Morris, Pastor Samson from Kisule, our translator Isaiah and another Mzungu we had met named Brad Harris.  Brad was currently living with his family in Kisumu and attending Samson's church.  His mission is to disciple and encourage existing churches of the area but I'll tell you more about Brad in another post.

My mind that day was occupied with thoughts of what I would say and my eyes were distracted by all the sites we saw out the window on our drive.  Poor Keith had an un-characteristically quiet Julie to contend with that day!  I was trying to be sensitive to cultural differences as well and lay down my loud-American tendacies - especially as a woman with a van full of men headed to a prison full of men.

There was a lot of driving and waiting that day.  First we had to make the one hour trip back into Kisumu.  Then we waited at a local grocery store - a Kenyan Walmart if you will - to wait for the Prison Ministry liason, Pastor Moses.  Morris was with us that day and he invited us to browse the store as we waited.  For those of you who have met Morris, he is a reserved man of few words.  Crusing hair products and magazines with the man was a little surreal!  Oh, and the things I saw on the magazines were bothersome.  One was a fashion magazine called African Woman and some of the blurbs on front were "Abortion: is it Wrong?" and "The Controversy of Multiple Births".  I wished for my own money at that point so I could pick up the magazine and see what they had to say. 

You see, abortion is currently illegal in Kenya but it is currently being considered for cases where the life of the mother is threatened (and yes, American money is pushing that agenda).  I don't want to get all political on my Africa blog, but for those who follow the abortion controversy, you know what a slippery slope this new legislation is for the people of Kenya.  Enough said about that.

Eventually, Moses arrived and we were off to purchase gifts for the prison.  This led us off the beaten path onto narrow city streets filled with commerce of every kind.  It was fascinating that we could fit our van down those streets at all since they were extremely narrow and congested with all manner of vehicle.  To make matters worse, there were periodic ditches dug right into the center of the road - BIG ditches - like the kind that if you ran into one your whole front end would be swallowed into a hole.

After what seemed like a long time hunting down gifts, we finally arrived at the prison.  Sorry, no pictures at this point but maybe in the future Keith will share some of his with me.  We were ushered into the chaplain's office for formal introductions while the inmates were gathering in the courtyard outside.  The chaplain explained that all the men we would be visiting with that morning were condemned either to life in prison or to death.  Those on death row never knew when their time was up until their name was called and they were taken to the gallows.  Condemned men are hung in Kenya.

My job that day was to share my personal testimony and Keith shared the Gospel.  I was told that the leading problem within the prison system was sexual immorality.  That, coupled with the knowledge of my own story, made me scrutinize how far I should go with my testimony.

We were ushered in by armed guards into a wide courtyard.  Surrounding the courtyard were block houses that looked something like small airport hangers with iron doors on the front.  No windows.  We were told that at night, hundreds of men were locked inside their "block" and left in the dark without any resources, or guards, until morning.  Apparently they were given buckets to urinate in, but that was about all.

The prisoners wore stereotypical black and white striped clothing.  Again, a little initimidating to be the only woman in that crowd, but they were kept at a distance and we weren't allowed to mingle.  After more introductions were made, it was my turn to share.  After sitting quietly in the van for so long, it was good to open my mouth and use my voice.  We didn't have a microphone so I had to project my voice loudly for all to hear.  This was also the first time in a long while that I had shared my testimony.  It just felt good to let it out again.  I can only pray that God was in control of my words since I'm not totally sure what I said.  I tried to explain that I too was a prisoner of shame and guilt and had even gone so far as to condemn myself to death (i.e. suicidal tendancies) before crying out to God.  I also emphasized portions of Psalm 18 as it related to my story:

"The cords of death entangled me; the torrents of destruction overwhelmed me. The cords of the grave coiled around me; the snares of death confronted me.

In my distress I called to the LORD; I cried to my God for help. From his temple he heard my voice; my cry came before him, into his ears." [vs.4-6]

"He reached down from on high and took hold of me; he drew me out of deep waters. He rescued me from my powerful enemy, from my foes, who were too strong for me.  They confronted me in the day of my disaster, but the LORD was my support.

He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me." [vs.16-19]

I encouraged the men that no matter their circumstances, God could bring their hearts and their souls into "spacious places" if they would only trust in him.  Keith shared the gospel and many men received Jesus that day.  I guess I should explain that there were already many believers within that prison.  They even sang worship songs for us when we arrived.  Hope lived amongst the condemned which was a very cool thing to see.
  

Here's a typical Kenyan security fence...shards of glass mortered onto a fence.  What creative security we choose for ourselves.  Are there prison walls you need to break down with the help of Christ?

 
Our next stop was to what they called the "medium" prison, which was filled with men sentenced for periods of time that would one day be released.  We were told that many of these men came from the surrounding rural areas.  It was a smaller population than the condemned audience, but it was heartbreaking to see how young they all looked.  These were young men who were making bad choices early in life.  I wanted to encourage them to choose differently once they were released.  For this visit I used the Prodigal Son story to frame my testimony.  Again, not totally sure what came out of my mouth, but the point I wanted to emphasize was the restoration displayed in that story.  The son reasons that it would be better to be his father's slave than to continue the life he was living so he decided to beg for a job.  Scripture tells us:
 
"He got up and went to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him." [Luke 15:20]
 
I just love that.  The father ran towards him and received him as he was!  This is what God did for me and told them it was what God would do for them.  Again, Keith shared the gospel and men came forward to receive.  There were less restrictions with this group of men so we were able to shake hands and encourage our new brothers before leaving that day.
 
Gratefully, Keith and I were deposited back at the hotel that evening instead of journeying back out to Akala to pick up the rest of the team.  I caught a nap and did some journaling and all was right with the world.  The team came back with great stories from the trails and again we enjoyed worshipping together that night.  Hopefully Dave will have time in his busy work schedule to sit down and tell you about his day.  For me, I can only hope that the story of my messed up life before Jesus helped to bring change to at least one person that day.  I will never see those men again this side of heaven, but I'm hopeful some of them will be there to greet me when I go home to the Lord one day.
 
What a great reunion that will be!
 
- Julie

Old Friends and New Trails - The Work Begins

Akala at last!

The village of Akala is Northwest of Kisumu and just past the village of Holo where I had served in 2007 during my first trip to Kenya.  It is a vibrant town with one of the largest weekly markets of that region.  Unfortunately, it took an hour to get there from our hotel and these roads were definately NOT improved!  For those of you who thought anything about these trips resembled a vacation, please know that the beginning and end of each day was spent on one of the worst roller-coaster rides you could imagine...the Kisumu road.  Sections of it were so distorted with crater-sized pot holes that drivers gave up on lanes and just positioned their cars wherever they found a smooth spot - which of course meant that all the cars were gunning for the same areas of road.  The ultimate game of chicken!

Sharp-left = goats, dodge-right = children, hit the hole, gun the engine, beep the horn, dodge the bicycle then sharp-left, hard right BOOM, hit the hole!  Roll down the window. I feel nauseous.  Breathe in the diesel fumes and gag.  Wow, look at that beautiful scenery!

Yes, we had a wild ride each and every day, but what treasures lay at the end of our journey.  One pleasantly weird thing that happened was that as we passed the village of Holo we could see the church I had helped to start off in the distance.  It made me feel like I was "home" in a weird way - like the feeling when you've been away from your parents for a long time and then you pull into their driveway.  Weird to have such a familiar feeling for such a foreign place.

We arrived to the new church late, which meant we missed worship time (boo-hoo! Love me some African worship) but we were greeted by a roomful of familiar faces.  It was so wonderful to smile and hug and visit with our African friends.  Most of the translators this year were men, but we were blessed by the gracious presence of Zappora (whose name I'm sure I misspell).  Zappora is the wise and gentle wife of Boaz, the head master of the Bible College.  The last time I saw Zappora was as Brenda and I were being whisked away from a women's conference in Uganda 2 years ago.  She had inspired us all with a teaching about the lineage of Christ pointing out the colorful women contained therein.

There was also Sosapeter, the pastor from Holo and Eliakim, a much loved young man who we were glad to hear was married and pastoring his own church.  David greeted his translators from years past and introduced me to some of his friends that I did not yet know.  While all this greeting was going on, I looked over the shoulders of the group I was standing with and saw a young man cautiously checking me out from the corner of his eye.  It was my young friend, Martin, who walked the trails with me my first visit to Kenya!  I went straight to him and asked if he recognized me and he said with his finest English, "Yes.  Julie Jacobsen."  How fun to see him after all these years.  It was also an answered prayer since he lives right in the hot-spot of turmoil during the election violence of 2007 and I wasn't sure until that day if he were dead or alive.

We were then partnered with our translators.  David was off to the prisons that day with a group of pastors, but I was partnered with my new friend, Peter, an elder of the Holo church.  After everyone was paired up, Martin volunteered his services to us for the day so I was blessed with two translators instead of one!  It would prove to be a lovely day.

Young Martin from Kisule and Peter from Holo Community Bible Church

Before I left, one of my friends who contributed financially to the trip challenged me to make a difference in the lives of 10 people.  Lisa, I dedicate this day to you!

Walking alone with a translator into an impoverished African village to share the gospel and invite people to accept Christ as their Lord and Savior is an intimidating prospect.  You all know I'm an extrovert, but without fail I always start my trail days anxiously.  I worry that I won't explain things well, or that I'll sound like a crazy person, or that I'll meet a crazy person, or that I'll somehow let God down by messing up the whole thing.  As we started our work that day my mind was racing with pep-talk.  I took a deep breath and thought that I'd just ease into thing a bit.

HA!  God showed us his sense of humor that day.  For Dave it was finding out the night before that he would be preaching in the prisons his first day in-country (not his favorite task) and for me - well, let me explain.

The first group we approached was a gathering of about 10 men sitting under the shade of a bus stop.  Nothing like jumping in with both feet!  They were very attentive and things were going well when all of a sudden, a drunk man named John started asking questions.  I realized he wasn't in his right mind, but he asked some good questions.  He stated that he wanted Jesus but he also wanted his drink.  Not sure what came over me, but I became very direct with this man and told him that the enemy was using alcohol to destroy his life and that ultimately it was his own choice whether or not he chose Jesus or the drink.  All this while the rest of the 10 men watched me intently.  I figured I was just the visiting Mzungu so why not just go for it, right?  Yep, I was in all the way now!

Our next visit was less intimidating as we enjoyed visiting with some women.  Then we walked into farm fields and were invited into private homes.  One older gentleman was eating outside under a tree, but when he saw us coming he left his food and invited us into his home.  We had a good visit with he and his wife and they both received Christ.  Then he told us the coolest thing.  He said that normally he would not leave his food and his work behind to greet visitors, but he said he could sense our good character and saw that a Great Spirit was walking with us so he felt compelled to welcome us.  How awesome is that?!  I had prayed many times that the Holy Spirit would walk ahead of us on the trails and here was a man saying he sensed that very thing!

They were so nice and they asked me to stay for tea.  I respectfully declined and here's where God's humor kicked up again...They offered me a thank-you blessing of avacados and not your run of the mill Haas variety that we find around here.  No, I'd calculate that each of these gigantic avacados weighed at least 1 pound each and they gave me 11 of them!!  Now, one of my worries was that I wasn't physically strong enough to walk the trails this year, yet here I was adding 11 additional pounds to my bakpack that I would have to carry for the rest of the day!  Very funny God!  Yet I was so honored by their gesture of thanks and almost felt like I had been "annointed" by the Avacados.  It was a pleasure to carry them with me the rest of that day.

With one of the avacados I tried to save.  It was shriveling by the time I took this photo, but it still wielded some weight to it!  I had given away all but this one.

We visited with others that day, of course, some believers and others just choosing to believe.  HEY LISA, I had 10 names on my list at the end of the day of people who made a decision to follow Jesus!  Your donation helped to make a definitive difference in the lives of these people but all I did was deliver the message - it will be God who brings the change!  Thank you again for your help.

The final bit of humor God threw my way was in regards to the children's ministry that afternoon.  Running a fun kid's group is not my forte' but I had spent some time the day before getting ready.  Problem was, I realized about an hour and a half before start time that I had left all the children's church materials behind in the van that morning and they were now enjoying a visit to the prisons!  Yep - my whole team had to wing it without any resources at our disposal at all!  That wasn't so funny, but we made it through.

It was a good first day on the trails of Akala.  The people were welcoming and the work satisfying.  We all survived and kept cheerful attitudes intact.  Our prayers were answered and lives were changed.  All the while I felt God's smile upon us throughout our day as if he took real pleasure in being with us.  I'm also pretty sure I heard him laughing!

I hope you enjoy your own laugh with the Lord today!

- Julie

Mission Accomplished!

We have returned from Kenya!  Our trip went amazingly well and there are stories to tell.  I will attempt to give you a day-by-day account but the posts will be slow in coming.  David is on his way to England and we will be sharing writing duties - with the time difference and the amount of work he is facing there, posting may come slowly.  Be patient and I know you will be blessed.

We were extremely blessed on this mission.  The team worked well together and everyone seemed to embrace a servant's attitude throughout the trip.  It all started with airports, of course, but even in our waiting time, I saw God at work.

For instance, we flew out of Houston, which is a 3 hour drive for us.  We arrived in time to eat a little lunch then sat around waiting for our first flight.  We all wore our Bondo team t-shirts and this young African man was sitting nearby.  Dave started chatting with him then he called me over.  I was introduced to Sean of Nigeria as the "author of the blog".  You see, he saw our shirts and wondered what Bondo was so he googled it on his i-phone and this website appeared.  He asked David about it and he told Sean that he was, in fact, married to the "author" of that very site!  This led to talk about our mission, etc. and before we finished visiting, this young man spoke blessing in God's name over our team and over the work we were heading out to do. 

After 9 hours or so on that first flight we found ourselves waiting in the Amsterdam airport.  Since we were headed to Nairobi there were many Africans waiting for the same flight.  One larger group had just finished a convention in Las Vegas (yes, the epitome of the impression you don't want to leave as an American) and they were passionately discussing the oil leak in the Gulf.  Because of our t-shirts, they struck up conversation with some of our team members about where we were headed.

[A quick shout-out to John Powell of Print This, San Marcos TX for the shirts that got our conversations rolling!]

I hadn't slept well on the flight so I felt zombie-like and kept quietly to myself, but what I observed in that room was a team of people already embracing the African people.  It was really beautiful to see how engaged many of our team members were in various conversations.  At one point, a man from the Vegas group grabbed David by the hand and drug him to the other side of the room to introduce him to the "Minister of Immigration" for Kenya who apparently had some connection to the Bondo region.  Dave said he was introduced then left alone with the man to visit.  Before it was all said and done they had discussed the mission and David was handed a Christian book that some man there had written about Joshua.

After another 8 hours we landed safely in Nairobi.  It was great to see Aidah and Morris again and to hug their necks on their home turf.  We were also happy to see two of our favorite drivers, Jimmy and Moses, who were scheduled to be with us all week.  It was a happy reunion there in the dark of the airport parking lot!

We were taken into Nairobi to the Methodist Guest House for the night.  It was there we ran into a *Mzungu couple that had been on our flight.  Dave and I, plus Tom and Brenda, sat down with them at dinner to discuss why we were all in Kenya.  They were school teachers from NYC who were headed into the slum of Kibera for the week. [check out http://www.kslum.org/aboutkibera.htm for more info].  Not only did we talk about mission work, but we also discussed homeschooling and we were hopefully able to answer some of their questions.

I suppose what I'm trying to emphasize is that the mission work wasn't limited to Akala, Kenya - it began in Houston and continued throughout our travels.  Scripture tells us that we are ambassadors for Christ and like earthly ambassadors, you just don't travel unnoticed.  If you're in the public, you are "on" doing your ambassador thing.  It was so lovely to observe the friendliness of our team in action throughout our travels.  I went to bed that night anticipating that this trip would be one of the best.  God would soon exceed my expectations!

Until next time -

Julie

*Mzungu = White person.  You'll be hearing this word alot from here on out.

Money Is the Easiest Thing for God

The start of this blog four months ago marked the start of fundraising efforts for our Kenya mission trip.  I have mentioned several times throughout this process that I believe fundraising is a balance between doing all you can and trusting God to provide everything you need.  That balancing act isn't always easy for me.  I seem waffle someplace between faith and worry.

We undoubtedly believe in the Gospel of Jesus Christ and we also believe in the vision Pastor Morris and his wife Aidah have for their homeland of Africa. We believe in these things so much that we were willing to take a risk and mail a few letters, park a few cars, sell a few trinkets and dedicate a little bit of money to serving in Africa once again. Still, despite all that belief we scrutinized our decision - especially in light of fundraising. Is it right to try this thing one more time? Should one of us stay home? Should we both stay home? Did we hear God correctly or is this all our idea?

As my dear friend, K.K. puts it, "Money is the easiest thing for God" and you know what?  She's right!

I'm so happy to report that our fundraising is complete and it was nothing short of an act of God - literally.  David and I had done all we could on our own and as part of the team and still we were about $3,000 short.  We were unnerved by that fact, but had to recognize that we had done all we could and the rest would have to be up to God so we prayed about it and waited.  The next day we were with our team leader discussing our funds when a good friend of ours calls up to say he wants to make a sizeable donation!  I mean we literally said something like, "It will be okay, God will provide" and within 3 minutes the phone call came! 

The next day, while depositing the donation, we discovered other unexpected donors had made visits to our account.  All in all, within a few short days we went from thousands due to a mere $400!  But God wasn't done showing off yet.  A few days from that point, there came other donors who felt moved by God to support our team until all of a sudden we found our whole team fully funded! 

The Bible says "It is more blessed to give than to receive" [Acts 20:35] and I'm starting to think it's true, because the feeling that overwhelms you when you are the recipient of generosity is not an altogether comfortable feeling.  I think they call it humility.

More than ever, I am acutely aware of the fact that we do not make this trip alone.  Yes, we go with God, but we also go with each and every person who felt led to support us in prayer and with their finances.  I am humbled and honored to do this work for God and on behalf of all those people who said, "Yes, we support this.  Yes, we support you."

Dave made a profound observation.  Even though he worked as hard as he could at fundraising, it wasn't enough.  He still fell short.  It was God who bridged the gap and brought our funding to completion.  The same is true for our salvation.  We can never be good enough or work hard enough to be holy and perfect.  Only God is holy and perfect and we are a flawed creation made in his image.  Yet he loves us.  He delights in us and He desires to be with us so God made the way.  He bridged the gap between us.  He did what we could never do.

"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.  For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him." [John 3:16-17]

We can never earn the way ourselves.

"For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do." [Ephesians 2:8-10]

We're excited to see what God has planned for the people of Akala, Kenya this year.  Thank you all again for your support.

- Julie

May Update: The Good the Bad and the Sad

Greetings All!

May was another full month around the Jacobsen household - some of it good, some of it not so good - but the preparations for our Kenya trip continue.

We found out that the specific village where the new church will be located is called Akala.  Akala is situated in Nyanza, Kenya - not Bondo (as originally thought) although Bondo is very nearby.  I'm not going to change the blog name or anything at this point, but it is great to know the name of the actual place where we will be ministering in.  What we don't know yet is the name of the pastor, but I'm sure we'll have it soon.  I suspect the new pastor is finishing up his studies at the bible college right now and getting ready for graduation and his move to Akala.

Please note the changes on the blog header, specifically the scripture.  This is the passage we chose for our team t-shirts.  We will wear it proudly as we travel to Kenya on July 17th and since many of our translators will receive shirts as a thank you gift, this vision of heaven will continue to be seen throughout Kenya and Uganda when our native team members head back to their homes.  Cool, huh?

This scripture is a description of heaven and thinking of heaven reminds me of how much I love worshipping with our African brothers and sisters.  Every morning in-country we meet together in the new church building to worship and pray together then receive a short devotional before heading out on the trails.  Our hosts are very kind to sing some songs in English, but my favorite part is when we sing in Swahili or Luo.  I have very little idea of what the actual words are, but it doesn't matter.  I just sing in English then listen as our collective languages melt together in harmony and fill those little churches with lush and unabashed worship to God.  It is absolutely beautiful!

Now, for some good news, bad news and sad news.

Good News - Papa Gary ended up with back surgery, but is healing well and doing better every day.  Even though he is laid out in a rehab hospital, he still took the time to find himself a replacement for the trip. I'm happy to announce that Mr. Tommy Alford will be joining us this year in Kenya.  Tommy brings a wealth of life and ministry experience to the team, plus he's just a really nice man so we're excited to have him with us this year.

More Good News - Our team had a garage sale yesterday that went very well.  So many people helped to make our fundraiser a success from the generous people who gave us their junk uh, I mean treasures
to the many, many people who stopped by to shop.  It was hard, sweaty work, but it was fun to hang out with team members and I'm so thankful we were able to do it.  A special shout-out of thanks to the Wimberley Christian Church who allowed us to have the sale on their property (prime location on the edge of downtown) and to Tom and Brenda Cavazos, two of the most dedicated and hard-working people that I know.

We are parking cars at Market Days NEXT WEEKEND so come by and support our good cause!

Bad News - Many friends and family have blessed us with financial donations towards our trip and I thank you so much for your generosity.  I have a long list of thank you notes to write, yet even though our fundraising has gone well, David and I are still not fully funded for this trip.  With the knowledge that airline tickets must be purchased this next week we have been scrutinizing whether or not we should both be going this year.  We honestly do not feel led by God to cancel out at this point but yikes - the trusting God for provision (in this case, financial provision)  is hard for me!  Would you please pray for us?  Seriously, we need it and this past month, more than any other, God has emphasized how precious and important our prayers are.  Which brings me to...

...Sad News - Our friends, the Patterson family, lost a precious daughter this month when God saw fit to bring her home to him much earlier than any of us wanted.  You may have noticed Chrissie's prayer button on our blog and hopefully you clicked onto the link and already know about her.  If not, please do.  Her struggle for life since April 19th was difficult, yet beautiful in so many ways.  God worked real miracles in and around the Patterson family and although things didn't go the way I wanted them to, my faith has grown as I have prayed and wrestled with God over the fate of that little girl.  I couldn't really give a May update without mentioning Chrissie to you because I have been mentally and spiritually very occupied with her since April. 

As my African family has taught me, "God is good all the time - All the time, God is good" so I choose to trust in him alone even when I'm worried and anxious and especially when I am sad. 

Hope you all have a great Memorial Day!

- Julie

Day 9 - S*x Talk

Did you enjoy our little video yesterday? That pretty much sums up things on the food front around here.

We are starting to get into a groove. I actually made a bean-burger today served on flat bread...not homemade (thank you Cosco) but it was good and the kids felt like they were getting a treat. Remember, our boundaries during the week are African ingredients not necessarily prepared in an African way. Mid afternoons are the hardest for all of us so I'm going to need to work out a better snack situation. No other food interest to report.

I had a "teenagers and dating" talk with a friend of mine today that brought to mind a story I would like to share with you.

During our time in Africa, not only do we travel hut to hut sharing the gospel, but we also work with local student groups taking teams into the schools to have assemblies. How refreshing to have the gospel message welcomed in school as opposed to being censored like we do here in America! On Saturday of our trips, we participate in Student Conferences. These conferences are held in one school but attended by secondary students from a variety of schools in the area (High Schoolers). The schools perform for one another, officials make speeches and our team shares a message about living the Christian life. Both years I attended conferences, we have ended the day dividing the group into genders to have s*x talks and answer questions. The students are able to anonymously write down any question they have and we sort through them (for duplicates) and try to answer as many as possible.

My first year at a conference I had a wonderful, poignant experience that I hope never to forget. My second year was also profound, but in a much more humbling way, still, I hope never to forget it either.

You see, we had translator issues during our girls assembly and because of it, we weren't well understood. In addition, the translator was one of the female teachers and she seemed anxious to shut everything down so that the girls could get home before sundown. We did not get through many of the questions under these circumstances. It was frustrating and because I was the adult woman on our team trying to help younger team members through this experience, I felt like I had failed in some way.

I should stop to explain here that one question/comment was repeated numerous times in the stack of notes we were given from the students; it was a question regarding fear of s*x. It was asked in a variety of ways and I was all prepared to give a nice, neat, Christian answer for how s*x was designed by God and it was good within the context of marriage. Circumstances never allowed me to answer that question, which would turn out to be a good thing.

The girls session was ended abruptly and I was frustrated. As the students poured out of the classroom, I stepped outside for fresh air. I was irritated to see that the boys assembly was apparently going quite well on the other side of the school yard. Looked as though they were focused and embroiled in deep conversation. Boo-hoo for me (yes, my pity-party had begun).

Then a young lady named Agatha introduced herself. She explained that her question was never answered and she wondered if I might speak with her about it. We stepped aside for privacy as she explained to me how she had been raped earlier in the school year and was now fearful that she was going to die. She despaired that all of her parent's hard work to finance her education was now for nothing since she would more than likely die of AIDS. She then asked me if her rape meant she would no longer be welcomed in heaven.

I'm leaving out many details, but I assure you that her story was horrific. I did my best to assure her that she was the victim and that God did not pass judgement on her at all. I explained how faith in Jesus Christ was the way into heaven, pure and simple. Her salvation was secure. I tried to love on her and share God's love with her. I also encouraged her to seek counsel from a trusted female teacher at her school.

Now I understood more clearly all those "fear about s*x" questions. They weren't fearful of the natural act of intercourse, they were scared that all s*x led to physical death - literally.

I don't totally understand the reasons why so many Africans are still un-educated about safe s*x and the spread of disease. I do know a little bit about tribal practices and ridiculous superstitions that affect the s*x life of many African men - like the belief that if you have s*x with a virgin you will rid yourself of AIDS. This may explain why rape is so prevalent many places in Africa. I don't know. All I do know is that young Agatha is just one of many young ladies dealing with the shame and fear of being raped.

I pouted for a while after that conference and I believe God let me go through that process so I would better understand the difference between His agenda and my own. You see, my American view of success meant confidence, compliments and lots of students coming to the Lord. I left that experience feeling like an utter failure.

In retrospect I have to believe that no matter how poorly I felt like the rest of that day went, perhaps God had me there for that ONE. I know for a fact that God cares for that one girl and he knows her by name: Agatha.

As I recount this story to you I feel sad once again that my heart can sometimes be so contrary to God's and I feel sorrow for Agatha. However, I stand firm in believing that no matter what cultural differences exist in the world, there is only one true answer - one path to lasting change.

His name is Jesus.

"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him." - John 3:16-17

- Julie

[FYI, I had to misspell the word s*x throughout this posting because apparently there are perverts who like to hijack other people's web addresses and use them for their own perverted purposes...ugh.]

Day 4 - Pineapple: The International Sign of Hospitality

When we lived in Boston, I took a tour of Salem where I learned that Pineapple was known as the international sign of hospitality. Pineapples were placed in windows as a signal to people that you were home and would receive visitors. Many older homes in Massachusetts use a decorative garland of fruit over their front door at Christmas containing pineapples as the centerpiece. It was in Boston that I fell in love with the idea of pineapples. They are such friendly fruit!

Tonight we had our first dinner guests since beginning our African month. Our dear friends, the Ziolas, bravely joined us for an authentic African chakula of red beans and chipati. For dessert, we had pineapple. Now, I may have fallen in love with the idea of pineapple while living in Boston, but it was eating pineapple grown in Uganda that made me fall in love with the fruit itself. Seriously, the best pineapple in the world can be found in Kenya and Uganda!

Hospitality here in America seems very different than what we have experienced in Africa. There are very few people that I know who would be 100% okay with me just showing up on their doorstep un-announced, without invitation and not have anxiety on some level letting me into their house. Okay, we have some close friends who we have that relationship with, but I know I'm not always 100% peaceful about receiving spontaneous guests. I don't keep a straight enough house or a full enough pantry to be a good hostess on a whim.

When we walk the trails in Africa, we are sent out with one or two interpreters. We walk until we see a home with an open door, then we announce ourselves with a hearty "Odi-odi!" (Swahili for 'knock-knock, are you home?') I was told that if a door is open, that family is receiving visitors, but if the door is closed, they are not.

People not only stop what they are doing to sit down and visit with you, but they offer you the best seat that they have. Sometimes they offer the only seat that they have (which may only raise you a few inches off the ground). Both the Kenyan and Ugandan people are cordial and attentive to whatever you have to say. Their mannerisms are interesting; they don't really look you in the eye and when they listen they make small gutteral sounds to indicate they are hearing you. They also tend to have serious expressions, but when they smile...wow. Their faces just light up.

Here in the States, if I see somebody coming to my door holding a book, I assume it's a Jehovah-Witness and I try to hide. If I'm unsuccessful, I manage to politely send them on their way as fast as possible. Not so with the African people I have met. One thing I find fascinating is that they have respect for the Bible as a holy book whether they believe in it or not. So when we share the gospel in Africa we don't just spout off memorized portions of scripture, we actually open our Bibles and read from them so they can see that the words don't belong to us, but to God.

If I stop and consider what I have experienced, I can really learn a lot about hospitality from my African brothers and sisters. It's not about having nice things or plenty to offer, but about offering the best thing you've got - YOU.

How about it? Can we lay aside our American perfectionism long enough to just sit down and visit with each other? Can we quit being self-conscious about our shortcomings in order to "know" and "be known?"

Odi-odi! Are you home?

- Julie

Day 3 - Suffering?

Nothing spectacular to report on the food front. We were all about leftovers today. When I offered a choice between leftover beans or veggie stew the question was, "Do you have chipati to go with that stew?" When the answer was "no" we all opted for the beans.

There was a special treat today when a friend of ours brought cupcakes to a meeting we were having. They were to celebrate her 17 year old's birthday. Now, Kaleb was the only one of our children in attendance but he was sweet enough to nab cupcakes for each of his siblings. They were so ecstatic over those cupcakes you'd think we'd been fasting from junk for 3 months instead of 3 days!

Today we met with a local gentleman, Bill Johnson, who is a Marine Veteran of WWII. He was part of the surge on Iwo Jima. It was mine and Kaleb's second time to hear Mr. Johnson's war account, but I found myself once again transfixed to the details of his amazing story.

As he described the fervor of the young men volunteering for service after Pearl Harbor, I looked around the room at all the teenagers sitting there and wondered if they would have felt the same way. As he described the horror of war and the weight of responsibility in leading a group of 40 men on Iwo, I wondered if our boys had it in them to do the same. Then he posed a question to the group.

"What things do you think are worth fighting for?"

I don't know if they were being shy, reflective or just weren't engaged, but only one of the young men gave an answer. He said, "Freedom was worth fighting for." Mr. Johnson agreed.

Hearing how hard the servicemen worked in defense of our country and how unified and hard-working our country was in support of those men made me think about the comforts we surround ourselves with. Like food.

Now, food is necessary and I believe God gave us taste buds so we could enjoy the foods He provides, but here in the West we really take food for granted. It's so easy to run to the store to pick up any ingredient we want. Easier still to pay somebody else to cook it for us because we are too rushed to go through the process for ourselves. I'm not being judgemental here because I absolutely LOVE me some Mexican food on a Sunday afternoon and let's face it, my family would die if we had to live off the land (black thumbs over here). I just wonder what I would do in the face of true suffering. I've often commented that God must have known I was meant for this point in history because I probably would not have done well settling our country like a Pilgrim or pushing west in a covered wagon.

Which brings me back to Mr. Johnson. His time in Iwo-Jima was over when a hollow-tipped bullet ripped through his hand (which happened to be over his heart at the time) and landed him in a fox-hole with dead Japanese for a couple of days. Gangrene set in as he waited for a safe time to work his way out and back to safety (a relative term on Iwo Jima). He doesn't harbor bitterness over his experience, but he honestly wondered aloud over why he lived through the war and other men did not.

He found out afterward that he had an aunt praying specifically for him "to get shot in the hand and returned home safe." God was listening to her prayers, wasn't she? Knowing Mr. Johnson and all he means to so many people, I know it was clear that God's plan did not include him dying in the war. God is in control and he has a good plan for our lives.

So I'm trusting that God has me where he wants me. Suffering is part of life and God promises never to give us more than we can handle. The trick is handling it through His strength and not our own. I hope I remember these truths when my day of suffering comes. More importantly, I hope my children know Jesus before they have to face true crisis in their own lives.

Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good,
His love endures forever!

- Julie

Chipati Saves the Day!

My first trip to Kenya in '07 was filled with new experiences. Each day we partnered with translators and walked the trails visiting with people in their homes talking to them about Jesus then we came back together around 2:00 for lunch. Our hostess, Aidah Ogenga was (and is still) very protective of her Mzungu guests and makes sure to prepare American food that will not upset their systems (FYI, Mzungu means 'white man' in Swahili).


Then one day after a long dusty walk along the trails we were offered something new - a standard African meal - red beans and chipati bread. That, coupled with a bottled Orange Fanta or Bitter Lemon was like manna from heaven! Today, that manna came to our house.


The day started shaky with a breakfast of ugali. In the American South it is known as corn grits and in Italy it is known as polenta. Corn meal (prominently white, not yellow) is a main ingredient of the Kenyan diet. For breakfast it is prepared like grits and I think served with milk. Today I served it with a variety of toppings to try. Everyone ate it but I think I heard more than once, "So Mom, how many times a week do we eat this?"


[If any of you have ideas for topping our ugali breakfast gruel, please send us the love!]


For lunch I prepared a roasted vegetable stew that is technically Navajo, but utilizes all African ingredients. Since Africans make a lot of vegetable stews, I decided to go for it. To make it authentic, I made my first batch of chipati bread.


Chipati is an unleavened bread made from white flour and cooked in oil. NOT a healthy dish, but oh it is YUMMY (note the thumbs up in Eli's picture above). Chipati is another staple to the Kenyan diet and it serves as both food and utensil at a meal. We used it to scoop our stew and a few people actually fought over the two pieces we had leftover. I enjoyed making the chipati dough and I felt "one" with the bread and with my African sisters. Now if I can get my hands on a coke bottle to use as a rolling pin - that would be authentic!


Lunch was a totally different experience from breakfast yet it ended with the same question, "How many times a week do we eat this?" I noted a more optimistic tone over the chipati than I did over the ugali.


Just wait until they get the dinner version of ugali this weekend. I'll leave you with a hint: it is prepared so thick that it too serves as both food and utensil at the meal. Yum?


Until next time,

Julie

Day One - March Madness Begins

Whew! This has been an interesting day. I can honestly say that we haven't suffered one bit, yet I've watched my children wrestling with their desire for the "untouchables" that is, the foods that are off limits this month.

Let me explain the perimeters of our food experiment. During the week I will attempt to utilize ingredients that are found in a typical Kenyan diet, but not necessarily used in a typically African way. Every Sunday will be an "authentic" day where I plan to cook traditional African dishes so if you live nearby you might be invited to share a Sunday chakula with us (Swahili for 'meal'). I also plan on making the Sunday chakula one involving meat.

Another caveat, since this is primarily about saving money towards our trip I will not waste food leftover from February just because it isn't African. You may occasionally hear about Hot Pockets or Cheerios but I'll tell you like we've told the kids, once they are gone, they are gone until April (and really, they are almost gone already).

You may be wondering what exactly is included in the typical Kenyan diet. The staple foods consist mainly of corn, maize, potatoes and beans. Greens such as kale or spinach, cucumbers, tomatoes and onions are also mainstays. Meats are used less frequently and are either grilled dry (as in no marinating or seasoning) or cooked into stews. Fruits include banana, mango, papaya, pineapple, oranges, lemons and limes. I'm no expert, but my experience and my research bring me to the following conclusion; the diet staples are the same as many places, (such as Mexico) but the difference is in the way it is seasoned and prepared.

And now, I introduce to you all the players in this game and what they have to say about Eating for Africa...

This is my husband, Dave, enjoying his lunch of black beans and rice. He is on-board with saving grocery money this month but I've heard him say on more than one occasion, "I sure hope we get some sponsors to make this all worthwhile." He says the thing he'll miss most this month is orange juice in the morning and cereal for breakfast. Let me tell you, this is a man who has eaten cereal for breakfast since he was a kid and giving it up is no small sacrifice!



Here is my 16 year old, Kaleb, embarrassed to be having his picture taken, but also happy with his lunch. Of all the kids, he is the most optimistic about our ability to lay aside our Standard American Diet (SAD) for a good cause. Cereal is a big loss for him as well. He isn't a kid who is quick to change his ways so we'll see how he does with the whole breakfast thing.


Bethsaida is 13 years old and becoming every bit a teenager. Saida can't wait until she is old enough to travel to Africa for herself so she is on-board with our little bit of March Madness. She is a little worried about laying aside her main food group...sugar. She isn't sure how she will survive without brownies. She said, "You mean I can't even make them for myself? What if I get hungry?" Good thing there's peanut butter in Africa. It may sustain her this month!

Eli, 11 years old, is our conscientious objector. He has a long list of fast foods he is mourning over. To hear him talk you'd think we eat nothing but Sonic every day - or pizza. Yes, pizza is the one food item that Eli is going to miss the most and I tell you, we do eat pizza at least once a week. He had a hard time with lunch today. Beans and rice of any kind are not his favorite food, but he muscled through it and I'm sure he'll do great once he gets into the swing of things.

Our youngest is Ben, age 8. He claims cheeseburgers are his new favorite food and the number one thing he'll miss. Fortunately, Ben's 9th birthday falls right in the middle of the month and will provide an "oasis" of yummy for us all (because at our house, the birthday boy gets to choose the food for his special day). Don't worry, even with the one day break we'll still be eating for Africa a full 30 days.


Finally you have me, the evil mastermind behind this scheme. The thing I'm going to miss the most is the convenience of eating out (which we do too much) or just throwing something easy in the oven. If given a recipe, I can cook, but I don't consider myself very versatile in my repertoire. Just coming up with a basic menu for one week of March was a huge undertaking for me. In this picture I am preparing our mid-day meal. FYI, most Africans eat their bigger meal at mid-day. I plan on doing the same thing this month so that will also be an area of change for us.

I really have no room to complain about anything, considering the majority of Kenyan kitchens look like this: What you're seeing here is the back side of the Pastor's house from a church we helped to open outside of Jinja, Uganda in the village of Mugaluka (summer '08). Make's you want to kiss your cooktop doesn't it ladies?
That's it for now. Hope you'll come back tomorrow to hear more!
Blessings to you all.

- Julie

Allow Me To Explain...

...yet, how far back do I go?

Dave and I have been happily married for almost 19 years. My husband really enjoys telling people about Jesus. They call it "evangelism". When he was a kid he read those Christian comic books about smuggling bibles into China, flying airplanes into the Amazon, dying at spear-point for your faith, etc. I call that "crazy" - or at any rate, I use to.

I was happy for him, but I didn't really see myself as a missionary and I especially did not see myself as an evangelist, I mean, aren't those the people who stand on the streets hollering at people or those wearing too much eye makeup on TV? Nope, that wasn't me.

Over the years, God has blessed us with four amazing children. As soon as that first precious baby was placed in my arms, I started becoming less flexible to the idea of my husband going off into the world to smuggle bibles (or whatever it was that he wanted to do). I think they call that one "fear". For many years, and with each subsequent child that came along, my disregard for this "thing" God had placed inside my husband grew stronger. David talked to me less and less about his dreams of mission work, probably because my response always included something like, "Wait until the children are grown."

Then one day God convicted me to give up my irrational fears and trust him to know best for my man - the man He had created - and to give him permission to do whatever it was he felt God was calling him to do. I committed that attitude in writing and gave it to Dave in the event that I should falter and need a reminder. I suppose publishing this blog is another commitment, huh?

Shortly thereafter, I became challenged by the idea that "God so loved the whole world". What did it mean, exactly, to love the whole world? I asked God to teach me more about that and to change my own heart on the matter. Exactly one year later, I was on a plane to Kenya without my husband, going out into the world that God loves so much, to tell people about his son, Jesus. Yes, that is called evangelism and I'm pretty sure for that trip you could call me a missionary. Isn't God's sense of humor fabulous?

We have now done short term missions to Africa 3 years in a row. As we look forward to another trip this summer, I'm beginning to see that the seed God planted in my husband so long ago is growing into our family tree. We desire to go where God wants us to go and do what he asks of us. Is that still scary to me? Yes. But as I have learned from my African brothers and sisters, "God is good all the time! All the time, God is good!" so I choose to trust him.

Which brings us to fundraising. We want to approach it a little differently this year. In an effort to be more resourceful I have asked my family if they would be willing to eat beans and rice for a month. I reasoned that if we were frugal enough, we could save half our grocery budget and put that money towards the trip. As we worked out details, the beans and rice idea evolved.

Starting tomorrow, March 1, 2010, the Jacobsen family will begin eating like Africans as well as eating for Africa. I'll explain more about that as we go along, but for now, I hope you'll stay tuned.

May God Bless Your Day!