starting to love how god works

The day of the preschool graduation had finally arrived, and the school was buzzing with excitement. I was told that I would be walking with the students over to the neighboring school, which I was happy to do in order to get to know the kids better and get a bit of fresh air. i did my hair, trying to make it look alright despite it's awkward growing-out-stage, and i wore my favorite maxi dress and pretty white sweater. for the first time in a while, i felt pretty. it was only a few steps into our journey that I noticed the children were carrying water bottles and wearing galoshes or heavy-duty shoes. I shrugged it off, lifted my skirt a bit so it wouldn't drag, and continued. chatting with my new friends and laughing at the antics of the boys made time fly, and when I finally looked around, I realized we weren't in our neighborhood anymore. we were in a little village with dirt roads and mud houses and vacant eyes and serious faces. and there was a truck in the middle of the road, stuck in the mud. I hardly noticed any of that, because we were on a high hill, overlooking the hills of Mombasa. there were houses scattered on those lush green slopes and I felt like an elephant would walk by any minute (a cow actually did walk by, but it wasn't the same) and it truly sunk in that I was in AFRICA, and that Africa is wild and beautiful. I just gazed out across the land feeling the breeze on my face, when a river caught my eye. my first thought was of how lovely the river was, and then...wait-are those the students crossing the river? indeed it was. our journey was not a little walk through the neighborhood. it was a hike. a hike that involved walking through a river and, according to this slope we were standing on, a long downhill trek in the mud. 

the kids were removing their shoes and slipping and sliding down the hills and through the river, while I maneuvered my way down the hill as carefully as possible as not to soil my dress and praying for wings to fly over the river. alas, no wings were sprouted, and the river came more quickly than I would have liked. the kids looked on with great amusement, more than ready to see this "mzungu" do a little work. I took a deep breath, removed my shoes, pretended I was a hobbit on a long journey, and plunged on. it was slippery. walking against the current in slippery mud was difficult in and of itself, but walking against the current in slippery mud while holding my skirt up and clinging to my shoes and my little pouch containing my phone and a few shillings was nearly impossible. a student snatched my pouch and shoes, saying "TEACHER! please let me carry these for you!" and I was slipping and sliding too much to hardly notice. but while we're on the topic, I just want to say that every single one of these kids is a unique blessing from God. when we got to the school, a few girls washed my shoes for me because they wanted to. may the Lord bless these children. anyways, without my pouch or shoes, I was holding up my skirt and still slipping around. the boys laughed and laughed before taking my arms and helping me through. I squeaked and laughed and finally made it across, sipping wet and muddy. so muddy. I retrieved my shoes and my pouch, and continued. 

as we continued however, a very drunk man grabbed my arm and shouted. "COME WITH ME, GIRL! I WILL HELP YOU!" I was staring wide eyed at him when a 6th grader walked up and stared at him, talking firmly and loudly. and then he went away. once again, praise Jesus for these children! after more miles of hiking in mud, we made it. the teachers were there already, and they suppressed smiles at my crazy appearance and at my bare feet. I felt awkward and dirty and sweaty, but there was a bond formed between me and the kids that day. we braved the journey together, and I look back on it with fondness. 

lesson learned? vanity is bad. I'm a vain person. at home I spend hours on my appearance and I'm always wondering if I look okay. coming to Africa has been hard for lots of reasons, one of them being that I never feel pretty. the one day I did feel pretty, I started feeling confident and not as dependent on the Lord. it sounds ridiculous, yes, but it's who i am. as soon as I felt like I had a handle on everything, including my appearance, Jesus nipped it in the bud. thanks, Lord, for the water and mud and grass and sweat. it was a growing experience and thanks to Jesus, my attitude was shockingly POSITIVE. Praise the Lord for showing me that inner beauty is 273937x more important than outward beauty.