Friday, June 19, 2015

Prancer and Scurry

I can't believe I'm back in Kenya. This time for 7 weeks! What was a stirring in my heart over a year ago is now coming to fruition. I am so grateful for God's guidance and direction in this. I hope and pray every bit of this journey is honoring and glorifying to Him. He's the reason I'm here, after all. 

I left the U.S. on Monday and here it is Friday already. Almost a week of this 7 week trip gone. But rest assured, God is already speaking and teaching. And, as usual with me it seems, He's using some rather unlikely objects to get the message across. 

Oh the lessons to be learned from bats. Wednesday afternoon we arrived at an insect research center in Mbita. After checking in, watching a beautiful sunset over Lake Voctoria, sorting and organizing heaps (literally) of medicine, a warm dinner and a hot shower, I settled into bed for a much needed night's sleep. The balcony door was open, so we could hear the softly crashing waves from the lake. We were surrounded by mosquito netting and ever-so-grateful for a place to lay our heads and stretch our legs. Before the lights were even out, my roommate and I heard a rustling noise above us. Seeing nothing in the room, we decided it was of no concern and shut our eyes for some sleep.

After three hours of solid sleep, I awoke to this same rustling sound. And when I say rustling sound, I mean it was like Santa's team of varmint reindeer had landed on the roof. There was flapping and scurrying and squeaking galore. For some reason, I wasn't the least bit sleepy anymore! I lay awake here for hours, trying to drown out the sound of our "friendly" creatures. 

After hour number two, I decided to name the stinkin' bats in the hopes of making them seem a little less creepy. Prancer and Scurry seemed appropriate. I really have no idea how any there are, but there was definitely more than one and...well, three seemed like a crowd. Two it is. 

If you're wondering, there really is a lesson in all this. As I lay there wide awake in the middle of the night, my heart would race every so often as the scurry/flutter/squeak would intensify. It was easy to hear. In fact, it was ridiculously loud. But in the background of the rustle there was a quieter softer gentler sound. The calm crash of the waves on the shore. It was there all along. But I found myself having a hard time hearing it. I felt like God was saying, this is like Truth and lies. Sometimes the lies are so in my face, so easy to hear, that I can lose focus of the truth. I had to work harder to hear the waves. I would find my heart racing as I couldn't help but hear Prancer and Scurry having a grand old time above me, and then, taking a deep breath, I'd tune into the peaceful waves. What a timely reminder as this Kenya journey begins. I have a feeling there will be many occasions where I might need to search for the sound of truth to drown out the lies. 

Where are you letting lies run around in your head and steal your peace? Where do you need to settle in and listen to the steady, gentle waves of truth?