Weekend in the Great Rift Valley

"These are the days of miracle and wonder."

If you point the compass northwest and follow the needle out of Nairobi for an hour and a half, the landscape on the left side of the road will suddenly give way to a deep crater. This is your first glimpse of the Great Rift Valley. The two-lane road hugs the side of a cliff and as you wind down, baboons skitter along the road. If you fancy some souvenir shopping, you might stop at the precariously perched World Trade Center Curio Shop or perhaps the Facebook Curio Shop (beyond the names, there doesn't seem to be any correlation between the shops and the World Trade Center and/or Facebook). Gradually the pavement levels and gives way to the lush green of the Valley. A resting volcano, Mount Longonot, looms on the west and hills grace the east. Dotted with billowing clouds, the sky is vast and blue, and growing tall and strong are prickly cactus trees. The air is dry and thin and it slips easily over your palm hanging out the window. It reminds me of home.

With three curious little boys and a raging birthday party at the neighboring house, the weekend wouldn't be classified as peaceful; and yet, in the brief snippets of calm, there is quiet in the Valley. It is the kind of still that magnifies every soft sound, amplifies each step on the rocky path. The wind rushes past in a whistling whisper and the sun beats sweet and clean on the tall grass. The cottage we stayed in was constructed almost entirely of glass and the gardens were manicured in that wonderfully wild, natural way.

I love the times when I can travel, but my day to day life in Kenya is far from exotic. Living in Africa is an adventure, but, just like at home, it's unrealistic to think that each day will involve going on safari or visiting vast natural phenomenons. I love traveling, feel alive on the road, but the significance of the lessons that are being taught me in the quietness of my everyday life are not lost on me. They are not always easy to learn and yet, through it all, there is grace upon grace upon grace.
 

A rest stop at Delamere petrol station to stretch our legs and for surprisingly good iced lattes.



I am now so used to driving on the left that it will be a bit of a shock to drive on the right in the States again.
 

Cactus trees along the way.
 

Josiah and Elijah shooting the breeze at Delamere.



A herd of goats and sheep stop for a drink.
 

First glimpse of the cottage.



I think all living rooms should be encased in glass.



Zebras on the golf course...that's normal, right?



Dining room views.
 

Lake Naivasha



Wished I could bring this rug home with me.



Elijah gets some help with his chocolate pudding from his Papa.

On leaving / Wish you were here



I wonder if sometime you'd tell me what it's like to stay--to be grounded, to keep roots in one place instead of ripping them out over and over in thick, messy clumps. In the meantime, I'll tell you what it's like to leave: it hurts like hell. There's nothing romantic about feeling the solid ground torn from under your feet and having sown in your chest a constant overwhelming ache that leaves you on your knees sobbing in the shower, begging for the pain to ease. What have I done? you ask. And, My power is made perfect in weakness is the reply day after heavy day.

That heart-wrenching walk out the door is paramount, and yet, I still wonder what life would be like if I hadn’t left. What if I hadn't divided and folded my entire existence into a suitcase and a 46-liter backpack and headed south? Would I be less of a girl (the word woman still sticks in my throat) than I am now? Would I be weaker, more dependent, more unsure? Or would I be stronger, more independent, and more sure?

For 17 years my soul searched for home and the second it left, it realized it'd been at home all along. The other night I skyped with my German professor—she’s more my friend and mentor than professor, really—and I told her about my life and she told me about hers and I’m so dang far from home but I’ve never felt closer. Picturing my life in the future isn't something I've ever been much good at, but becoming an adult in Africa certainly wasn't part of those imaginings. They say truth is stranger than fiction and "they", whoever they are, are right. 17 felt like a hundred years, a thousand fragments stitched together into a lifetime.

Still, I don’t think I’d have it any other way. Tonight I blew out the candles and I didn't make a wish. Life is ferocious and ugly and dismal and hard and messy but without the downs there couldn't be the rich and joyful and dazzling ups. I miss home like you wouldn't believe but all that is left in me is gratefulness. My Jesus has helped me through these past 18 years and I'm confident he won't ever stop helping me through the next 18 years.

My cup overflows.

(But I still wish you were here)
 

  "A man does not always say to himself, 'Hullo! I'm growing up.' It is often only when he looks back that he realises what has happened and recognises it as what people call 'growing up.' You can see it even in simple matters. A man who starts anxiously watching to see whether he is going to sleep is very likely to remain wide awake. As well, the thing I am talking of now may not happen to everyone in a sudden flash--as it did to St Paul or Bunyan: it may be so gradual that no one could ever point to a particular hour or even a particular year. And what matters it the nature of the change in itself, not how we feel while it is happening. It is the change from being confident about our own efforts to the state in which we despair of doing anything for ourselves and leave it to God.
   I know the words 'leave it to God' can be misunderstood, but they must stay for a moment. The sense in which a Christian leaves it to God is that he puts all his trust in Christ: trusts that Christ will somehow share with him the perfect human obedience which He carried out from His birth to His crucifixion: that Christ will make the man more like Himself and, in a sense, make good his deficiencies."

Mere Christianity / C.S. Lewis

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cool things that make my world go round

books

+ Wild by Cheryl Strayed
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith
+ Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer
+ The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath by Sylvia Plath (duh)
+ To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
+ Clearing by Wendell Berry
+ The Dirty Life by Kristen Kimball
+ Hannah Coulter by Wendell Berry
+ A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini
+ Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis
+ The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck
+ The Crazyladies of Pearl Street by Trevanian
+ The Coal Tattoo by Silas House
+ Toxic Charity by Robert Lupton
+ As Hot as It Was You Ought to Thank Me by Nanci Kincaid
+ Z by Therese Ann Fowler
+ My Life in France by Julia Child
+ Carried Away by Alice Munro
+ Travels with Charley by John Steinbeck

daily reads

music

+ Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros
+ The Civil Wars
+ Ella Fitzgerald
+ Of Monsters and Men
+ Macklemore
+ Simon and Garfunkel
+ James Vincent McMorrow
+ Jack Johnson
+ The Avett Brothers
+ Lyle Lovett
+ Mumford & Sons
+ Foster the People
+ Jason Aldean
+ Luke Bryan
+ Katzenjammer
+ The Black Keys
+ Neil Young
+ Johnny Cash
....clearly i am a girl of extremes

links & such

to be continued
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