We had the opportunity this Sunday to travel by foot into the hills to a small village church.  My new Kenyan friend, Summary, invited us to join her at the church she is helping to build in her community.

We were off by nine walking about an hour, passing only huts and small tea plantations on our way.  We reached Kapsebet, and Pastor Rono met us at the road and led us to the door of a small wooden room.

Church was supposed to start at ten (but in Kenyan time that meant about 10:30). Slowly the church filled up as people walked from the hills above and all around to worship. We began with singing beautiful traditional hymns.  No one had a songbook except Summary, but the room filled with music.  The songs were sung in Kipsigis, but we easily could follow along in English to the familiar tunes.  Everything was accapella and echoed up the hill along the backside of the building.  There was one hand drum played that kept a beautiful rhythmic beat.  They treated us as honored guests and had lovely throws on the pews designating our special front row seats.  It was a wonderful morning, and we so enjoyed being a part of their service. They translated much of the service into English and made us feel so welcome.

My favorite part of the service was when the offerings and tithes were received.  Many people walked up to place their schillings in the basket, but what amazed me was that many people brought up fruits, vegetables and sugar cane.  Then at the end of the service, the items were auctioned off to the congregation and the profit added to the tithe.  This was such a tender time for us to see people who perhaps did not have any money to spare, but still wanted to give God their best, their first fruits and crops.  Someone bought the sugar cane for the children to enjoy after church; this was Jackson’s favorite part!

Pastor Rono asked Paul to close the service.  Then we walked up the hill where they, with the help of others, were able to purchase a piece of land and hope to build a building of their own someday.  Again, Paul was asked to pray over the construction and finances for this precious congregation.

After the service, we walked another thirty minutes to a home where we were invited for lunch. We had a traditional Kenyan meal of beans, rice, sakumawiki, chapatis (like a tortilla) and ugali.  She used what she had and served us her best. We’ll never forget her generous hospitality. It was a highlight for me to be in the village and be a part in a day of Summary’s family and life.  I especially enjoyed Summary’s children and fell in love with her three-year-old girl, little Flora.

We were “released” to go about 4:30.  In the Kenyan culture, the host literally tells you when you are free to go, and it is considered rude to leave before you have been given permission. We then traveled down the dirt road until we came to the Rickety Bridge.   By the way, the bridge is completely torn down, and the metal frame is up and ready for the work team in March to come and finish.  It was very exciting to see the progress and know that Summary and hundreds more travel this way everyday to come to work in this area at the compound or school. This meant, however, we had to travel over a makeshift bridge below the new one put together with logs and boards inches over the water….another adventure for my tired little family.  I am sure you have read in a previous blog that not everyone in my family was feeling well by this time.:o)

Needless to say, we were early to bed that night after such a full day, some of us doing better than others.  It was such a wonderful way to spend our last Sunday in Kenya.

We could not speak the same language, we looked very different in the small sea of beautiful dark skin and much of the culture was new for us.  But none of that mattered because we were there for the same reason, to worship and honor our Lord and Savior.

It was a glimpse of heaven.

~Jenn

Not long after we arrived here at Tenwek, my girls asked me if it would be possible for them to be baptized just below the waterfall in the river not far from the hospital.  I asked them to think about it for a few days before we made our final decision.  About a week ago, all three sat me down and told me they had made up their mind and wanted me to baptize them in water before we left Africa.

So last Wednesday, we made our way 15 minutes down the rocky path that leads to the river.  A few of our friends came with us making the moment even more special by their presence.  When we arrived, I talked about how proud Jenn and I are of each of the girls for their decision to make Jesus the Lord and Savior of their lives.  Dr. Russ explained how baptism represents the fact that we are cleansed from our sins by the sacrifice of Jesus and that when we are baptized, we leave our “old life” in the water and we are raised to a “new life” in Jesus.  We then had a prayer, and the four of us climbed into the cold water as mom and Jack watched and took pictures from the bank.

My usual routine when I baptize someone is to call the person by name and then say, “My brother/sister in Christ, because of your profession of faith in the Lord Jesus, I baptize you in the Name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit”.  I “held it together” until I called each of my daughters “my sister in Christ”.  I cried my own river of tears as I realized that my children are not only a part of MY family, but because they trust Jesus as their Savior, they are a part of THE family of God.  What a joy it will be for Jenn and I to spend all of eternity in heaven with our children.

As I baptized each of my girls in that cold, African water last Wednesday, I prayed that their baptism would be a constant reminder that there is a world out there that needs to hear and see the love of Jesus.  I pray that each of them–in whatever way God calls them–will be a part of going into all the world with the Good News.

From Africa with love,
Paul

There is a local culinary delicacy here in Kenya called “ugali”. It is pronounced “u” (like the “oo” in moon), “gha”, “lee”; with the emphasis on “gha”. What pasta is to the Italians, what tamales are to the Latinos, what hamburgers are to Americans—ugali is to the Kenyans. Even the mention of its name brings a broad smile to their faces, a warm sensation to their hearts and excited anticipation to their stomach juices. I think it is very similar to the same effect the mention of Blue Bell Rocky Road ice cream has on me.Most of the Kenyans I meet insist that I must try ugali before I leave. Several of my friends have offered to have me over for lunch and make ugali for me. Each time I have carefully but graciously declined. That is, until this past Sunday, when over lunch, the host brought in rice and beans in separate big pots that had been warmed over the fire. And then greens in a simple open pan. And then she retrieved out of the depths of her kitchen a small covered dish with her prized offering to us—ugali. What could I do? I had to be a gracious guest. She dished out a small portion of what looked a little like overly thick grits on to my plate. And she mentioned that if I mixed the ugali with the greens it would be the height of my culinary experience while here in Kenya. My thought was to cover the ugali with salsa and cheese, and perhaps, it would taste like an enchilada. I felt like I had to oblige her. The first bite was quite unremarkable—very little taste except for the greens. I became more daring with the next few bites—ugali alone. I must admit, it tastes like a combination of mashed potatoes and grits. My confidence was surging—so I finished my portion, complimented my host and had a sense of connection with the deep roots of the Kenyan culture.

What happened about 30 minutes later is difficult to explain. In medical terms, I would probably describe it as acute gastric distension with a component of severe, unrelenting gastrointestinal spasms. In Texas slang, I was just sick as a dog. I felt like a nuclear explosion started in my lower esophagus and reverberated all the way down to my toes.

We kindly thanked our host and commenced with our 45-minute walk home—yes, I said 45 minutes! The spasms worsened, I began to perspire, and each step of the way, it seemed like the intestinal nuclear melt-down was worsening. By the grace of God, we made it to our cottage. My family quickly offered prayers for my survival, and I created a concoction of Pepto-Bismol, Tums, Alka-Seltzer and Phenergan (don’t try this without medical supervision) and proceeded to bed, where I lay perfectly still so I could keep my ugali inside rather than outside.

I’m now 24 hours past my first ugali experience and am a little more positive about it than I was lying in the bed yesterday. The only residual symptom I have is some heartburn after meals—compared to the intestinal nuclear disaster yesterday, I am not complaining. I have given ugali a new name—I now call it “Oh Golly!!” And needless to say, I will never let this local Kenyan delicacy ever touch my lips again.

From Africa with love,
Paul

P.S. Perhaps this distress had nothing to do with ugali, maybe it was the enchiladas and pizza I had the night before!!

The cottage where we are staying is about 200 yards from the hospital.  The walk ‘home’ is winding, parts are rocky and even though there are a few lights along the way, it is very dark at night.  Last week I was walking home in the middle of the night.  It was cool, almost cold and perfectly clear, not a cloud in the sky.  There were more stars than I have ever seen blanketing the African sky.  The moon was about a quarter and two stars (maybe planets) looked so big that I felt I could almost reach out and touch them.

I had just done a complex operation on a small baby.  The case had gone well.  The baby did fine.  And as I reflected on that little patient, I was so grateful that over 20 years ago I had spent 6 months of my life at Arkansas Children’s Hospital.  I was so thankful that Dr. Steve Golladay had shown me how to diagnose children with surgical problems, so grateful that we spent countless hours in the operating room together.  First he showed me how to do the operation (that I had just done), then he patiently watched as I did the surgery, then he trusted me to do the operation alone. And now over 20 years later, in a remote part of Africa, that investment has made a difference in a small child’s life.

And then my mind was flooded with all the people who have taught me so much—about surgery, about life, about what it means to be a follower of Jesus.  I’m so grateful to Dr. Everett Tucker and Dr. Hugh Burnett—my partners for many years in Little Rock.  Countless times I’ve been doing cases this month, and small technical “gems” that they gave me many years ago has made all the difference in a case going well.  Yesterday I was dissecting the superior mesenteric vein off the backside of the pancreas (a difficult and dangerous part of the operation) and their wisdom and instruction guided me the whole way.  I’m so thankful to Dr. Kent Westbrook who instilled in me principles of surgery that are still a part of what I do everyday here in Africa.

I’m so grateful for my dad who planted the seed of missions inside of me as a small boy.  His example and his passion to ‘reach the unreached and tell the untold’ is still a big part of who I am today.  I’m thankful to my mom who taught me, by her example, the love and compassion of Jesus toward people who are in need.  I’m grateful to my pastors and friends in Little Rock who reached out to me when I was hurting.  They taught me to run TO the wounded, not away from them.  I’m grateful to my brother who taught me the power of my thoughts, and my sisters and sister-in-law who show me how to passionately follow Jesus.  And I’m grateful to Duncan and David and Wendell and Simone and JT and MA (I could go on and on) who have demonstrated to me what it is like to walk side-by-side as friends for the long haul.  And grateful for Jenn, words aren’t adequate to convey what an impact you have made in my life.

I’m so glad that I had the opportunity to operate on that small child last week and I’m so glad that during a walk home under a starry African sky God reminded me to be thankful for the people who have made an investment and had a lasting impact on my life.

From Africa with love,
Paul

Happy Valentines Day! I hope your day was filled with Love. There was a Valentine’s party at one of the missionary’s homes for all the kids! We made Valentine cards for everyone….with very little resources. It was so much fun making them. I couldn’t wait until we gave them out! Yesterday there was a kipagenga which means ‘coming together’. It was very fun! I ate so much….which most of my friends in the U.S. aren’t surprised. Yes, it’s true…I do eat a lot!

And last night the girls and I baby sat three boys 5, 3, and 1. We wanted to give these missionaries a night out.  I babysat the littlest boy, he is so cute! There were no problems…until ‘bedtime’. Well, I’ll keep you posted.

Georgia Grace

We often refer to hospitals as “facilities” and we talk about how big they are, how many patients they can take care of, how many beds and operating rooms and the newest technology. But hospitals—just like churches—are made up of people. And people determine the level of excellence of the hospital; people determine the “tone” and “spirit” of a hospital. Let me tell you about the mission hospital where I’m working for this month.

Tenwek Hospital began as a missionary outreach when American pioneer missionaries came to this area in the late 1800’s. Because of the faithful service of one man, Willis Hotchkiss, between 1895 and 1935, a “foothold” for the Kingdom was established in this remote corner of Africa. Reverend Hotchkiss prepared the way for two missionary nurses to set up a dispensary on this site from the mid-1930’s until 1959. It was from this tiny two-room dispensary that patients were seen and treated, medicines were given and babies were birthed. I often think about what it was like for those two women, alone in a dark part of Africa, surrounded by all sorts of danger. It amazes me what courage and perseverance they must have had to do what they did. These two ladies prayed for years that God would send a doctor to Tenwek so they would be able to treat more patients. That prayer was answered when Dr. Ernie Stuery answered the call God had on his life and in 1957 began to make plans to come to Africa. In 1959, after language school, Dr. Steury and his family arrived at Tenwek Hospital. Under Dr. Steury’s leadership for over 35 years, and with the support of so many Christians all over America and all over the world, the hospital began to expand. A male ward was added, then a female, then a separate laboratory, then a cafeteria, then new “theatres”, then mission cottages for the resident missionaries, then a nursing school…and on and on.

Now I have the opportunity to take care of patients in those same male and female wards, send blood to the same laboratory, operate in the same theatres and sit at a computer in the dark of the early morning at one of the same missionary cottages. As I walk by the Hotchkiss Memorial Chapel and sit at the Sue Steury cafeteria and I meet Dr. John Steury (one of the sons)…I am reminded that when I serve at Tenwek Hospital, I serve in the footsteps of a long line of men and women who have courageously given their lives to advance the Kingdom and be the hands and feet of Jesus on the very soil that I now serve.

Last Saturday night, I was taking care of several patients who had traveled for more than four hours over very difficult and dangerous roads to make it to this hospital. I asked the resident physician who was with me this question, “Why is it that these men and women who are so terribly sick and injured would pass so many other hospitals and clinics to get here?” She answered quickly: “Because this hospital has a reputation, it’s known as a place where the hands are gentler and the words are kinder”.

The facilities of this hospital are important, but the “spirit” of this hospital is what draws people here. People drive long distances over terrible roads and walk for miles over the rocky hills because of the reputation of gentle hands and kind words. That reputation didn’t start with me, or the resident physicians or the current missionary staff. We are just a few in the long line of faithful people who have created the spirit of this hospital. And I know in heaven right now, Reverend Hotchkiss, and the pioneer nurses, and Ernie Steury are smiling, knowing that the hands are still gentle and the words still kind at Tenwek Hospital. May it always be so.

It is the goodness and kindness of God that draws men and women…

From Africa with love,

Paul

It gets cool in the evening here and every cottage has a fireplace.  We made a fire in our fireplace last night and the embers are still burning as I warm my feet, drink my coffee and write this journal entry.  It’s still long before daylight on Tuesday morning.  I was awakened this morning by a symphony of the songs and calls of what sounded like hundreds of different birds.  All I could think of is this:  “If He cares for the birds of the field…”  What a great reminder that God is in control and that He cares for us and He will take care of us and He will provide whatever we need for this day.  What a great way to start the day.

On a light note, as I was doing my rounds yesterday I began to think of the different expressions the people here in Kenya use that are different than what we use.  Let me give you some examples:  we say “flashlight”, they say “torch”;  we say “surgical tape”, they say “strapping”;  we say “E.R.”, they say “casualty”, we say “O.R.”, they say “theatre”, we say “the tire blew out”, they say, “the tyre exploded”.  One of my favorites, though, is when they have to excuse themselves to go and take care of an urgent need.  We would say “I have to go…” they say, “Please, let me first rush…”

I thought I would give you some snapshots of my busy weekend on call.  Over a week ago I operated on a man who was stabbed in the abdomen and had significant and life-threatening injuries.  He was intoxicated when He came in, so it was difficult to talk to him.  Fortunately (God’s mercy), he has done well and I discharged him from the hospital yesterday.  As I was reading through his chart I came upon this entry from one of the chaplains here at the hospital (every patient is seen by and prayed for by a chaplain every day).  The entry read,  “The patient gave his life to Christ Jesus today.  I led him in confession prayer hoping that God will sustain his salvation.”  As I reflected on this man’s life—a life threatening injury brought him four hours by car to a hospital where a missionary team helped save his life—so He could be introduced to our Savior.  I believe we will spend eternity with this man because of the ministry of this mission outpost.  When it’s all said and done at the end of the day, saving a physical life is important, but introducing people to eternal life is ultimately the most important thing.  What a privilege to be a part of both.

The “Casualty” was very busy this weekend.  The usual variety of things we see…broken bones, lacerations, infections, trauma from road accidents and the conflict that still sporadically happens here.  The emergency room is tiny and cramped.  There are probably 10 gurneys packed into this minute little room.  When I walked in Saturday night, there were people everywhere—every bed was occupied by a very sick patient, family members in all varieties of colored dress huddled by their bedside, doctors and nurses rushed from one bed to the next.  X rays were being taken; lab was being drawn—all in a space of just a few dozen square feet.  The scene was vivid, the smells were overwhelming, and the atmosphere was filled with urgency and uncertainty.  And yet when I walked in to this room…I had this overwhelming sense of being “at home”, content, alive, called…to what I was doing in that moment.    Somehow (for me), when I am immersed in a sea of hurting people it serves as a reminder that:  helping hurting people is the closest thing to God’s heart.  He cares (individually) about every one of the people in casualty, He cares about their family, He cares about their physical bodies, and He cares about their eternal destiny.  What an enormous privilege to be a small part of ministering to these hurting people.

On a different note, it’s been a long time since I haven’t had a car or haven’t been able to travel.  Because of the conflict in this region, we are not allowed to get out on the road at all.  So, to avoid going “stir crazy”, we have been taking walks on little foot paths over the hills to the different villages.  It is so interesting to see the women come to the mill to have their maize ground into meal and then load the meal on to their heads, and with a child strapped on their backs, make their way up and down these hills!  Most of the children run up and down the rocky paths without shoes!  Donkeys pass us loaded with cargo.  Children shepherd sheep and herd small herds of dairy cattle and goats.  Just about every where we go, especially in the evenings, the people carry small jugs or bottles and go to a local vendor who supplies them with a few cups of milk.  Since most don’t have refrigeration, it’s just enough for their evening meal or perhaps breakfast or tea…and then they do the same the next day.  The majority of the villages don’t have electricity, so they cook on tiny wood burning stoves.  When they are cooking at night, you can smell the onions and meat grilling on the stoves.  It smells just like the fajitas at Pappasito’s (a local restaurant in Houston)!  Occasionally, we will walk to a market and have a soft drink—served warm and with a straw!  The other day, one of the doctors gave me a cold Doctor Pepper—I thought I had died and gone to heaven!!

I’ll close with a simple thought.  When I first came to Africa for a summer missions trip after my sophomore year of college—I had this overwhelming impression that one day I would be back as a medical missionary somewhere in Africa.  I’m now 52 years old…and I’m living the dream that God placed in my heart over 30 years ago.  I’m a living example that…you can trust God with your dreams.  So, if you happen to be reading this blog entry…and you question in your mind that maybe the dreams that God put in your heart will never come to past—I want to encourage you, you can trust God with your dreams.  Seek Him first, delight in Him, trust Him…He won’t disappoint you.  “Now to Him who is able to do exceeding, abundantly above all you can ask or think, according to His power at work within you.”

Thank you Lakewood and thank you to our other friends…we can “feel” your prayers and your support.  Have a great week!

From Africa with love,
Paul

The former UN secretary, Kofi Annan, has been in Kenya this week along with other influential world leaders attempting to moderate a plan for peace. The violence has been decreasing for a day or so with only sporadic news of riots and bloodshed. I can tell the mood is hopeful because we were given permission to leave the hospital compound for a brief excursion.

I went by foot with Mrs. Linda into a nearby village to visit, Rachel, one of the ladies involved in her weekly Bible study.  We walked about fifteen minutes outside of the hospital into the village on the side of the sloping mountains to visit Samuel and Rachel’s home.  They met us atop a hill to walk us the rest of the way.  Rachel has been in poor health lately suffering with leg problems related to her diabetes.  She hasn’t been able to attend any of the meetings and needed some encouragement.  Samuel, admittedly, has had problems with drinking.  After Rachel became a Christian, the women in Rachel’s Bible study group began praying for his salvation and he eventually came to know the Lord.  He is a fairly new Christian, his walk has not been easy and he still struggles with the temptations of alcohol. Today he is at home, sober and very hospitable.

We were warmly welcomed into their two room stick and mud hut. Rachel and Samuel have 6 children, 3 grandchildren and many great grandchildren, many of whom live in or around their house.  Samuel farms and sells his crops to provide for his large extended family.

I could tell this was a special visit for Rachel and that she had made special preparations for us. She had a doily spread across her simple table and plenty of handmade wooden stools ready for us all to sit.  She had prepared chai and had her best mugs ready for us to use.

We discussed the state of Kenya, their hopes for peace, Rachel’s health, their children and their financial difficulties. We ended in a time of powerful prayer and thanked them for their hospitality.  It is the custom here in Kenya for each guest to say a word or read a scripture and address the hosts.  I thanked them for letting me share chai and fellowship with them, and told them that I knew Jesus was indeed the answer to all of their needs and He would provide. I told them I would share their story with my church at home and we would remember them and their family in our prayers.  As a special request to these sweet people, I asked for permission to take their picture to share with you.  They graciously agreed.

Please pray for the Kenyan people who are coming to know the Lord and are growing in their faith while overcoming poverty, addictions, sickness and, now, violence. Pray also for the men and women who are sharing their faith and encouraging them in their walk with the Lord.

Today I glimpsed into a family with struggles not unlike the kind many face all over this nation.  The difference is—someone introduced them to Jesus, the hope of the world.  I came away feeling so glad that I can pray for them and be confident they are safe in His hands and He is watching over them.

~Jenn

Good morning America! How’s it going?

Everything is great here in Kenya, we have just gotten back from church. I was so honored to be able to play a piano special at church. I played “All in All”.  It went well, everyone enjoyed it. Church itself was great, each week there are different speakers and this week the Kenyan dentist spoke.

Dad has been so busy in surgery; sometimes I think I’ll go crazy. The last few days he has been able to make more meals though…there has not been a single thing that I haven’t liked here (food wise). Everything is great; especially the pineapple.

Much love,
Georgia Grace

Hello…everything in Kenya is starting to feel normal again! Some of the head ‘people’ in Kenya have agreed to share equal power (I really do hope that works).  It could lead to peace or just the opposite. Yesterday we had a huge soccer game, everyone played! And after that we played a football game. That was so much fun! Oh my goodness we had a blast. At 6:30 we started to head over to Dr. Russ and Mrs. Beth’s house. There we had a Friday fun day. We ate pizza (homemade) and played Apples to Apples.

It is so different to have my dad come home at an unpredictable time everyday. I feel almost overwhelmed sometimes, because I am so happy for my dad. He is doing what he loves to do and I get to be apart of that. I’ve never seen this side of my dad before…I am so proud of him. And not to mention my mom, she has been incredibly patient with us! At times it gets hard we have to make due with what we have…and what we have isn’t much.  But we are making it anyway- just fine!

~Georgia Grace