Per my earlier promise, a brief statement on why I hike for Chuka:
In February 2009, I had the glorious opportunity to spend eight days with Humphrey and the gang at the Chuka Children's Home in Kenya. I got to tour Chuka, meet wonderful people, see the excellent work being done with the children and be treated as near royalty by all of the loving and generous people that I met.
Except it wasn't glorious and in spite of the out-pouring of love and respect that I received, I was miserable, sad and lonely.
You see, in my journey to Kenya, via London, I managed to pick up a little friend who I later "affectionately" named Paco but who happened to be a particularly nasty parasite. Prior to actually making it to the airport in Nairobi, I: threw up on myself on the way to Heathrow airport after a 20 hour layover; was forced to throw out my two jackets and only extra pair of carryon clothes; spent two hours shivering in a cold, February airport, only to finally board my flight and be promptly removed again; spent an extra night, sick in a hotel room in the UK; finally got to Nairobi a day late to find that my luggage had wanted to spend even more time in Heathrow and wouldn't be arriving for a few days still.
And I just couldn't get better. What should have been a magnificent adventure half-way across the world was instead a struggle for, what felt like, my life. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, I lost 10-ish lbs. in 12 days and I was convinced, CONVINCED, that I was dying. My poor mother and boyfriend (Nathan) received weepy call after weepy call in which I lamented my state and attested to the fact over and over that I was dying and would never make it home.
Sidenote: My particular parasite causes feelings of imminent doom and depression. Add that to normal homesickness and you have a recipe for a very sad girl. Continue.
That isn't to say that it was all terrible. Kenya is a beautiful country and her people are tremendous. I was treated with respect and a brotherly love that you don't often see in the all too comfortable America. In spite of the horrendous poverty and suffering, she is a country of hope and faith and love. And my heart aches for her.
While there I experienced wonder at God's creation; it's not everyday you see elephants cross a highway or view Mount Kenya towering over the plains in the distance. I witnessed firsthand the change that a heart on fire for the Lord can make in the lives of 15 children. I saw true love and respect displayed on the faces of those who pulled out all the stops to ensure that I saw and experienced the best that Kenya had to offer. And I learned humility in a way that I had never intended to when I, the girl who had come to help, became the one borrowing clothes from my hosts.
Believe you me, when you walk into a Children's Home and ask if there are clothes you can borrow, you get a big, fat heaping pile of humility.
It took months after I had arrived back in the United States for me to feel fully recovered, both emotionally and physically. Paco and the shock of
truly experiencing poverty for the first-time outside of a text book, had worn me down to the point of breaking. I didn't unpack for a month after returning, I couldn't smell a smell that reminded me of Kenya without a shock of fear; wherever I went, Kenya was right behind me, refusing to be forgotten, refusing to give up without a fight.
To this day, I still feel as a if a part of my heart wanders around that small town three hours north of Nairobi, still as in shock at what she sees as the very first day. I haven't forgotten Chuka and I never could.
I have kept in touch with Humphrey and Daniel, receiving semi-regular updates on the status of things and always keeping them in my prayers. Now, it's time to take the next step.
When Nathan suggested the idea in late-May that we hike the Grand Canyon rim-to-rim, I agreed semi-heartedly. It sounded like a great idea and watching those folks finish up the Bright Angel Trail on the South Rim, I knew that I, too, wanted to experience that sense of accomplishment that I could see written across their faces. I wanted to know that I, too, could start on the North Rim and in a grueling, 5 - 10 hour process, climb to the bottom, wade across the Colorado (or meander across the bridge) and then conquer a ridiculously long climb up the other side. I wanted it. But I'm lazy.
Every other day I'm struck by a grand idea of sorts. I get a wave of energy, a sense of purpose, a way to change the world for Christ and then my head gets involved, I get weighed down by logistics and I end up moving on to the more mundane things of life. When I agreed to hike the Canyon, I was half expecting this to be the same. Except, it wasn't.
Three or four days after agreeing to train, I was struck by the idea that I could use this as an opportunity to help my friends in Kenya. It wouldn't be too hard. I still had connections at the Children's Home and Kenya Connection and I felt reasonably confident that if I explained my idea, they would jump on board to help. Granted, I had to overcome the fear of rejection. I recognize that my trip wasn't a waste - if anything, I made life-long friends and was able to leave my fancy water filter and malaria medicine with people who needed it most. I know that even though I had planned on three months in Africa, God had had different plans and there should be no regrets in following Christ's plan. But still, I felt as if I disappointed the very people I had so much respect for, and I was afraid my plans would be rejected as another pipe dream.
By the grace of God and his mercy, they weren't and after only 24 hours, Mars Hill had created a paypal site and directions on how to send money. It made me love them and my Kenyan family even more.
And that, my friends is where we find ourselves now. On Day 2 of my "Official" training for the Hike For Chuka.
I hope that you will keep up to date with our training (aka - suffering through summer running in Phoenix) and the work of the Chuka Children's Home. If so led, I would ask for your donations. You will find a link to do so at the top of this blog. My goal is to raise $10,000. Will you help? Already we have received $100 from the generosity of near strangers.
Promise me one thing: think and pray about it....
In the meantime, I'm going to go and continue to cool down after our 3 mile run this morning through Reach 11 in north east Phoenix. I think I've finally hit my first maintenance level where 2 miles is a breeze, 3 miles in definitely do-able and if pushed, I could eek out 4. Time to move on to the next level!
