The Journey-Ch. 1

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Due to the length of the journey from the USA to Kenya all planes must first stop in Europe. After much preparation of getting all the supplies I could to bring to the kids and packing my bags I got to stop for an extended stay in France to be in a wedding. All was well when I left America with my bags. This was not the case when leaving Europe.

The morning I was to leave for the airport in France was sunny and cool. I was soaking in the beauty realizing that in less than 42 hours the scenery would be vastly different. I opened my Bible and read in the Old Testament about going through the fire and the flood and God being with us through it all. Little did I know that I was about to almost be drown in the flood of frustration. My heart was filled with excitement knowing that in another 2 days I would be seeing the children that I had said goodbye to with six months earlier. I got to the airport anxious to be on my way.

Word Problem:

#1-You have 170 lbs. worth of luggage to carry to a foreign country. In America this is not a problem but in Europe it is. You get to the counter at the airport and find out you can only have 30 Kilograms of luggage.

1 KG=2.2 lbs. How much overweight excess do you have?

If you said 104 lbs of excess you are correct!

#2- You spent money purchasing supplies and time packing the boxes of luggage. They tell you that a). you must pay an arm and a leg in order for the luggage to be allowed on the plane or b). you can leave it in the airport and it will be blown up. What do you do?

As the lady was re-weighing the bags I was trying to weigh my best option. I suddenly felt very burdened with all of this luggage and the heat was on. The weight on my heart was as heavy as my bags and the tears could no longer be held back. It is a hard decision to make in a 3 minutes time span: leave the stuff and hope that I will have some clothing left by the time I reach my destination, or take it and pay dearly.

I decided to pull out the plastic and pay. I knew that much of the stuff was not available in Kenya and I had some beautiful things for the children.

I regained my composure, paid and got on the plane with all of my stuff. Next stop, London, where I was to fly out the next morning to Kenya. I arrived in the evening very tired and hungry but thought before I get to my hotel that I would go to the British Air desk and find out their requirements for luggage.

Heathrow airport in London is like a small city. I arrived in terminal 1 and had to get to terminal 4 for British Air. I found a nice porter who loaded my boxes and walked with me the 20 minutes down the maze to the train where he told me he could no longer go with me. He said he would call a porter to wait on the other end. I suddenly wanted to grasp hold of this man and keep him by my side in fear that there would be no one else to help with my bags. I didn’t cling and, as expected, I got to the other end to find no one waiting. The waters were rising and I started to sweat…literally, as I had to pull out my boxes from the train, as well as pull my carry on with my computer and purse hanging around my neck.

Next question:

How does a lady with a 114 lb. frame manage 170 lbs. worth of stuff alone?

If you have a good answer, please let me know.

I stood there for a moment feeling and looking very bewildered, wondering what my next step was. Suddenly and employee of the airport saw my dilemma and pushed a cart to me. He helped me to stack the boxes and my carry-on in a nice tall pile on the cart and I was on my merry way ready to navigate, on my own, this cart through hallways, elevators, and hundreds of people to get to the British Air desk.

The very nice man behind the desk informed me that the rules were the same…30 kilos and that it would cost approx. $7 per extra pound. The rules differ when your ticket originates in the states. This was my problem because I had the first half of my ticket free and I purchased the other half originating in London. I was not about to pay over $700 and decided that I would try to ship it. I pushed my way over to the shipping counter and found out that it would be about $500…ugh. By this time the tears had returned. My tummy was grumbling, I was so tired I could have slept on that luggage right then and there. However, I had another decision to make…What to do with the luggage?

I decided that I would not let it be blown up but would get it to the hotel and give it away. I asked a lady where I catch the shuttle bus to my hotel and she stated, "From terminal #1"…one train ride away…

By this time I was extremely frustrated and was praying and wishing someone, anyone, could be with me to help. Back down the elevator, down the hall, down the ramp I went to the train. The porters had scattered and hid as effectively as a Texas cockroach when the lights come on. I was on my own.

I dragged my bags back onto the train for the ride, back off the train and found another cart on which to place them, every muscle in my body asking when I will cut them a break. I started the journey through the maze upwards determined to get to my hotel. The carts don’t drive as easily as let’s say, a Mercedes, or a Fiat but more like a metal cart on wheels that have a mind of their own. I was making my way, anticipating this journey being over when I got to my last obstacle…a ramp. It was a small ramp that lay between where I was and where I wanted to be. It might as well have been the Great Wall of China. I couldn’t push my luggage up. I tried, I backed up to get a better start and got the cart a good two inches up the ramp when it threatened to roll back over me. The only other option was the staircase behind my back and that really wasn’t an option at all. By this time I was praying for an angel and meaning it with all of my heart.

At this point I backed into the corner, lay my head in my hands, and decided that I was giving up trying to think of another solution because there simply wasn’t one. Crying always seems to help release the frustration and that seemed to be the only thing I could do well at the moment anyway.

A few minutes later I felt a gentle touch and heard a soft voice say in a pleasant British accent, "Dear, are you o.k.?". My angel had arrived. She had just gotten of a plane from India where she volunteered in an orphanage for two weeks. It was her first time to work in an orphanage and she had been praying that God show her what orphanages to volunteer in around the world. God had heard both of our prayers.

She came to my hotel with her bathroom scale, helped me unpack all my supplies, and repack to get my 66 lbs. She then took the rest home with her and will deliver it first-hand when she comes to work with our kids later this year. I was left in shock and amazement.

The verse kept coming back to me during the day and I understand now that there will be floods and there will be fires but we can be confident that we are never alone in them when we have Christ as our Savior.

Now I am home in Kenya with our wonderful 18 children and my heart is content. Seeing their joy and hearing their laughter makes every journey worthwhile, obstacles and all. More on them in the next chapter…

Thanks to all who love our kids through your finances, love and prayers.

jennifer

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