Thankful

To some heathens, this weekend is a time to be thankful. Personally, I filled my giving thanks quota in October like a proper, civilized human being. Still, as I enjoy a three-day weekend, I cannot help but reflect and be thankful for a number of things.

I'm thankful for hot tea on the chilly, drizzly mornings of rainy season. Yes, it is still raining here in the city. We're having record rainfall. The north is in a drought. A microcosm of Kenyan disparity isn't only seen in the distance from Kibera to Muthaiga. I'm thankful for my phenomenal balancing skills. Maybe I shouldn't wear flip flops while it's pouring outside, but even as I skid across multiple patches of concrete, I maintain my balance like a seasoned pro. However, they say pride goes before the fall, so I'm sure I'll be face planting at some fast-approaching future date. I'm thankful for my mom who sets out my lunch everyday (even if it is the same thing everyday) and who gives me her raincoat when I'm drenched in rain and in spirit. Please imagine a Shakespeare-esque accent grave on drenched. If you don't, it ruins the pentameter I have going.

I'm thankful for the gift of a dream. I'm thankful that I have a God and a support base of family and friends that love to watch me dream. See, the voices in my head don't think much of my dreaming. The numbers, the words I write, they ignore the voices, but I still listen to them. So, I'm thankful for the truth. I'm thankful for the season of Advent. I have just unchecked all the boxes in front of my Christmas songs in iTunes. Also, all the DesRoches family decorations are on the slightly-worn, ever-faithful synthetic Christmas tree. Now, I'm just hoping the sun starts shining and the temperatures start rising. Although red is a color classically associated with the Christmas season, I'd rather limit the amount of red mud I have to deal with for the next month. And if we're discussing things I want to deal with minimally this next month, integral calculus and Middle English probably top that list.

Speaking of which, why did the math equation cross the road??....
Because he couldn't derive!

I'm thankful for people who laugh at my jokes, even the calculus-related ones. Speaking of which, my future husband will begin our relationship with a wisely-chosen math pickup line. Notice that there is to be no debate on that condition. Well, I digress. I'm thankful for successful runs of Shakespearean tragedies. I'm thankful for exciting adventures with smoke machines. I'm thankful for bouquets of lilies that fill your room with a lovely scent for the following week. I'm thankful for my best friend.
This was our conversation earlier in the week about difficult life situations.
Beka: "There is an obvious solution" *waiting for Davita to ask, "what is this obvious solution?"*
Davita: "What is this obvious solution?"
Beka: "Stab him, frame it on his guards, get crowned queen, and then GO INSANE."
See, Shakespeare and his crazy accent and pentameter really are universal!

I'm thankful that I have this blog to ramble on. I'm thankful that this semester is pres que over. I'm thankful that my life is as beautiful as Chad Michael Murray on the first season of Gilmore Girls. Have a thankful day!!

"Why do all my dreams extend just around the riverbend?"

Confident

"Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." (Philippians 1:6)

I almost gave in to the drudgery. I almost wrote an entire blog post about how tired I am. Then, in approximately 24 hours, I acquired a horrific sunburn on my upper legs, a hardcore scrape on my right calf and a new lease on life. I'm still tired. Ten teenage, hyper girls in a tent does not add up to a whole lot of sleep (more like a whole lot of late-night karaoke sessions). I'm in pain. Hydrogen peroxide is not a friend of mine at the moment. Neither is burnt skin. Still, there is nothing like adrenaline rushes, the Kenyan countryside and God to refresh and renew my spirit.

I can't say that this rush of newness will last. Chances are by the time Monday morning rolls around, I'll be right back into the mentality of an exhausted, stressed IB students. So, why am I so darn confident? I know that these next couple months will stretch me emotionally, physically and intellectually. I'm confident because I recognize that this existence is a process of ups and downs, of molding and making, chiseling and fixing. That's why Philippians 1:6 is sitting up there. God isn't done with me yet. Even though life can get downright rotten, he will always provide relief (even if it's just an overnight camping trip) and promises to stick with us. I can't think of a more beautiful promise than that of continued renewal and bettering of soul.

Where did this renewal come from? It came from adventure, as it always does. I jumped off a 25 foot bridge into the rushing Tana River. The funny thing about jumping off high things? You can't think about the jump. It has to be an instinctual response. Only then can you enjoy the rush of flying through the air on your way down. I rafted a river with Class Four (I think...) rapids. I floated down minor white water on my back. I stayed up to the wee hours of the morning alternately yell-singing to Avril Lavigne, Bruno Mars and the Backstreet Boys, telling a bedtime story and giggling until my tummy hurt. I became a ninja-hider for the purposes of a round of Sardines.

My joy is simple. It comes from a part of my heart that refuses to believe that the hustle and bustle is all there is to life. It also reminds me that I'm making memories this year that will last much longer than the memories of the bad hair days, the late nights of homework and the stress stress stress of senior year. Unfortunately, I don't have any photographic memories to share with you. Not having a camera severely limits my ability to capture my senior year on film. Which is a bummer because I don't have a cool new profile picture. And yet, life goes on.

I am infinitely grateful at the moment. Even though my legs are killing me at the moment with the combined force of a sunburn and flesh wound, I have a loving and giving Father in heaven who blesses me with so much.   I have so much life to live and so many adventures to have. I'm confident in tomorrow, not because there's anything I can do to make sure it works out. Instead, my confidence is founded in the promise that completion is imminent.

So, dear friends who take time out of their day to read my ramblings, smile today! You are dearly loved, by me and by our Savior. If you have a chance, do something adrenaline-inducing today. Drink some tea. Breathe deeply. And dive back into the muck.

"Well, I've never plucked a rooster and I'm not too good at ping pong. And I've never thrown my mashed potaters up against the wall. And I've never kissed a chipmunk and I've never gotten head lice. And I've never been to Boston in the faaaall."

Ludicrous

I realize that the title of this particular blog post may seem rather depressing. But between huge amounts of homework, stress and less than huge amounts of sleep, it's been an interesting couple of weeks...

In my IB drama class, we’ve been studying the Theatre of the Absurd. It’s essentially a movement that came out of World War 2. After the complete devastation of the war, philosophers and artists believed that if we, the human race, could exact such destruction on each other; we must be in charge of our own destiny. Therefore, the power to do good or evil lay in each of us, rather in the hands of the divine. As a firm believer in the presence of divine in this sorry wreck of a world, I found my personal beliefs hard to resolve with this practice. I believe that life, rather than being meaningless and circular, is actually full of meaning. The past few weeks have tried their best to convince me otherwise.

It all starts with homework. The International Baccalaureate is supposed to make you intelligent, but, there are days I feel like an idiot for ever signing up for this. I finish all my homework, feel incredibly successful and get the same amount of work the next day. I feel as if the stress should be relieved, that this next day or week won’t be as bad as the previous one. And, I’m sure you can guess what comes after this. It never seems to end, the stress, the work, the late hours, the sleep deprivation. I realize that I’m working towards a goal (graduation) but it’s feeling very distant at the moment. Yes, absurd, in the 1960s theatre practice sense of the word.

People. They’re difficult. And yet, as part of my creed, I realize that we are called to love all, indiscriminately. Still, that’s really only fully done by our Creator, the only perfect one I know. So, I promise myself that I’ll be genuine with all and love like I’m asked to. It never happens. I get frustrated and snap. Sometimes I have a legitimate excuse. More often than not, it’s stress, too little sleep, and adolescent hormones. Still, I snap and a few minutes later, feel like the worst person in the world. I can’t get over the persistence of the voice in my head that tells me to love, always and fully. My efforts? Seem ludicrous.

Futility. It surrounds me. The refugee camp in Dadaab is growing every day. People die every day because they haven’t had food, or proper food, for weeks, maybe even months. Politicians continue to slip money that isn’t theirs into their own pockets every day. We go on with our lives, untouched by despair. Economies are on the verge of collapse. People are doing research into weapons that could destroy the entire world, while others look for the cure for cancer. We, as a human race, complain, point our finger and just generally make our discontent known, and then do nothing about it. Fruitless. Pointless. Ineffective.

Such is the world we live in. I am not enough. You are not enough. We are not enough. We do not have the competence to tackle life in all its futility. That’s why I reject the view that there is no God. If there is none, life is nothing but a destructive circle. I have to remind myself when I can’t see a way out of the garbage that there is something higher, something divine who is closely involved in my life, our lives. So, the real reason that this blog post is entitled ludicrous is not because I actually believe that any of this work that I’m doing or stress that I’m undergoing is ludicrous. It’s not. But without my Father in the skies, it would be. So if you’re feeling small or insignificant, be reminded that you are indeed, rather lacking in significance. Still, I would have to say 

that being a worthwhile insignificant is a pretty decent calling.

“You hold the world within Your hands
And see each tear that falls
Through every fire and every storm
You're always enough, always enough” – Casting Crowns

Muddy

So, I created this blog with the intention of sharing my adventurous activities in my last year in Kenya. This definitely qualifies. This entire story takes place between 2:30 pm and 5:30 pm yesterday (September 4th). Before I begin, keep two things in mind: 1. I'm actually a 12 year old kid at heart and 2. This is Africa: continent of vicious downpours and intense mud.

So, yesterday was the middle school youth group kick-off (I helped out last year and hopefully, will this year). It was held at the Forestry Service's Headquarters in Karura Forest. This can only be reached by a steep dirt road that is narrow and lined by two fairly deep ditches. I arrived around 2:30 with another of the leaders, and two of the kids. When we got there, we noticed that the Canadian embassy were having some sort of picnic/celebration, so we'd have to work around two large canvas tents and a hoard of Canadians. We waited around for the rest of the team, and then set up camp and prayed before the kids came. Around 3:00, kids started to show up. Around 3:05, it began to rain. Being optimistic and a little bit naive, we presumed it would stop and we could get on with youth group... It was not meant to be..

By 3:30, it was down pouring, Kenya style. Then, the forest rangers decided to inform us that the roads were impassable when it rained to much, and basically, everyone had to leave NOW. So, I ran out in the rain to the end of the field where the boys were still playing football and call them all in. Meanwhile, we had to get kids back in their cars and send them home. Unfortunately, some parents had left and there was very little we could do. So, we started phoning parents, asking them to come get their kids. By this time, I was soaked through from running through the rain. Three of the boys were mud sliding in a huge mud puddle, and I really really wanted to join in.

At this moment, two of my favorite middle school girls ever showed up. They had walked all the way from the gate, in the pouring rain and mud just to get to youth group. It was heart-breaking to tell them that youth group was actually cancelled, so I followed it with an immediate, "Want to go mud-sliding with me?". And off we went. No, I didn't really bother to think about the consequences of my actions. I was having a good time! So, we slid through mud (my knee got a hardcore scrape) for a few minutes, kicked muddy water at each other, and overall got soaked/muddy all the way through.

Eventually, we had to pack up and try and make our way out of the forest. I piled into a station wagon with the three guys who had been mud sliding so we could concentrate the mud into one car. We got about 500 meters out of the centre, on the main road, and we had to stop. There was a HUGE line-up of cars that were backed up behind the car in front that had gotten stuck. So, Michelle, one of the leaders, jumped out of her car and decided to walk two kids to the front gate where their parents were waiting. This was around 4:00. We sat there for the next thirty or so minutes, waiting for Michelle to come back. In the meantime, the three boys (that turned into four boys) and I had a good (?) time. The middle school boys in the back were more than happy to entertain us with Michael Jackson jokes, 'yo mama' jokes and all sorts of other tomfoolery.

Finally, the forest rangers decided to inform us that "actually, there's another exit you can use that actually doesn't require driving on ANY treacherous roads". Thanks, guys. So, we then have to turn around three cars, one of which doesn't have a driver at the moment. Eventually, though, we figured it out and turned around all three cars with very little mishap. We got out the other gate safely, without Michelle. Her phone wasn't working so I couldn't contact. Finally, she used someone else's phone to call us. Turns out, she'd been walking up and down the line of THIRTY CARS that were stuck on this kilometre-stretch of dirt road, trying to organize everyone and turn everyone around so they could all get out. Michelle eventually showed up with mud all over her flip flops, tired, but not too much worse for the wear. By 5:30, I was home. I ran straight to my bathroom, took a shower, and rinsed my clothes out about five times before throwing them into the washer.

Then, I proceeded to tell the entire story to my parents, who couldn't believe that their seventeen year old daughter was stupid enough to go mud sliding and get soaked through a few days after she'd suffered from a cold. Yes, I am that seventeen year old daughter and I'm proud of every moment of yesterday. Even the moments where I scraped huge amounts of skin off of my elbows and knees while sliding through a ginormous mud puddle. I made a decision to live life to the full and to the deep this year. I believe I honored that decision yesterday.

Promising

My last class at school this Friday afternoon was spent pouring my life into a piece of posterboard using Crayola markers and pastels. So, along with the pastel stains left on my hands, this activity left me in a peaceful, reflective and hopeful state of mind perfect for this blog post.

First, let’s backtrack. My last couple days of freedom before school were spent appropriately: adventuring. I went for a hike in the newly-fenced and protected Karura Forest with Amanda, Beka, and a new friend, Hannah. We promptly got lost. After hours of wandering through this huge, dense forest, the map finally started to make sense. At long last, we found and explored both the waterfall and the caves. Our exertion was rewarded eventually with the box of chocolate chip cookies we’d left in the car at the main gate. The next day was my birthday, and my parents decided it was time for the DesRoches’ to take on Karura Forest. This time, I navigated with yesterday’s experience in mind and got us to the waterfall and caves with no major incidents. The forest is incredible. The matatus and road construction of Nairobi fade to a distant memory. So, hikes, Winnie the Pooh gift bags, John Mayer concert DVDs, and Diamond Plaza Indian food. That is how 17 years of life are celebrated in Nairobi. From there, my two last days of freedom were a blur of lunch dates, tea dates, life organization sessions, and jet lag. 

Then... School hit. Now, you may be wondering why my first blog post since the world of IB sucked me back into its inescapable muddy pot hole is entitled Promising. On the days where I’m running on too little sleep, too much stress, and no caffeine, I ask the same question. Yes, after a week and a half of school, I’m already both stressed and busy. Such is the lot of the IB student. But, I’m no longer in school to survive or simply pass my last year of high school. I’m searching for my sweet spot, for passion. Why plan your future without a passion? This, for me, is a year of discovery. I live for the moments where I join an incredible discussion on the powerful impact of a Vietnam veteran’s memoirs. Where I get to be a part of another discussion on the intrinsic nature of true friendship based on a novel I didn’t enjoy at first, but now appreciate. Where I get to share my broken heart with my peers about the famine in Africa’s Horn, and maybe later, do my part to alleviate the suffering. Where I get excited about my chemistry epiphany regarding oxidation numbers.  Where I get to walk alongside my schoolmates right after an assembly announcing the passing of a young man who graduated last year from our high school, and feel the community tangibly pull together in its grief. Yes, I have a to-do list that makes me depressed even thinking about it. But yes, my life is promising.

I find promise in other things. Last Friday night, I celebrated my birthday with six of the most incredible, beautiful girls I know. They are my inspiration, my crazy place, and my partners in laughter, tears and prayer. Karaoke with my giant crayon from Shediac’s dollar store to Taylor Swift, Celine Dion, and Jesse McCartney ensued. Sunday, I had lunch with my friend Michelle and another new friend, Daley. They lead youth ministry in the city of Nairobi, and their enthusiasm for God and his children inspires me. New opportunities for ministry that I can be involved with are arising, and I can’t wait to see what God has in store this year. Monday afternoon, I got to sit on an official Production meeting with the mostly-adult production team of ISK’s fall showing of Macbeth. I’m stage managing, learning to appreciate the stage and spotlight while not directly in it. Above all, I find promise in God’s continued love, grace and presence in my life. And yes, if you must know, today’s quote stems from the fact that this song always makes me and my sock feet dance down my hallway. Hallway dancing fits right into my hunt for abundant life. 

“It’s so clear, every year, we get stronger. So shine that light. Take my hand. And let’s dance into the Promised land. Cause I know we’ve come so far but we’ve got so far to go.”

Delightful

            Let me preface today’s bloggish thought by pointing out that the word delightful is defined by its sound. Doesn’t delightful just sound... well, delightful? Yes, if you can’t tell by my happy jabbering, I’m smiling benevolently on life at the moment.

I spent four weeks of June and July at a wonderful spot called Camp Wildwood in New Brunswick, Canada. It was my second summer as a member of camp staff. Needless to say, I spent many of those hours laughing my head off and carrying on like a crazy person. See, at camp, we live life loud. We lose our voices at campfire and Praise Craze. We get so tired that everything is funny and singing songs loudly becomes perfectly appropriate. We get whipped cream in the face and then throw it at each other (and then spend approximately twenty hours in the shower trying to get it off). We dress our campers up like minions or human crayons. We spend our weekends at friends’ houses, discovering chickens under our tent at 2 in the morning. We (I) kill June bugs. We get drenched in the rain or during Wet-n-Wild Duck Duck Goose. We stay up late talking about God, life and boys. We are shaped and taught by our awesome Father. We always have kids attached to our arms or sitting in our laps. We die laughing at some of the things campers say. We learn to comfort and hug a crying, homesick kid. We fall back in love with our Savior. It’s not always fun. In fact, sometimes, it’s downright heart-wrenching. But, I left knowing I’d left a branch of my family and a piece of my heart in McKee’s Mills. It forces you to live. That’s why I consider it a delightful place, unlike any other.

(Photo Credits to the incredible Kirsten Gargan, check her out!)

Prince Edward Island is, arguably, the most beautiful place on Earth. I live in a summer house that is a little less than a kilometre away from a red sandstone cliff and a beautiful rocky beach that can be explored and walked on for hours without seeing anyone else. It’s about rest there. We’re five minutes from the best fish and chips (and chicken fingers) in the world. We’re ten minutes from a stunning National Park, home to majestic dunes and yet another stunning beach. We’re forty-five minutes from Singing Sands, another incredible spot. The ocean, cold and occasionally jellyfishy, is our private swimming pool. The sunsets never disappoint. Oh, and PEI is home to Anne of Green Gables: The Musical. This summer’s viewing was my fifth. Live theatre never fails to inspire me, especially this show. I literally grew up on these books. The story of Anne and Gilbert is my favourite love story of all time. We also went on an annual 30 k bike ride with some family friends. This year, we got rained on. Then we sat under an overhanging at the nearby National Park’s information centre where my brother proceeded to karate kick the handicapped button and open the door for the various people walking in. My family’s not even traditionally weird, but they are prés que parfait. “Sempre en frente.”

Now, I’m home. Four days before school starts, and senior year is officially here. It’s so delightful to be home, to see the friends that Canada isn’t complete without. I spent my first day in Kenya playing some footy, getting some tackle practice in, debating the appearance of a half-octopus and half-man, learning the Parent Trap handshake with my best friend, sitting and chatting with the same best friend over a Malindi Chai Latte and a shared banana split at Java House, and then, sorting through various collections of stuff in my room. Spring cleaning. My dogs are thrilled to see their family home and the African sun shone for me today.  Thus, delightful. Even more delightful is the thought that God is walking with me still. He doesn’t need airplanes to get around (which reminds me, I need to write an entire blog post about why I hate Heathrow Airport). 

“The world tried to break me, I found a road to take me home. There ain’t nothing but a blue sky now. After all of my running, I’m finally coming home.” – Gwyneth Paltrow in Country Strong

Deep and Abundant.

Let me explain myself. I have two quotes that define my philosophy of life.

"It is not length of life, but depth of life." - Ralph Waldo Emerson
"I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full." - Jesus (John 10:10)

See, everyone always tells you to live life to the fullest. I rarely do. But, on this blog, I'm going to share my experiences of life with anyone who cares to listen. I hope to celebrate the moments where I achieve deep and abundant life and hopefully, accept the moments I don't. It may not be particularly unique or different, but it'll be me. Also, I live far away from a lot of people that I love, so hopefully this will be able to help them see a little of what I see.

So, this is going to be my journey. I hope you laugh and learn with me, as I fall flat on my face every now and then. I start my senior year of high school in a couple of weeks. The future doesn't scare me as much as all the work I have to do to get there does. However, I face this year with a promise from my Father in heaven to never leave me or forsake me, and to give me life to the full. Pretty sweet deal? That's what I thought. So, I'm going to stop writing this and get some work done.

Siku njema.