Stigmatized        Cast out Shunned                         Misunderstood Feared Worthless      Shamed Such are the words used to describe what it felt like to be HIV+ in 2006.  Little was known about HIV/AIDS, myths abounded and Kenya was infested with fear. People were afraid of being tested—for the stigma and shame of being HIV+ was great. […]

Visits in the slums of Nairobi. Deaconess Caren in the beautiful African dress is the icon of mercy. 10 August 2014 Kawangware (one of the slums of Nairobi) The Congo (a neighborhood of Kawangware) The smell assaults you before anything else. Not the usual smells belonging to Nairobi and her slums—the acrid smoke from indoor […]

My friend, Kenyan Deaconess Callen contacted me recently via whatsapp. She sent me a a photo of a woman, Virginia, we had visited together in the slums of Kawangware in August 2014 and again in 2019. Callen wrote “She is very weak. Let’s join hands praying for her.” Today, I resurrect and revise a 2014 […]

2008, Lorna, Pamela and Sally.  Kibera On my second trip to Kenya in 2008, I landed at the Jomo Kenyatta International Airport in Nairobi. After making my way through the usual immigration control and customs, I headed out to the semi-circle of people awaiting arrivals.  Scanning the crowd, I spotted the familiar face of Kenyan […]

When I think of the days of the week, or the months of the year, I picture each one in their own particular color. I don’t know how this happened, but it’s been a part of the way I see the world (or at least days and months) for as long as I can remember. […]

Hanging out with Kenya Deaconess Sisters in 2009 A big huge thank you to all of you who take the time to read my little blog posts. My last post in April, 2020, I focused on the needs of the suffering in Kenya due to the pandemic, the flooding and the invasion of locust. And […]

Mother’s Day 2020 is different. (That’s an understatement, with a twist of sarcasm.) Me, mama, Greg and Mark. Note the bun warmer on the stove. I still have it! I’d been dreading this Mother’s Day–my first without my mama. I remember many years ago, a friend of mine whose mother had just died, told me […]

I open the light blue binder, faded by time and use, to a page filled with words written in teeny tiny cursive.  My mama’s writing. The first page, undated, contains verses from the Psalms. Words of Poetry. Pleas for mercy. Pleas for comfort. Pleas for strength. And, yes, gratitude and praise. Essential words. Tested by […]

It can close schools. It can close libraries. It can close just about everything–my yoga studio and even my church. But it cannot close my eyes to the gentle sway of the birch’s pale green heart-shaped leaves. Not the coal black olives still clinging to silvery branches. No it cannot close my eyes to the […]

I am finding my way home through the back door of poverty, disease, despair and sorrow.  These are places where the darkness is pierced by a small window of the noonday sun, or dimly lit at night with a flame from a tiny tin of paraffin. I’ve been invited in through narrow doorways made of […]