"Daddy, are we going to live in a bush?" The inquiry was born in the imagination of a young child grappling with the idea that her family would one day be living far away in a strange place. The exotic landscapes she knew were limited to the books, movies and tv shows that had painted the pictures of her favorite stories. So when we told our children that our family would one day be living in Africa in order to serve God and help people, our daughter naturally placed us in whatever images she could conjure from the little storehouse of her mind's eye. From the beginning of this trek, we gave them freedom to ask whatever questions they wanted to know. When you open that pandora's box, you get a mixed bag, a menagerie of inquiries from humorous to honest and, sometimes, fearful.
At the start, over four years ago now, we did not have a particular African country in mind.
We just knew that we had a longstanding desire to go, had some skills to offer and, upon finding opportunities available, started walking. Hence, we did not know what kind of living arrangements we would have either. All I could say in response to my daughter was, "We may live in the bush, but not in a bush." (With a subsequent explanation of "the bush" as a wild or untamed location.)
In reality, little has changed since that time, except for nailing some larger questions of where and when we would be going to live and serve internationally. But one of the greatest blessings I have found in this process of preparation is the interest of our friends, family and colleagues expressed through their questions about our move to Kenya. Everything from "what will you eat" to "will you live in a hut" to "what kind of work will you be doing?" Questions about culture, politics, weather have all come from the genuine care and, often, concern of those with whom we share our vision and plans. Tracy and I welcome all of these questions, from the serious to the absurd. The truth is, we have only a handful of specific answers to offer at this point.
At first, this was very disconcerting. And it often still is. But like the sun lighting up the moisture dense air of a foggy day emerges an old stalwart command from scripture. "Trust in the Lord with all of your heart and do not lean on your own understanding." We have entered
into a new arena of experience with the reality of trusting in the goodness and greatness of our God. And there is a part of me (the cheeky and somewhat reckless part I suppose) that has come to relish the answer, "I don't know." Because in reality, I don't. And I don't always have to, either.
If you are reading this, we would like to welcome you to continue engaging us with all of your questions about our approaching life in Kenya. Though you may not be able to top my all time favorite one, offered with such innocence and sincerity that I hesitate to share it at the expense of the inquirer. My favorite question yet is, "Kenyans run really fast. Will your kids be able to run fast after living there?" If we live in a bush, I suspect they may have to do just that.
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