“My Devotion”

Tuesday morning dawned early for me as usual. But instead of having nothing to look forward to in those first hours of waking, that morning, for the first time in four days, I got to take a shower. OK, I only used two pitchers full of water, but it is indescribable how refreshing just that much clean, cold water can feel being poured over your bare skin. It was also one of those many times in my life when I appreciated my short hair. I didn’t want to use even one extra drop of H2O on my hair when it could run over my body instead.

Well, that probably wasn’t the picture you wanted, so let me move on.

That morning it was my turn for devotions. Months before, in anticipation, I had found a Bible passage discussing orphans and thought it would fit perfectly. Unfortunately, when we were packing for our week away from Nairobi, I had forgotten to slip my Bible into my bag. The night before I had pulled out Val’s Bible and opened it to Ecclesiastes 3. Every line from that chapter of the Bible reminded me of something we had witnessed so far on our trip. Perfect, I thought, absolutely perfect.

I already wrote a book – a very short one – about what I had to say that morning and here it is reprinted for you (in several parts).

For everything there is a season and a time to every matter under heaven.

A time to be born and a time to die. While in Nairobi’s Mathare Slum, our team members met many victims of AIDS. This young mother, Eunice, was too weak to get out of bed the day some of our team members visited. Whatever food she was able to obtain, she gave to her baby or her two other children.

A time to plant, and a time to pluck up what was planted. Pastor Joseph had just the day before been sharing his irrigation system and gardening techniques with us. He also was teaching them to the local Maasai. Up until this time, the Maasai had been letting their cattle and goats graze free-range, which destroys the eco-system. It also means that the Maasai are not making a balanced diet available to themselves. The ability to farm will help them to become healthier and more self-sufficient.

A time to kill. When we first arrived at Mosiro, Dave purchased several goats from the Maasai. Every day one or two of the goats would disappear and later reappear on our dinner plate. I wish I could say that the goat meat grew on me; but it seemed that with every meal, the meat just got tougher.

And a time to heal. While in Mosiro, we spent two days holding a medical clinic. Most of the Maasai had never seen a doctor before. Some of the most common ailments were upper respiratory infections, skin infections, and eye infections; everyone got treated for intestinal parasites.

(continued next time)