Dear Kenya, We Sing for You Your Song

Today, my prayers for Kenya are shaped by the simple, sweet words of her national anthem.

This is the first verse and I found it a good way to sing my prayers for a land that our family loves.

"Oh God of all Creation
Bless this our land and nation
Justice be our shield and defender
May we dwell in unity, peace and liberty
Plenty be found within our borders."

Dear God of all Creation, hear our cry.

Sponge Queen

This is how she gets those curls :-)

Condensed Milk

So I put our milk on to boil yesterday morning.

Why, you ask? Well, the milk I buy is fresh, as in still-warm-from-the-cow. We boil it to purify it.

Anyway, I put the milk on, let it rise up and stirred it down a couple of times and then I turned the gas flame off and left it on the stove to cool a little before putting it in the fridge. Only I didn't really turn off the flame. I just turned the flame to very low and thought that I had turned off the flame.

The morning went on and I was fully into several things. Heather and I were working on long division--the very bane of my life. I was also editing Colin's research paper (on the evils of sodas and the way they rot your teeth,) and working very slowly through an unreasonable inbox that seriously is so bulging I should just admit failure and join a recovery group.

I was quite proud of how effectively I was multi-tasking until Josephine came and asked me what I was doing with the milk.

THE MILK???

Good grief! I had left the milk simmering away for going on 3 hours. It literally was simmering away too. I lost close to a liter in the extended boil and what I was left with was, I guess, condensed milk. It had that smell of condensed milk as well as the beige color. It wasn't thick and it wasn't burned so, after my shock, I just put it away in the fridge as normal.

It was a big mistake but think of it this way--With my condensed milk production going on, I was multi-tasking even better than I thought I was!

Quiet Around Here...

It's been quiet on this blog as our last few days have been a crush of activity and a swirl of emotion getting Jesse off on Saturday afternoon. For those who are interested, his flight route was Kilimanjaro-Kigali (Rwanda)-Addis (Ethiopia)-Rome-Washington D.C.-Los Angeles. Goodness! Now he has a few days in California before heading to Belize, Central America, to begin a semester-long course in Creation Care. He's very happy that he'll be studying in the rainforest.

For us, it's a bit of a shock to the system to be just the 4 of us again. We all grieve the departure of the 2 older brothers in slightly different ways, from being grumpy to getting quiet to feeling teary. We also trade off which one we're using as our coping technique! "I'll be grumpy today; you be teary." Ha ha.

I remember years ago, when Jesse and Trevor were quite small, dropping my parents off at the airport in Nairobi to send them back to L.A. I was overcome with sadness at their departure. But then a wee little light went on. Maybe, instead of focusing on how sad it was that they had to return home, I could think about how wonderful it was that they were able to come out and see us at all!

It's a good idea... (But it doesn't always work.)

My Foolish Calling

My name is Lisa and I make tea. This is my primary calling in life. I’m not kidding.

OK, the actual tea making is NOT the primary calling. The tea making is a symptom, an out-working of my calling.

Let’s start that again.

My name is Lisa and I am a nurturer… And I know that my job description includes gallons of hot, black tea. (Milk and sugar are optional.)

But just hold on a minute, right here. I’m 45 years old. I have a degree in literature and more than 20 years of experience in cross-cultural leadership training. I am an excellent communicator and a darn good teacher. I am full partner in a 25-year (and counting) highly successful and ridiculously happy marriage. I have some sweet, crazy children who are turning the world upside down in beautifully rebellious ways. I am on the leadership team of the global prayer movement, 24-7 Prayer. I seldom write for publication (because I have too much laundry to do) but when I do, shoot, it gets published! I speak a difficult tribal language called Maa and I am the proud graduate of 10 years in the wilderness among the Maasai people. I carry a driver’s license from 4 different countries. That’s not particularly relevant but doesn’t it sound cool?

Geez! I hope you’re impressed with me!

(By the way, I’m feeling really stupid for listing out this selection of “credentials” but they do have a point so hang with me.)

Who cares about all that? None of those things really matter. In all of this, what I am called to above anything else is to offer love and nurture to those around me.

I hug. I touch. I put the kettle on. I listen. I probe. I pray in the night.

20 years ago I experienced miraculous healing of a malady that was really ticking me off. I had a brand new baby boy and I had chronic breast infections as I struggled to give him the only food I felt good about giving him. I was, as I have said before, a militant breast-feeding Mama. As part of a class at Fuller, my husband and I were “observing” a healing service and the woman speaker was receiving words of knowledge from God about ailments that people needed healing of. I just wanted to know if it was really God. I wasn’t really a doubter. Call me inquisitive.

I said to the Great Healer, “If this is you, please just tell the lady.”

So Speaker Lady walked back over to her microphone and said in a cool, clear voice, “There is a young woman here with a sore, left breast.” I was healed as she prayed for me.

Ten or twelve years later, I had a vivid dream that I was feeding a baby from my left breast. The sum total of the dream was me, nursing a baby. All the following day I pondered why the dream wouldn’t leave my mind. So I turned to the Great Dreamer and I asked, “Were you trying to tell me something?”

Clearly, I heard him say, “You will minister from the places where I have touched you.”

I have done and seen and experienced a lot. I've logged many miles and held cool positions. But honestly, real ministry comes out of a simple place called "Where He Has Touched Me."

Some how, in my global wanderings, this seems to manifest itself best over a cup of freshly brewed tea.

I seldom have a podium or pulpit, a stage, an audience, a publisher or an impressive paycheck. (Come to think of it, I've NEVER had one of those!) I do have a kettle, a teapot, a collection of cups, a tray and a porch to sit on. This foolish little collection, like Lucy's diamond vile of elixir, are the gift-tools I've been given from which to pour forth His grace.

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This post is part of a global synchroblog on the topic of “God’s Choice in Using the Foolish and Our Understanding of Calling.” Read what other bloggers are saying about this topic...
Quiet Now, God's Calling by Jenelle D'Alessandro
The Power of Paradox by Julie Clawson
That Darn Ego by Jonathan Brink
Won't Get Fooled Again by Alan Knox
Foolish Heart by Erin Word
A Fool's Choice by Cindy Harvey
Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right... by Mike Bursell
Ship of Fools by David Fisher
Hut Burning for God by Father Gregory
God Used This Fool by Cobus van Wyngaard
Blessed are the foolish -- foolish are the blessed by Steve Hayes
Fool if you think its over Paul Walker
Strength on the Margins by Adam Gonnerman
What a Fool I've Been by Reba
Sonja at Ravine of Light
Phil at Square No More
And Sally at Sally's Journey

Round Here: A Photo Journal from Recent Days

Just to give you a few visuals from our Christmas break here in Tanzania... Remember that you can click on any image you would like to see larger.


Is there anything like the African sky? Correct Answer: No. (Photo by Jesse)


Some Borden and some Russell Boys. This band of brothers (Jesse, Skyler, Trevor, Colin and Chase) have all known each other since they were babies. This was during their motorcycle safari day out, aka Colin's birthday. (Photo by... I'm not sure... My Dad or Byron.)


An early breakfast of chai and chapati on the road to Tarangire. (Photo by Lisa)


Colin rules... And the rest of us get ready for our family photo. (Photo by Jesse)


While attempting to teach me how to use the white balance on my camera, Trevor takes this sweet photo of my Mum :-)


Still in "Instuctor Mode," he snaps this nice one of Jesse-the-Camera-Boy.


Trevor and Byron prepare to leave for an overnight motorcyle safari together. Happy boys, eh? (Photo by Lisa)


Now it's Jesse's turn for an overnight motorcyle safari with his Dad... (Photo by Lisa)


Byron and the boys made their saddle bags. Pretty neato. (Photo by Lisa)


"Girl's Got Curls" or "The Wonder of Sponge Rollers." (Photo by Jesse)


Our new puppy, Tesha. Her full name is Nalotuesha, which is a Maasai name meaning "She came with the rains." It was pouring the day we picked her up. And yes, she's a love. (Photo by Jesse)

We had some great days together. Yep, we did :-)

I Sing My Lament

Tired this Friday morning and longing for God, I find myself again in this place of quandry. The pathways that were so familiar for so many years, the ones that almost guarnateed the destination, feel a little like abandoned trails that no longer reach the place of my longing. Exploration of Him and discovery of expressions of His community that have filled me like a rich meal, leave me nostalgic for those hard and beautiful days in Europe when we pressed into the journey together.

I pull up some favorite music on the ipod to pump through the speakers into our living room. It's U2 and Bono is belting out:

"You broke the bonds
And you loosed the chains
Carried the cross
And all my shame
All my shame
You know I believe it
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for..."

I believe it. That doesn't quaver. And the admission that what we find around us is still not quite IT comforts me along the way. We are all broken and we form no perfect communities. That's a given. But it's ok to long. In fact, it's healthy to long.

Next up is U2 again singing "40". The haunting refrain becomes my prayer for Kenya.

"How long to sing this song?
How long to sing this song?
How long? How long?
How long? How long... to sing this song?"

I stand in my living room with the prayer lifted up for the brokeness and pain. The verses, taken from Psalm 40, become my hope for that land.

"I waited patiently for the Lord
He inclined and heard my cry.
He brought me right out of the pit,
Out of my miry clay.
I will sing a new song...

He set my feet upon a rock,
And made my footsteps sure
Many will see,
Many will see and fear
I will sing, sing a new song..."

There are times when I can express my prayers without assistance. Today I am grateful for the lamentations of an Irishman as they help release the things in my heart.

Grub, The Bush Baby... and other old friends

It was pretty hot around here today and Jesse, Colin and Heather were languishing around, looking sort of half melted and in need of distraction. I decided to tackle some boxes filled with books that needed sorting. These are books that we packed during the summer of 2006. I opened the dusty cardboard tops and oooooooh....

It was like I was seeing dear old friends. I pulled out Cry, the Beloved Country-- a book I wept my way through. I found the first edition of Out of Africa that my sister gave me for my birthday just a few years ago and I remembered sneaking onto the premises of the Karen Blixen museum years and years ago when it wasn't yet open. We sat on the stone benches round the back and quoted beautiful passages from the book. This was prior to the film and, believe me, the book is MUCH better.

I smiled at books that touched me in different ways, and wondered a little quizzically at why others had been hauled all over the globe with me when I'm sure I've never even opened them. (Those were very few, mind you.)

My heat-weary off-spring slowly came to life. Each one found a treasure and soon they were pouring over pages as they sat together on the sofa in the corner of the living room. I was especially happy to see Heather giggling at Grub, the Bush Baby, a picture book made by Jane Goodall and her then-husband about their little boy as they camped and studied in game parks here in Tanzania. My boys spent hours with that book. Nice to see Heather getting to know that old friend.

I confess to a deep love of bound-together pages. I know I have far too many of them, especially for someone who makes major global transitions. I will have to cull this library.

But not today.

Trevor, Off and Away (or My Prayers go Walkabout)

Trevor left for California today. He retraces his flightpath from Kilimanjaro to Nairobi to Rome to Washington D.C. to L.A. Bless him. It was amazing to have him here. You already know how much we don't like seeing him go. That's well documented in the posts tagged "Off to College." He goes to a good place full of good people for good reason... So, despite the sadness, we rejoice!

News from Kenya continues to shock and sadden us with at least 350 people killed during the violence. My prayers are all over the place--praying for peace in my old home, safety for dear friends, healing for other friends fighting heavy battles against cancer. And all these "serious" prayers are interspersed with little personal requests like, "Could you keep Trevor's guitar safe on the trip home?"

The Lord must wonder at me. I don't pray in priority order or by degree of seriousness. I pray as an on-going stream of consciousness conversation with someone I believe hears me.

Kenya in Crisis

I haven't commented on the crisis situation that has been unfolding in our neighboring country, Kenya. Since the widely disputed elections results were announced on Sunday, there has been terrible violence throughout the land. You can read about the sad events on the BBC news site.

I guess I just want to say that after having lived there for so many years, we, obviously, have many dear friends in Kenya and we are deeply saddened by all that is going on. Please join us in prayers for peace in this country, once a model of stability in Africa.

2008 Arrives!

Happy New Year from Tanzania, East Africa!
(From left to right: Trevor, Heather, Colin, Byron, Lisa, Jesse.)