Showing posts with label Run. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Run. Show all posts

Friday, September 28, 2012

GIVE ME THESE STAIRS



Today is the 10th Birthday for my youngest son, Timothy David Sanyu Jenkins.    Please share with me in blessing my son.   

 Bible verses that seem appropriate to summarize the Spirit of God living in Timothy are

 "You remember what the Lord said at Kadesh Barnea when he was speaking to the prophet Moses about you and me. Moses, the Lord's servant, sent me to look at the land where we were going. I was forty years old then. When I came back, I told Moses what I thought about the land. The other men who went with me frightened the people, but I fully believed the Lord would allow us to take the land. So that day Moses promised me, 'The land where you went will become your land, and your children will own it forever. I will give you that land because you fully believed in the Lord, my God.'

  "Now then, the Lord has kept his promise. He has kept me alive for forty-five years from the time he said this to Moses during the time we all wandered in the desert. Now here I am, eighty-five years old. I am still as strong today as I was the day Moses sent me out, and I am just as ready to fight now as I was then. So give me the mountain country the Lord promised me that day long ago. Back then you heard that the Anakite people lived there and the cities were large and well protected. But now with the Lord helping me, I will force them out, just as the Lord said. 

 Joshua blessed Caleb son of Jephunneh and gave him the city of Hebron as his own (Joshua 14:6-13.)"

            For Timothy a phrase he has used to summarize his approach to life is “Give me these stairs.” 

            Timothy is a surprise adoption.   We did not seek him.  There was no human effort.  The Divine Will of God brought Timothy to our home.    

            Ten years ago, Jana was helping friends of ours; Brent and Inell Slater consider adoption.   Jana went with Inell to Sanyu Babies Home in Kampala, Uganda.    While there, the matron, Mama Joyce told Jana, “I have someone I want to introduce to you.”  Then she placed Timothy in Jana’s arms.   Their eyes met, and Jana said, “I’m a goner.”   

            Jana came home to tell me about Timothy.   Everyone else in our relationship network went to see Timothy.   I did not.   I tried to remain objective.   I counted the cost.   What would our lives be like if we did not adopt Timothy?   What would we lose?   The only thing I could conceptualize was money.  I came to only one conclusion.    I had never made a life changing decision simply by counting money.  I would not start with Timothy.   If Mama Joyce was led by God to place Timothy in Jana’s arms who was I to say, “No.”   Timothy would be part of our family.   This was the Will of God.

            As we left Sanyu Babies Home with Timothy in our arms surrounded by ecstatic Sophia, Caleb, Ethan, and Ruth I remarked, “We came as a family.   We’ve left as a tribe.  God will bless us.”

            We laughed frequently.   Timothy’s first sounds were not the “coos” of a baby.   Instead, Timothy growled and roared.   When I would enter a room he would look at me, and we would affectionately growl and giggle at one another.   Timothy’s strong will and joy were clear even before he could speak.

            At 10 months old, we began to notice that Timothy army crawled only using his left arm and leg.   He drug his right arm and leg.  We saw a pediatrician.   Timothy was diagnosed with Cerebral Palsy (CP).

            In a certain way the diagnosis was sobering.    Yet, in a strange way it was a blessing.   We had known other families whose son had CP.   With each one we had observed God giving a special guiding touch.   We anticipated He would also do the same for us.    Who were we to argue with God’s intent to bless us through a struggle of this created earth?

            We prayed for strength that Sunday at the Kampala Church of Christ.    That evening we went to the Nile Hotel to see Ndere Troupe.   We danced.   We laughed.   The dance was prophetic.   The last dance of the evening was traditional Rwandese.   The Ugandan crowd found greater joy in Rwandan dance than any of the traditional Ugandan dances.    Two years later we would arrive in Kigali pondering Rwandan dance.

The Ugandan Drum That Taught The Jenkins' Kids to Walk
            Timothy army crawled.   Then he did what all our children had done.   He pulled himself to standing on the drum.   Then he began to beat the drum.   His body moved in rhythm.   Then he took his first step.   His first step became a run.   Timothy David Sanyu Jenkins has never stopped running since.

            A few notice that Timothy has a bit of an odd step.  His right arm barely functions.   His right leg is shorter than the left.   Yet, when Timothy runs all the disadvantages of this created earth disappear.    He is usually the fastest of his peers at school.   He usually leads in goals scored in soccer matches.  In running God’s pleasure in Timothy is found.

Timothy at Victory Soccer Camp This Summer
            A man of old, named Caleb had a similar spirit.   As a young man his faith and courage far exceeded his peers.   As an old man he went to war with fellow soldiers 40 years his junior.   His strength of both spirit and body was unstoppable.    The Lord was the source of this enduring strength.   His requests to the Lord were not for a life of ease, but for all the Lord intended.   His request was, “Give me this mountain country.”

            Two months ago, I went to register Timothy at Lowell Elementary School in Wheaton.   We toured the school.   Lowell had four classrooms dedicated to fourth grade.   Three classrooms were on the ground floor.   One classroom was on the second floor.   Timothy’s mind like Caleb's of old went to work.   If he carried his books up the stairs each day his strength and speed would increase faster than his peers on ground level.   Timothy asked to be in the class on the second floor.   Few nine year old boys’ minds function this way.   Yet, Timothy has always run up stairs and hills.   He has always created his own special training regimes.  
 
            I considered calling Lowell’s principal with this strange request.   “Give my son these stairs.   Push him hard.    Make him carry many books home.  Ask him to carry other student’s book bags up and down those stairs.”    Yet, my wise wife cautioned me that I’d look like a psycho soccer dad with such a request.   Timothy and I chose to ask God for the stairs.

            God gave Timothy the stairs.   He is in Ms. Kraft’s fourth grade class on Lowell Elementary School’s second floor.   Thank you God.

Timothy in an Uganda Cranes and Dave in a Rwanda Amavubi Soccer Uniform
            Now, may Timothy be blessed with a life of risk.   May his life be one that requires him to seek out hills and stairs.   May his courage, faith, and strength grow.    May Timothy see God’s favor when his peers are full of fear.   May Timothy as a mzee (wise old man) have the strength of youth.    May Timothy be an enduring model of faith that generations of others will emulate.

            Thank you God for giving Timothy those stairs.

Friday, September 14, 2012

SEPTEMBER 2012 PRAYER BULLETIN

Dear Family and Friends,

A few weeks ago we sat in church and used the Lord’s Prayer in worship.   The old resonated to the deepest part of my being.    I’ve found myself meditating on it each morning as I run,

Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name.
 Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.
And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil:
For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever. Amen
 (Matthew 5:10-13, King James Version)

As our family starts missionary life anew in Chicago please join us in praying:


1.    Adoration to our Holy Father (What else can we do?   We are adopted children by a God completely beyond all we can conceptualize)

2.   Seeking His heavenly kingdom to grow upon this earth.   (Thankful to have been a vessel in Africa and now seeking His will in the USA)

3.   Trusting for our daily sustenance.   (Not sure how we’ll pay the bills this season, but aware of His daily abundance.)

4.   Forgiving and being forgiven.   (Old church planters know too well their personal failings.    Yet we also have survived tremendous battles.   This is a season to heal through forgiveness.)

5.   Separation from sin.   (Confusion, discouragement, and idolatry be gone.)

6.   Awestruck forever at God.

Thank you for your prayers, support, and encouragement that sustain our family and ministry.

Mungu akubariki (God bless you),

Dave

P.S.  We will be at Abilene Christian University’s Summit this coming week and hope to connect with some of you there.

Monday, April 18, 2011

PASTORAL REFLECTIONS ON PROSTITUTES AND RELIGIOUS CONMEN


Prostitutes and religious conmen hear me well. I am not a loaf of bread. I am husband. I am a father. I am a pastor. I am a runner. I notice that some choose to follow me. Some are seekers. Some are children. Some are prostitutes. Some are religious conmen. I am amazed at the similarities between prostitutes and religious conmen. I see they suffer from the same root causes. For the seekers and children, I know where you can find life giving bread. I hope we can find a shared answer.

I live in Kimihurura between the Papyrus Restaurant and Cadillac Night Club. Between 9:00 p.m. and 6:00 a.m. on Friday and Saturday nights I see women who appear to be prostitutes outside my home. They are scantily dressed. My Saturday morning usually starts with a run. My Sunday morning usually starts with leaving home early to prepare for worship at CCR. Many times, I have short conversation with the women who appear to be prostitutes. They call me sweet names, try to initiate conversations, and some even try to touch me. I am 44 years old. I have never been described as handsome. I have a bad back, five kids, and a missionary salary. A young scantily dressed attractive woman who has a romantic interest in me is either mentally deranged or a prostitute. I am a husband. I am a father. I am a pastor. I am a runner. I am not a loaf of bread. When a prostitute calls me, I keep running. They leave me after less than 100 meters.

I am a Muzungu. I at times appear to have money. I sometimes attract religious conmen. They find me at all hours of the day and a multiple of times per week. Their dress is either immaculate or shabby. They try to make me either feel sorry for them, or be amazed by their spiritual power. I have learned not to trust them. However, some of my Bazungu friends will listen to their stories. They speak sweet Kilokole. However, like the prostitute they only see me as a loaf of bread. When the religious conman calls me I keep running. I am not a loaf of bread. They leave me after a few pastoral running strides.

On my morning runs sometimes the children of Kigali choose to join me. We run together. They make me laugh. They seem to know who I am. Sometimes, they chant, “Jesus,” or, “Imana ishimwe.” They follow me kilometer after kilometer. They make me a better runner. They enjoy my friendship and seem to know I seek the bread of life.

At Sunday mornings at CCR and throughout the week, seekers choose to join me. We pray together. We share. We laugh. We cry. Sometimes, we dance. They find my failings and still follow me kilometer after kilometer. They make me a better pastor. They enjoy my friendship and seem to know I seek the bread of life.

As the children join me on a run I notice some are girls. I wonder if the prostitutes who follow me for a few meters once were little girls who shared a run with me for kilometers. Something went terribly wrong.

As the seekers join me for prayer I notice some are hurting. I wonder if the religious conmen who follow me for a few meters were once honest seekers who shared life with me. Something went terribly wrong.

I don’t like prostitutes or religious conmen. I don’t like being treated like a loaf of bread. However, I find that both suffer from the same disease. Prostitutes and religious conmen thrive in a world of non-literacy and poverty. In a way they are victims.

I do enjoy children and seekers. I think they follow me for the much the same reasons. We both seek friendship and the bread of life. Life may have struggle, but we refuse to be victims. We thrive in a world full of love, hope, and joy.

Prostitutes economically thrive by finding those who are sexually unfulfilled. Religious conmen economically thrive by finding those who are emotionally unfilled. I find the prostitute’s and religious conmen’s clients to be more repulsive than the prostitutes or religious conmen. Some like to rant at prostitutes and religious conmen. Some intend to police them out of existence. However, let me propose a few solutions to make Kigali a more pleasant city. Let us build schools and businesses. Let us build a literate and wealthy population. There will always be a portion of our city that is poor. However, let us make the options of prostitution and religious conmen much less financially advantageous.


Next, let us find a way to police the financiers of prostitutes and religious conmen. If we dry up the money the prostitutes and religious conmen will go somewhere else. Maybe, we would be well served to run internet photos of both prostitute’s clients and religious conmen’s financier with a short story?

Prostitutes and religious conmen, I feel mercy for your situation. However, I am not a loaf of bread.

Children and seekers; let us continue to run. Together we can find the bread of life.