Her Name is Marilyn

At 14, she stands a few inches taller than me, her body still lanky and still to be grown into. Her smile, wide, her eyes, hopeful and the grip of her fingers on my arm, tight.

"Bet-ty, do you remember me?"

Scanning her face, I frantically search my brain- she is familiar, but where from? Joska last year? Modoya? I want to remember - this moment feels important. Don't we all want to be known, to be remembered? To be seen amongst the crowd of faces that crowd around us each day. 

"I do remember you" I reply slowly, still reaching for a name. Esther? Priscilla? Faith? 

Her grin grows and her eyes light up. My heart sinks a bit as I make a decision- it's better to admit defeat than say the wrong thing. I pull her in tight for a quick hug.

"But I'm sorry, I seem to have lost your name."

"It's Marilyn. I remember you from school"

Modoya. 4 years ago.

We spend the next hour together. I learn of her siblings (she is the firstborn of 3, the other are still in Nairobi), her talent (the high jump) and that she knows all the words to the theme song of Sophia the First (of course, there was a performance).

As the bus pulls away, there is another high five. And as I went to bed last night, listening to the rain fall, I prayed a prayer for Marilyn. That she would know that God knows every detail of her life. That He cherishes every part of her. That she is remembered and seen and loved so deeply her heart can't comprehend it.

As for me? I asked Paul to take a picture of us together, and you can bet that if I'm ever blessed to go back to Joska, I'll remember Marilyn's name. Because I felt so blessed that she remembered mine.

 

Anywhere in the World

A few weeks ago in Flipt, we asked the kiddos if they could go anywhere in the world where would the go and why. Then we voted on the best answer and the trip we’d all take together.

The winner?

They wanted to go to Africa and tell people about Jesus.

I’m a few hours away from my 6^th trip across the ocean. I’m giddy with excitement, slightly nervous about the plane flight and hopeful that the weather will cooperate.  This week has been filled with late packing nights, hurried notes about things to not pack and text messages about what we should take for the rain. Phones charging for a 20 hour flight, out of office emails written, countdowns nearing completion.

Amidst all the hustle and bustle of getting ready, I have to remind myself to pause. To pray. To remember the most important thing isn’t whether or not I’ve packed the right SPF sunscreen or if we have pan flutes enough… the most important thing is Jesus. Sharing Him, Showing His love, remembering His sacrifice and the incredible gift He gave.

I’ve been ridiculously blessed… I still can’t believe I get to live this life. I love you all so much. I’m off to take a trip to the proven best place to travel in the world and be a small part of what God is doing there.