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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: ZEST (10/01/15)
FOOTBALL AND FLIP-FLOPS

Watching our daughter, Katie, grow up as a third-culture kid in the city of Mombasa filled me with joy. She played football (soccer) with the best of them, and ran the streets in flip-flops. Kaley spoke Swahili and a bit of Arabic because we worked with Swahili Muslims in Old Town.

She seemed to enjoyed life, and did well in her studies. Although she outshone her older brother in English, he did circles around her in math. They thrived living in our third-story apartment, just outside of ‘Old Town.’ Home was their favorite place to be. They enjoy laying on the blue carpet in our living room, or plopping on one of the posh red pillows that lined the walls.

David, my husband, taught at Pwani Bible Institute and worked with the Arab men. We trust God that the weekly meetings we had started in our home would become a house church.

When Kaley turned thirteen she experience various problems. We were concerned, but felt much of it was related to puberty. She frowned every time we discussed Rift Valley Academy (RVA). When we asked her who she would like to room with, she would change the subject or freeze up. All her friends would be there. We didn’t know why going to Kijabe was a problem for her. Most missionary kids attended the American school until Middle School, then transferred up to RVA.

Kaley had bouts of malaria. The heat and humidity did not agree with her. But because of the fun things she enjoy, Kaley rarely complained. She would grab a piece of fruit on the run, and tended to pick at her supper. I was glad that she would be up in Kajabe, where the weather would be much more pleasant. I was sure she would feel better.

But before she ever left for Kijabe, she woke up one morning complaining about nausea and a horrific headache. “Oh, another case of malaria.” I told myself. Every day Kaley found it harder and harder to get out of bed, and was not eating. She couldn’t go to school, lost interest in reading, and dragged herself around the house. After a week, we took her to the doctor, a Sikh man from India, who had treated hundreds of Americans.

He examined Kaley. “What have you been doing with yourself, young lady?”

Kaley looked at him with a mournful grin, “What do you mean?”

“You are a very sick young lady. You do not have malaria. Dengue fever is causing you to feel so miserable.”

He talked to us, and suggested that we return to the States until Kaley fully recovered. He suspected that there was a bigger problem than Dengue fever.

We prayed, and determined that this was the right thing to do. With very little preparation, we transplanted our family back to the States. As the plane landed in Atlanta, we looked worn out and miserable. I could tell by the slump of the shoulder how hard this was for David, Readjusting to life in the States would be tough.

The doctor was right. It took three years for Kaley to get well. I was so relieved to see her smile again. Reluctantly, but with a sense of God’s leading, David took a pastorate in Birmingham, Alabama. We learned to trust God, even when we couldn’t understand.

Fifteen years later, David and I smiled as our plane landed in Nairobi. Our church had sent us on a missions trip to Kenya. The sun broke into a glorious burst of orange to greet the day. We had left Kenya with pain in our hearts, but we were returning with joy.

After customs, we spotted Kaley, Brad, and their new son Caleb. We had never seen our first grandson. He smiled at me, and said, “Grandma?” Kaley and Brad had done a good job of preparing Caleb for our arrival.

We stayed at Mayfield Guesthouse overnight, and then headed down to Mombasa. Memories flooded our hearts. The Mombasa Road had not changed a bit – still the same potholes with a few additions. We noticed the bounce in Kaley’s steps. We entered their living room and stared. The blue carpet was accented with posh red pillows. The Swahili Arabs we had worked with now had a flourishing house church which met in Brad and Kaley’s home. Kaley still plays soccer. We saw her run on the beach in flip- flops, just like she did as a kid
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This article has been read 775 times
Member Comments
Member
Date
Donna Powers
10/08/15
A very interesting look into the life of a missionary family. This is a good application of your wonderful story-telling skills
Lynn Smith
10/08/15
Loved reading your story. I always enjoy mission stories. I liked how you ended it with the couple visiting Kenya. Seeing their daughter there with her husband and child was a nice touch.

All the best. :)
Pat Small
10/08/15
I saw a number of errors that I think may have been typos. I loved your story. We spent 17 yrs. as missionaries in Brazil, and know several from Africa. You did a good job of conveying a lot of the emotions that we, and our children, experience in a third world culture.
C D Swanson 
10/09/15
Excellent job with the topic. It is always amazing to me how God uses those to do his work in this field...beautiful!

God bless~
Loni Bowden-Horn 
10/09/15
This was an interesting story about serving as a missionary in another country. I was moved that went back to Kenya after her many bouts with sickness.The joy you must have felt to go back all those many years later.
Shann Hall-LochmannVanBennekom 
10/10/15
This is a great story. You did a nice job of pulling me in. My heart ached for Katie. I know what it's like to be sick for a time. It says a lot about her personality and courage.

Be careful about your tenses. I think they were mainly typos, but you did have a slip or two. (I remember seeing enjoy instead of enjoyed) One thing to do is ask someone else to read it aloud. If he stumbles at all, you'll know you may need to go back over it,

Instead of telling that Katie enjoyed something, try showing what that enjoyment looks like to avoid POV shifts. For example: Katie giggled as she belly flopped on the posh red cushions.

I think you did a nice job of bringing the story full circle. The ending made me smile and left me with a warm feeling inside.
Larry Whittington
10/10/15
The verb tenses were a little rough in places.

Also the transition about the sickness and healing seemed to have no conclusion. A little more information was needed.

Also the transition back to Africa and seeing a grandchild that seemed to appear out of no where was puzzling.

Could be a good story for others to consider who might be thinking of going overseas as missionaries.
AnnMarie Givans
10/10/15
Your title was very interesting, and it was an attention grabber; it made me laugh. It was exciting to try and imagine what would be the story behind such a title.

The story was good, but I was a bit disappointed. To me the story did not do the title much justice.