My Journey, Our Journey

(The following was originally written for my Mission Educator's Bulletin the first week of Lent.  And although it took so long to post it here that my malaria pills are now a distant memory (thank goodness!), our Lenten journey - not to mention our life's journey - is still in process.  And so I hope it may still have meaning for us even two weeks, or two years, later: the journey is hard, yet beautiful!)  

 

I just swallowed down the last of my anti-malaria pills (not the most pleasant experience, I can assure you), signifying the full week it has been since I returned from my trip to Kenya.  Has it really been a week already?! I had similar sentiments when it came time to leave our partner diocese of Homa Bay, after a very short time there—has it really been a week already?!  But albeit short, it was good—well worth the journey (it always is)! 

Journey really is perhaps the best description of this particular visit. With nearly as many days spent in airports to get there and back as was spent in country, and with those brief days in Kenya consisting of a good (no great) deal of driving—to parishes on all ends of the Diocese—it was definitely a time of “journey.” 

And for those of you who have not traveled in Kenya before, let me tell you that “journey” takes on a whole new meaning!  The tarred roads consist of “speed bumps” every few kilometers, so even if you can get up to speed and think you’re smooth sailing—woa, think again, and start all over after coming to a nearly complete stop so as not to bottom out. The dirt roads consist of what feels like more ditch than road, and bottoming out on these is pretty much inevitable. And regardless of what kind of roads you are driving on, you will share them with a good deal of others—other cars, a plethora of piki-piki’s (motorbikes), grazing animals, and the beautiful people walking—often with large bundles on their heads and/or babies on their backs. Sharing the road with all of this (at once!) takes focus and courage.  It’s true, a journey in Kenya is not easy, it does not happen quickly, and it requires much. 

But lest you think that this is a “bad” thing, let me tell you what else a journey in Kenya means.  It means friends!  Some old, some new, but always a friendly “Karibu” (welcome) and a hug offered (usually more than one of each of these things, both at the beginning and end of your greeting). It means seeing beauty—in the grandeur of God’s creation seen in the landscapes you pass, in the grace of God’s mercy in the people you encounter, in the miracle of unity in diversity in the Catholicity we share with those a half a world away. It means growing closer to others who share the journey with you, and the many more who offer “journey mercies” or “safe safari” prayers as you go.  It means feeling closer to Christ than you knew was possible! 

We are well on our way on our Lenten journey. I invite you this Lent to think of your coming days like my journey around Kenya: Remember that it will not always be easy (there may be bumps in the road). Keep in mind that it takes time (don’t expect to arrive at your goals like you’re Mario Andretti).  Recall that bettering yourself, and the church that you share with a plethora and variety of others), takes focus and courage. But know that if you are willing to make the journey, you will come to know the face of God, feeling His friendship and embrace. You will see beauty, finding meaning and miracles in new corners of your life. You will grow closer to others.  You will grow closer to Christ.

So don’t wait! There is an incredible journey waiting for you, but time flies! And I have a feeling that come the end of Lent, we may all be asking, has it really been 40 days already?!  Don’t waste a minute of this precious journey!