"Typical"...with Accents.

Day 22 –

   A “typical” day at school. The Lord gave me words and a story to tell the youngest students at the school for the morning devotion. The school day was full, and the evenings were restful and full of joy.

   I will never forget a conversation I had with Madame Purity. She is always quick to encourage (or rebuke, depending). She told me that if you speak the word of God, you are allowing Him to use you. We are a vessel. You should not worry about whether you did well or not, He will speak through you. It is conversations like that which slam me back to reality and a better perspective on my weaknesses.

   I will never forget the teachers in general.  There is Mark getting himself into arguments with his fellow teachers and stirring up trouble. His arguing will never cease. There is Fred, who made me giggle with his sudden sighs that turned into outbursts as he entered the room…”Oh! I have to grade papers!” Agnes and Winnie were quiet unless you talked to them one on one. Phoebe and Purity were the playful and passionate ones. Babu (Gregory) who’s smile was contagious and who spoke with impeccable English. Martha, who had a stern face, but would show her fun, joyful side sometimes. I was attached.

   When I helped in Winnie’s classroom, I was able to hear her story that also sticks in my mind. Her father is an alcoholic and has been ever since he was young; he is not a born-again Christian. Yet, this teacher has hope – she didn’t look discouraged at all while sharing. She has hope and she prays for him constantly. “God has protected him and has kept him alive for a reason. Soon he will be saved.” If that doesn’t blow you away…
    While I visited the school this last summer, the first question I asked Winnie was regarding her father. She didn’t hesitate to smile and say, “He is still not saved.” She then proceeded to tell me that it will happen in December when he has to walk into a church for her wedding. Even though we laughed about it, I will be praying that he does.

    I walked into the house at the end of the day with red earth caked, yet again, to my legs and feet.     Playing tag with the older girls was such an enjoyable time.
We went through our usual routine at home. Laughter.
   I remember Bea and me giggling over a Kenyan rapper showed on the TV (they are the same there as they are in the States), and that set the whole mood for the night. Pastor was an absolute joy and got very silly during dinner. He constantly urged us to take more food, “We won’t have to eat in heaven so we should eat enough now!”    Then, we started discussing the difference in English and Kenyan accents. I wrote the word “bowl” on a piece of paper and had Pastor read it. In his accent, it sounded like “bowel”. Bea and I laughed ridiculously hard for at least 5 minutes until we could explain to a slightly confused pastor how the differences changed the meaning to us. We proceeded and even tried to speak in each other’s accents.  That is finding joy in the differences.