My thoughts, attitudes, and feelings have been occurring in an ABAB pattern for the last 4 days. Tuesday, I read my own post from when we first arrived in South Horr. I was surprised at how fascinated and "in love" with everything I was that day. Maybe an excerpt from my journal entry from days after we arrived will help you see how surprised I was at the contrast in attitude:
"Went to South Horr Primary after eating old bread and honey for breakfast. Met students in Class 8 (8th grade). Students were very bright and worked far more quickly and accurately than me, much less my students. Listened to staff meeting in Kisamburu (not English). Felt overwhelmed at how little this school had but how bright the students were and how the discipline, curriculum, and instruction/assessment methods are very similar to US. Excused myself to bathroom. Walked out back to small shed and opened door to find a filthy hole in a cement slab."
Just 24 hours before I was so in love with these people. Now I feel that although they are much different than me, they don't need me here. I can't offer them anything that they want. It would be one thing if I had to endure dirty living conditions and bad food when I was serving. But I don't even know what these people's needs are. Much less how to meet them. What was God doing in my heart? After much prayer, meditation, and re-reading emails from home, I felt better. And Tuesday actually turned out to be back to enjoyable (see the pattern?)
Which brings me to yesterday. I woke up feeling very nauseated. I was unable to eat the breakfast. I went to school and helped administer exams to 4th graders. I came home and was still unable to eat. I was lonely, tired, and thanks to a few more emails for you guys at home, more homesick than ever (keep them coming though:) )Here is an excerpt from my journal entry from last evening:
"God, I don't even feel like writing todays events down. Have you called me into this season of discomfort across the world under the false pretense that I would be serving? Is this you breaking me down? If so, I surrender."
And so the pattern continues and today was much better. I sort of took over the English and Math instruction for Class 8 and am enjoying my day.
This morning is when I had the realization that the most sincere conversations I had with the Lord, and the time when I was most mindful is when he brings me to my knees with discomfort and longing for the comforts of home. So today, I openly thank God that I was able to eat lunch. I thank him that the water doesn't taste like dirt this morning. I also thank him for the water I've had that does taste like dirt because it is still not going to kill me and will be a constant reminder that I am not entitled to anything.
The second realization that this ABAB pattern has revealed to me is that I am not here to bring Western Civilization ideas. I am not here to change. I am not here to modify or leave a legacy. I am here to serve. So everyday at school, unless the Lord reveals something different, I will walk into Class 8, teach the English lesson prepared by the teachers there, teach the math lesson with the strategies that Fred, Bonaface, and Joseph show me, and then sit among Kenyan Samburu teachers in a smelly room where I share a very small desk with another teacher and "mark pepas" which is grade papers. My new teacher friend, Joseph, who was sent to high school with money from an American family, walked me home today and upon hearing that I felt that I wasn't helping had this to say:
"Each paper you mark or lesson you teach is helping us. We love to see you here and know that you wanted to come and meet us and help us. When the people in this town see Americans, they know you are here to help us and bring us Christianity and education."
Stop nudging God. I get it.
So for now, I am happy. I have a full stomach (ham sandwiches today...what?! haha). I feel peaceful and content. And I had a good day at school. Tomorrow may be similar. Or I will be homesick. Or I will have no appetite for this food. Or I will face a challenge that I have yet to face. Either way, God gets all of the glory and to say that these past few days have been humbling is an understatement.
-Erin Gamble
Just another set of hands
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