Posted by: Botolff | June 25, 2009

Touching down on the tarmack

After a long 25 hours of travel, I’m back on U.S. soil.  I cooked a steak tonight to celebrate, and I picked it up with my hands and ate everything off the bone I could knaw.  A few of the young men in Kenya that I spent the most time with told me I need to eat more with the natural utensils God gave me.  I think they may be on to something.  I wonder how that’s going to work with cereal.

Anyway, my roommate came and picked me up at the airport.  It wasn’t long before the questions started to immerge, and I found myself reminiscing on my trip.  It was a glorious journey.  I think I got saved.  Not in the “say this prayer and invite Jesus into your heart” kind of saved.  But the “I think God has been working in my life in ways I couldn’t see until this trip” kind of saved.  He has saved me.  He is saving me.  And although my own arrogance chases me like cheetah, I have come to realize that in the past few years, with God’s strength, that I can outsmart it sometimes.  I am less of an arrogant man today than eight years ago, and I am humbled by that realization.  But the movement has come packing heat…

A short story…

One day while I was in Kenya I took a one way flight from Nairobi to Kisumu in order to visit an agricultural orphanage.  If you’d like to read more, you are welcome to check out my other blog at www.neema1.blogspot.com.  But in this post I wanted to tell you a little bit about the landing.  Thank God we had one.  Heavy rains caused the pilot to pull up and circle the runway three times before he finally set the plane down.  And I can tell you that if I had a short stick, I am convinced I could have stuck it out the window and drug it along the surface of the flood plains we were deathly close to on the turns.  It was one of those flights where people white-knuckled the arm rests.  And then finally when the pilot determined it was his time to shine and put the wheels on the ground, we bounced once and then hit hard.  I was waiting for the landing gear to snap, and for us to come to a skidding hault nose first.  Thank God my fears were for naught.  But they actually ended up being of great value to me.  Most importantly…they reminded me that I will survive. 

Often we don’t want to face our fears, and thus they get the better of us, or we do damage to the people around us in an attempt to protect ourselves.  Just like the pilot of that plane, we have to keep trying to face our fears until we stick the landing.  Otherwise, sooner or later we’ll run out of fuel and come crashing to the ground on our own.

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Responses

  1. Welcome home, Jamie! Sounds like a great trip. Keelie and I have enjoyed reading about your experiences in Kenya on your Neema1 blog.


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