I turned the phone off and put the projects I’m involved with on hold recently and with good reason. My son Shawn came to visit me here in Kenya and we had some exploring to do. Few dads get the chance or privilege to spend one on one time with their son exploring some of the wilder parts of Africa, I wanted to savor every minute.

We packed up the truck and left the blossoming Jacaranda and Nandi Flame trees of Kitale town and headed north through the fertile highlands of Trans Nzoia. Soon we began our decent down the escarpment of the Great Rift Valley, weaving through the mountains and emerged into the vast flatlands of northern Kenya, home to the Pokot and Turkana tribes. I’ve traveled this road many times before but this time was different, my son was riding shotgun and we were going to travel further north than I’d ever traveled before, unchartered territory for us at least.

It turned out the timing of our trip was perfect although we didn’t realize it at the time. Tremendous rains had caused massive flooding on the vast arid planes a couple of days earlier and the water had swept across the road in many places leaving mud, sand and silt in its path. Although the water quickly recedes as the sandy earth soaks it up we were grateful on more than one occasion that our truck had 4 wheel drive as we waded through areas where the road was still submerged, praying the water level would not come up too high over the engine. Our prayers were answered as we emerged on the other side and drove on passing herds of camels and goats driven by migrating Turkana tribesmen. Naked children played in the ponds of now still water remaining along the roadside and women carried huge bundles of firewood on their heads seemingly unaware it was even there. The once paved road is covered in craters rather than potholes nowadays caused mainly by the heavy UN trucks carrying relief to the war torn areas of Sudan. The road is so bad that for many miles drivers have abandoned it altogether preferring to travel on the softer side shoulder, grinding the gravel surface ever finer until vehicles are enveloped in thick clouds of choking dust.

Turkana

We eventually arrived in Lodwar, our planned destination for the day and spent the night with missionary friends who moved there 12 years ago from California to plant churches. We were very grateful for their hospitality and enjoyed the time after dinner listening to their fascinating stories. I was invited to return early next year and to travel with them into southern Sudan to renovate a building bombed out in the war. It’s to be used as a church and school, I can’t wait to get started.

We were told Muslim schools were being built all the way down from Sudan through northern Kenya offering free education, food, shelter, clothing and all the essentials for children who would attend. This is in an area where people are neglected by their government and in severe hardship and famine creating a vacuum of need, or, to put it another way, an opportunity for those who might fill that need.

It was over 100 degrees by 8 o’clock the next morning in Lodwar so we left our friends and headed off to our next stop Lake Turkana. A dusty track almost invisible in the sands was our road to Elye Springs on the shore of the immense fresh water lake. We would have been lost for sure had our missionary friends not sent a guide with us but the flat, firm, sandy plane was begging for full throttle and we duly obliged in exhilarated fashion. We barreled through the scrubby brush, paralleling the river lined with date palms for 30 miles until we approached the sand dunes closer to the shore. Those same date palms now offered a carpet to drive on so our vehicle wouldn’t sink in the deep sand. The rains had added an unforeseen benefit in so far as the sand was still damp and therefore firmer. We eventually reached the lake shores and set up camp. Curious Turkana women seemingly hidden in the date palms emerged hoping to sell their baskets and trinkets to their visitors. We bought f ish freshly caught from the lake and paid a local man to cook it for us over a charcoal fire. Full and satisfied we watched the sunset over the lake before we crawled into our tent, silent except for the sound of the gentle waves lapping the shore, we drifted off so sleep.

Lake Turkana

It was long back to Kitale the next day but by dusk we were home. But only long enough to rest, change and repack before we took off for the Kacamega rain forest, home off magnificent birds and primates it was in complete contrast to the environment of our previous few days. From there we took the night train from Kisumu on Lake Victoria to Nairobi and then on to Mombassa on the coast of the Indian Ocean. Another stark contrast in a land which, is so filled with contrasts it’s sometimes difficult to take it all in. I could write a book about our travels but now is not the time. Suffice to say we had an incredible trip, filled with fond memories. Shawn has been back home for over a week now and I returned to Kitale, trying to put the finishing touches to some projects and leaving others so work can continue while I’m away, for I to am due to make the 36 hour, 10,000mile trip home next week.

It’s been 6 months since I left home and I’m ready to see my family and friends. I reflect back to see if anything I’ve done has made a difference but the giants of poverty, decease and corruption are so big it’s impossible to see how. But I hear children playing outside in the compound of Brittany’s House as I write this. One was once abandoned, one sick with cancer, others in dire need of food and shelter before their mother got a job here. Dozens have been employment over the past 6 months, a widow who cares for 5 orphans was saved from severe malaria and sure death by $6 worth of medicine. A pastor is in training and a disabled child has a new wheel chair.

New wheelchair for Carolyn

A foundation has been built for a block of 6 classrooms and another for a dormitory, which, will oneday house 108 orphans in the same school called Runo. Four staff houses are being built at sister Freda’s Hospital, two springs have been developed and two bore holes have new pumps being installed ready to deliver clean water to a community. Some of you recognize these ventures because you were the reason they happened by providing support.

Freda's Hospital

Line up for lunch at Runo

These events were not my idea, I just showed up and had the most amazing time seeing them unfold. As if that weren’t enough I get to experience unforgettable trips exploring Kenya with my son and Congo with other friends. Is this what Jesus meant when He said I’ll give you life and life abundant? I don’t know but one thing I’m sure of, I remain in His grasp.