I heard it said once, a long time ago, that it’s the people you meet and the experiences you have that shape you into who you are. That there are stories you will come across that frame how you see the world, and how you see yourself. These experiences can be an amazing gift – both the good and the hard – but then it’s up to you to decide what you do with them. Do you keep those stories all to yourself, bottled up inside? Or do you share them? & the challenge in that is – the more clearly you’re able to communicate, the more impact these stories can have. It’s no longer just about you for your benefit, but they have the power to travel further and affect more people than you even realize.
That’s why I fell in love with stories over a decade ago. Through my own life experiences, and the lives of so many incredible people I’ve met along the way, I feel both a blessing and a responsibility. The blessing that a story can change me and shift the lens I look through to see the world – and also the responsibility that maybe this story isn’t just for me. Maybe there are other people who could be impacted, too, if I only took the space and courage needed to share.
I spent a lot of time in both Uganda and Kenya last month learning about stories. About the value of honestly sharing our lives, even the hard and messy and broken parts, and how in the vulnerability there is a power that brings people together. I also learned the importance of seeing God in your story – in the highest highs and deepest lows – and knowing He is in the business of redeeming our shattered pieces and pursues us with an unrelenting grace. Without Him the darkness would be far too heavy to walk through.
The theme for camp this summer was, “People Like Us” – or as we say in Swahili, “Watu Kama Sisi.” This was our third year working with the Hope Venture and their student sponsorship program in Narok, Kenya, and it was amazing how this little phrase tied the week together in such a simple yet profound way. Every day we’d share stories about our lives, and every day it was more and more apparent that no matter Kenyan or American, student or staff, they were all people just like us. (I have to admit when I first saw this phrase, I thought it read People Like Us, to which I thought was hilarious, & maybe tad overconfident. I later learned the emphasis in fact read People Like Us, which made much more sense – even though both proved to be true 🙂 )
One of my favorite examples of this came from my first day in small groups with my team of students (the Green Team|Dream Team). We were sharing stories about high school, and this sweet, fun-loving teenager named Maggie opened up first. She shared about her close friend, Emma, and how she would do anything to make her happy. She would sacrifice everything she had for this friend, but Emma never did the same. In truth, Emma was pretty cruel, talking behind her back and only keeping Maggie around when it served to her advantage, and through tears Maggie told me, “I feel like I’ve been living a pretend life. I know she’s not my real friend, but I don’t know if I’ll ever find someone better.” As she shared more, I leaned in, put my hands on her knees, and with tears in my own eyes told her, “I know exactly how you feel. I had an Emma, too.”
Maggie’s story is far different than mine. Her past holds loss and tragedy like I’ve never experienced as a young girl growing up on the streets of Kenya. But in that moment, in that circle, talking about friends and betrayal and loneliness, our hearts spoke the same language, and it was clear God had knit together this special group of girls. We all knew they were people like us.
This simple catch-phrase carried further than just connecting with one another. It was also a powerful lens to look through and see the characters in the Bible in a new light as people like us. We studied the life of Andrew and what it means when your role feels unimportant or goes unseen. We learned about Joseph’s life of extreme highs and lows, and challenged the students to create a life map and share with each other how God had been with them in the best and worst moments of their life. We studied the life of Elijah and the power of answered prayers, and shared testimonies of trials and answered prayers in our own life. & on the last night together we took a lesson straight from the very best, and humbly tried to follow in his example.
The Bible tells of the event on that last night when Jesus was with his disciples, he did something no one ever saw coming. He got up from the meal, dressed himself as a servant, and washed his disciple’s feet. As their teacher and Lord, he took on the lowest possible position to serve and honor them. & after he finished, he told them that this is the example they were to follow. That no servant is greater than his master, nor messenger greater than the one who sent him. That leading His way is different than the world, flipping all cultural expectations on its head (more of this story in John 13).
So the American team members and Kenyan staff knelt before all 133 high school students, and together we washed their feet. We sought earnestly to communicate honor and value and worth in a manner words couldn’t express, and it was powerful. There was a moment that night when I noticed Scott slip away from the classroom, to return shortly with an unexpected guest. It was Max.
Max was a man who served whole-heartedly, yet completely behind the scenes. From cooking every meal, to caring for the grounds, and even cleaning up my mess when I dumped an entire pot of steaming chai on the kitchen floor – this man worked tirelessly without ever seeking praise or recognition. This was his first time coming into the classroom with the rest of camp, and as Scott brought him inside and sat him down, together with a Kenyan staff member, they showed Max a deep and beautiful tribute of value and respect as they kneeled down to wash his feet. It was a tiny glimpse of heaven, and the astounding God we serve. The One who sees you, who knows you, and calls you beloved – even when you feel hidden and unnoticed.
Our time in Kenya was incredible. We helped students plant trees and build chicken coops and lead VBS’ in their community. There were talent shows and soccer tournaments and 150 high school + college students learned how to roast s’mores. We danced and slack-lined and played a thousand games of UNO, and so many other amazingly fun things you can imagine doing with a camp full of crazy high schoolers.
But our time in Kenya was also immensely hard. We learned stories of tragedy and loss and sexual abuse. We cried with students who wrestled with depression, suicide and addiction. We felt the weight of trying to care for an entire family on less than two dollars a day, while living in a home without water, electricity or access to education. & after two short weeks, we were faced with the heaviness of saying goodbye.
I’ve learned that each year we return back to Kenya, it doesn’t get easier. In fact, it actually feels much harder. Harder to leave those we love and return home to a seemingly separate world on the other side of the ocean. Harder to trust they will be well and taken care of until we see them again. & harder to come back to life as normal like nothing here has changed.
So, as we’re home now, and wrestle through the incredibly good mixed with the immensely hard, I find myself asking why? Why have we traveled to the places we have and seen the things we’ve seen? Why have we met the people we have and shared in their experiences? I know without question, they’ve shaped us. They have reshaped our hearts and redefined our passions, and changed the direction of what we want to pursue as a family. They have expanded our worldview and how we learn from those who appear so different from us. & they have given us new family who we love, pray for, and cannot wait to be together with again.
But, I also don’t believe these experiences were just for us.
We’re learning how to tell these stories. Stories of pain and heartbreak, but also stories of inspiration and hope and the redemption God is working in and through their lives.
Stories of people like us.
We’re letting these stories change us, and connecting the dots to others who share a common theme, in one way or another. Not every story gets written down – in fact, most are shared over a cup of coffee or dinner table or a night out on the lake. But we’re doing our best to play a small part in a much bigger story that’s unfolding, knowing that all hard and broken and hurting is not where the story ends.
& with all the unanswered questions I’ve asked myself, I’ll leave you with just this one //
what story do you have that needs to be told?
–
–
–
–
–
–
read stories from our first trip to Kenya with the Hope Venture here
from our second trip to Kenya here
& links to our daily camp highlight videos – – Day 1, Day 2, Day 3 & Day 4
the henn adventures 