Common Trials: Sharing Life's Experiences with Brethren in Kenya

In my last post, I shared a lesson learned from a little teacher all the way over in Kenya.  I'd like to share another lesson two other little teachers taught me, this time two little girls.

First let me set the scene.

Kenya is beautiful.  Most of our time was spent out in the middle of nowhere, near Lake Victoria, in the sprawling village of Kagan.  The country lavished its beauty on us...rich red earth; waving grasses; lovely trees whose tops seem somehow flattened; sharp-thorned acacia trees; bulbous lion's ear flowers; graceful animals; gorgeously flaming sunrises and sunsets.

The scenery was dotted with small homes of earthen walls and metal roofs enclosed in square courtyards edged with green walls of trees and bushes.  One or two roads eroded deep into the red earth, etching their ways across the countryside.  One such road lead the bumpy way all the way out to the compound where we stayed, past homes and fields, flocks of sheep and goats and herds of cows tended by small dark-skinned boys.

And the people...oh the people!  Beautiful faces, dark skin, ready smiles; hands and feet toughened from the hard work of farm life; gentle hearts brimming with generosity and hospitality. Unashamed of their love for the Lord.  Unabashed in the exuberance of their worship.

In the scenery and in their ways of life I found many differences from what was I was used to back home in the States.  In the people, I found more differences...but many similarities, too.  Especially as I watched from the perspective of a wife and mom.

People came from all over...wives, husbands, moms, dads, grandparents, kids.  Most came dressed in their Sunday best (to see the nurses and doctors...dressed in scrubs!).

People milled all over the compound, waiting to be seen.  And every morning and evening when we trekked to our host, Ishmael's, home, another crowd waited for us...small boys and girls, adorable kids, eager to play with us while meals were being prepared.  They were ready for any kid of fun...soccer, football, balloons, stickers...anything! (No TV or video games there!)

We had a blast with those little guys!

Once or twice, though, I saw coming out in them that little thing common to children (and adults!) the world over...that little thing called their "sin nature."  And I found myself saying same things I say so often to my own kids at home..."Share!  Be kind...don't hit...don't throw rocks at each other..." and so on.

And I was reminded that all moms and dads, even in Kenya, face the same difficulties and hurdles I do in trying to raise my boys to be godly, loving young men.

Another incident reminded me of the same thing.

We were in one of the gospel meetings we had each evening after the clinic was done for the day.  We were sitting behind a few rows of women, all standing and singing.  (Those dear people love their singing...and dancing!)

One woman a couple of rows ahead of us had with her a small, dear little girl, maybe about two years old.  This little girl cried and cried throughout the singing, seated on her mom's chair while her mom stood in front of it, singing and clapping along with the rest of the congregation.  The little one never let up, wailing and pulling at the back of her mom's shirt and skirt, though her cries were nearly drowned out by the enthusiasm of the music.

Finally, the singing was over and the speaking was about to begin.  The mom turned around to face her little girl.  She grasped the little girl by one upper arm, using that hold to pick her up (a common way to pick up their little ones, I noticed).  The woman then used her free hand to grab the back of the plastic chair and tilt it forward...and I watched as she poured out a clear liquid from the seat of the chair onto the dusty concrete ground of the church.  She then promptly sat in the chair (without wiping it off) and plopped the child into her lap.

A little later, still during the meeting, I watched as the mother pulled off the little girl's wet undies so she could run around bare-bottomed under her little dress.

Oh, how I smiled!  How very many times have I found myself in similar situations, over and over again, as I went through long, drawn-out months of frustrating potty-training! (Though, I admit, I handled the clean-up a little differently...usually I came armed paper towels and some kind of cleaning spray.)

And as I sat watching, still amused, part of a verse popped into my mind...

"No temptation has overtaken you but such as is COMMON TO MAN..." I Corinthians 10:13

And so I thought...about those little, every-day frustrations that have a way of needling their way under our skin and tunneling a burning path to our hearts and minds where they fester and ferment and threaten to ruin our whole day...or week.

Like...

CJ wet his pants.  Again.
Moses just WILL NOT nap!
If those kids don't stop whining and fighting I'll never get dinner on the table!

Or sometimes the issues are a little different...Sometimes the trials are "little," like potty-training and fighting kids.  But sometimes they're "big," like the trial faced by by little Cynthia and her parents.

I met Cynthia during our first day of clinic.  Sweet little girl, just three years old.  Ready smile, sweet giggle.

But scrawny arms and legs...and no muscle tone.  At three years old, she can't even hold her head up.  Can't talk.  Can't feed herself.

Cynthia's dad brought her in, strapped to his back with colorful African cloth.  He was quiet...and in his eyes I caught sight of a hesitant hope.

But, in our simple little clinic, there was nothing we could do for her.  All we could tell her dad was that she needed tests they couldn't afford...hospital visits they couldn't afford...and treatments and therapy they couldn't afford.

My heart broke for them as I watched Cynthia's dad stand, holding her tight in his arms, and walk out of my triage room.  Such a little girl...the exact same age as my CJ.

You and I also face trials and heartaches bigger than potty-training, difficulties like...

The bank account, credit card bill, and calculator just can't seem to get along.
We leave church or some get-together of friends feeling slighted, or ignored, or targeted, or defeated.
We leave the doctor's office...or the funeral home...knowing life will never be the same again.

I thought over these things...and realized in a new way...that these difficulties and temptations are common to men and women the whole world over!

This isn't to say that these things aren't hard, painful, or life-shattering.  It's just to say that other people experience them, too.

So often, when I'm going through a hard time, I focus on "poor me," listing off all the hard things life has brought me, all the painful things I've had to endure. Unconsciously I start thinking that I'm somehow special and set apart by these oh-so-awful trials.

When I think this way, in my mind, the whole world begins to revolve around me.  Everything else grinds to a stop and all I can think about is "poor me."

Watching those moms and dads and kids in Kenya reminded me that I'm not special and set apart by these trials...they're common!  And when I realize that there's nothing really that special or different about my particular trials, then I'm free to focus on others and the trials they're going through...and how I can help them.

Let me get back to 1 Corinthians 10:13.  This verse comes just after a passage describing the trials the Israelites faced in the desert.  Some of their trials were relatively mild...like the fresh fruits and vegetables conspicuously missing from their cupboards.

Some trials were harder...like the many dying at the hands (fangs!) of fiery serpents.

The Israelites faced these trials, these tests...and most of them failed the tests.  They grumbled.  They complained.  They rebelled.

And so Paul leads up to verse 13.  Here's the rest of the verse:

"No temptation has overtaken you but such as is common to man; and God is faithful, who will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able, but with the temptation will provide the way of escape also, so that you will be able to endure it."

Yes, life can be hard.  Yes, night after sleepless night rocking a sick infant can be so draining and so exhausting.  Yes, the dog vomiting on the carpet at just the wrong time can threaten to ruin your day.

Yes, a visit to the doctor or a visit from a policeman can turn your world upside down and hurdle you into hours and years of agony and grief.

But other believers the world over, countless myriads of them, have been through the same things.  They've cried, they've hurt, they've asked "why?"...and they've grasped Jesus' hand tightly, and He gently, tenderly, has led them through.

And He'll hold my hand, too.  And yours.  And He'll lead us through.  We can stand the test.  He's provided a way out...a way through.

Sometimes we won't be "through" until we open our eyes to see the face of the One who held our hand the whole way.  But sometimes we're "through" the temptation the very instant we decide NOT to give in to grumbling, complaining, and rebelling.

Let's take that "way of escape."  Whether the trial is trivial and irritating or big and life-changing, let's hold His hand tight...and trust Him...and He'll lead us through.

Just like He leads the believers in Kenya...in all of Africa...and Europe...and Asia.  The whole world over.

"This I recall to mind, 

Therefore I have hope.  

Through the Lord's mercies we are not consumed, 

Because His compassions fail not.  

They are new every morning; 

Great is Your faithfulness. 

'The Lord is my portion,' says my soul, 

'Therefore I hope in Him!' 

The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, 

To the soul who seeks Him.  

It is good that one should hope and wait quietly 

For the salvation of the Lord." 

Lamentations 3:21-26

I didn't get any shots of the little girls in the stories above, but here are some of the sweet kiddos we played with.

 Barbara, Adam, Joy, Trezi, Josh

 Joy in action

 Adam.  Love that smile!

 Trezi

Barbara