I know, I know. Two weeks have passed since my last entry. Pole sana (So very sorry). In all honesty, once I write a handful of kids’ stories and edit their pictures and create their videos, I don’t want to see the computer for awhile. Not an excuse, but just giving you some context. :) Seriously, thanks for hangin in there while I get back from my detour in the woods. I love y’all.

So an uncharacteristically quick recap:

• 11th: Went on a group hike to a cave and swinging vines. Closest I’ve ever come to feeling like Tarzan.
• 13th: Was invited to dinner by a couple who are dorm parents at RVA (Rift Valley Academy…the boarding school here for missionary kids) and then went to their Bible study with other RVA staff. Such an incredible blessing. Great people. A legit time in the Word. God got the glory. Mm.
• 16th-18th: Was invited to go on a safari with a group from North Carolina that’s been working at CURE this past week. Saw 3 cheetahs, my favorite African animal, the first day. Filmed a friend propose to his girlfriend in the middle of the massai mara. Got into some friendly encounters with curious monkeys. So awesome. Lost my voice, got nasty sick the last night, and was miserable for the 6 hour drive home. Not so awesome.
• 19th – I really love my dad and stepdad. And I recovered from my safari sickness, except for my voice, and prepared for a four-day marathon clinic journey.
• 20th-23rd – Four Day Marathon Clinic Journey. Sickness reoccurred the first night, so the first two days were pretty rough. God brought me back from the pit for the last two days, and I ended on a high note: the pilot let me take control of our little chartered plane for three minutes during our flight home. Don’t believe me? Look at this…

This is Ghostrider, requesting a flyby... negative Ghostrider, the pattern is full.

In the midst of numerous Top Gun quotes, flying through my mind were thoughts of all my CUREkids who dream of being pilots. And though I’ve never personally aspired to be one, once I was in the cockpit, there was no denying the appeal. It felt like coloring outside the lines, transcending the limits and boundaries that life on the ground imposes. It’s the process of leaving behind and rising above, escaping into God’s playground of clouds. I wanted them to be there, and suddenly, I felt out of place. They should be in the co-pilot seat, not me. I was living their dream, but I didn’t want to if they couldn’t. At that moment, I would have paid anything to give them that chance. They experience limitations in ways I never have, and being a pilot means more than just getting new legs or arms; it means getting wings.

Now in contrast, jumping back to my little sick spell, I felt limitation in a very small way. A little too much Kenyan food here, a little too much traveling there, and go figure, you get sick. Of course, that’s always clearer in retrospect. When you’re actually in the moment, having a heart to heart with your porcelain throne, wisdom isn’t what’s coming out and the bathroom floor starts lookin’ like your deathbed. That’s where I found myself, and let me tell you, it seemed like a very dark and depressing valley. But curled up in my bed, God reminded me of one of my favorite prayers, called The Valley of Vision:

LORD, high and holy, meek and lowly, thou hast brought me to the valley of vision, where I live in the depths but see thee in the heights; hemmed in by mountains of sin I behold thy glory.

Let me learn by paradox that the way down is the way up, that to be low is to be high, that the broken heart is the healed heart, that the contrite spirit is the rejoicing spirit, that the repenting soul is the victorious soul, that to have nothing is to possess all, that to bear the cross is to wear the crown, that to give is to receive, that the valley is the place of vision.

Lord, in the daytime stars can be seen from deepest wells, and the deeper the wells the brighter thy stars shine; Let me find thy light in my darkness, thy life in my death, thy joy in my sorrow, thy grace in my sin, thy riches in my poverty, thy glory in my valley.

And then to add to that, the Jesus Calling entry for the 22nd was:

Thank Me for the very things that are troubling you… thanking Me for trials will feel awkward and contrived at first, but if you persist, your thankful words, prayed in faith, will eventually make a difference in your heart. Thankfulness awakens you to My Presence, which overshadows all your problems.

I’m thankful I was sick, because it reminds me of my weakness, which I will boast in just as Paul did in 2 Corinthians 12:9-10. The valley, not the mountain, is when things become clear, because you’re looking up, not down. In Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis says this:

A proud man is always looking down on things and people; and, of course, as long as you are looking down, you cannot see something that is above you.

There was girl at our clinic in Kitale whose elbow was fused to the back of her head from burns. Her forearm stood straight up from behind her like an antennae. But she wasn’t looking down as we examined her. Rather, she was looking up, and smiling. She, like others, became a manifestation of God’s potter hands, pressing me down and building me back up into a new vessel. He’s allowed me to face discomfort emotionally and physically, but never in vain. Each encounter makes me more aware of my desperate need for him and more humbled by the truths about Himself that He graciously reveals. May you be willing to be reshaped today and to be brought into the valley of vision.

Originally posted at http://nashipai.wordpress.com/2011/06/24/valley-of-vision/.