Mud and all…

When it rains in Kipkaren, which right now is everyday, it pours. Living in a rural environment, rain is never considered an inconvenience. It is seen as a source of blessing that nourishes our food supply. Our roads, on the other hand, become a slippery, muddy mess; and all forms of travel become an adventure.

After a full day at Kimbilio Center, I set out to walk home. It is only a mile’s walk; but within a few feet, I knew it was going to be long. I carefully proceeded down this hill; and, in what felt like very slow motion, contorted in a way I had no idea my body could bend, I fell. Lying in the mud, covered from head to toe, I quickly looked around to see who might have witnessed the “mzungu” (the white person) fall in the mud. Knowing that I would be the talk of the village, I tried to get up but only slid further.

After regaining my footing, I proceeded further down the muddy trail and awkwardly encountered a man who had decided to go to the bathroom right in the middle of the path. Unsure of how to handle the situation, as it is normal to stop and greet everyone with a hand shake, I decided to pretend as if I did not notice the man right in front of me and kept walking. All the while, I am covered in mud.

A quarter of a mile further I reached the stream portion of the walk where I normally pass over on rocks; however, the stream had flooded and the rocks were buried somewhere underneath the roaring waters. I paused for a moment to consider my options and then decided to wade through. With every step, I prayed, “Oh God, please keep the snakes far away.” Once I safely reached the other side, I began to laugh at myself. Now, I was not only muddy but also very wet.

As I continued on my walk, I reflected on the day. As crazy and comical as getting home had become, it felt minimal compared to the gratefulness that was within me. Throughout the day, I had experienced God in simple and tangible ways provide. For the man suffering terribly with widespread cancer, some temporary relief was found. For a lady who had been rejected and literally left alone to die, she was welcomed to our home. As she arrived, she said, “Surely, God did not forget me.” And for me, there was a moment when an orphaned child ran at full speed, with arms wide open, to hug me. Her embrace reminded me, once again, how extravagantly God loves me- mud and all.