Lunga-Lunga, Kenya

Hey team:

It's been a whirlwind over here. Joel and I got married April 15 and then honeymooned for a week in Jamaica; and two weeks later I left with a medical team for Kenya. After two weeks of recovering from travel and sickness I'm back in business.

And my first order of business is to tell you about our trip to Kenya!

Our team was made up of nursing students from the University of Alabama, four high energy and high spirited New Yorkers, and a few others from Texas, Arkansas, North Carolina and Kentucky. We were a motley crew.

Our team outside the hotel

There are dozens of stories I could tell about our time in Kenya, but a three stick out in my mind:

1. The National Partners 

Catherine is second from the right.

As a part of e3 Partner's strategy in Lunga-Lunga, we partner with local pastors and missionaries. The team of nationals working in Lunga-Lunga and the surrounding areas is amazing. These men and women have dedicated their lives to share the Gospel with the lost in Kenya.

Me and Anne with Alfa our Kenyan strategy leader.

Catherine, Body and Simon are currently in missionary training school in Kenya. Catherine is from northern Kenya, but has a passion to share the Gospel with Muslims; and Body and Simon are from the Congo! Both of them felt called to be missionaries in Kenya and moved to come to the training school.

Catherine and I went to the village together one the first day and it was surreal to talk with her about church planting and missions strategies. I know that's strange, but it gets me excited to hear that Catherine is learning the exact same strategies I've been learning in the States. We are both learning how to share the Gospel with Muslims and how to reach the unreached of the world with the Gospel!

As we talked, I was reminded how self possessed I can be...let me explain. I assume all of these cool mission strategies and tools come out of America, because I'm from here...doesn't everything good and cool come from MY country? BIG FAT NO. I KNOW this in my head, but so often my heart forgets.

When I learned Catherine is learning the same things as I am in another country across the world, well that humbled AND excited me. God is doing an amazing work in this area. He is sending workers to come and claim His people for His glory and His honor.

Daniel, Simon, Body, D, Hassan and Skyler - men of God!

2. The Rain

We came to Lunga-Lunga in the rainy season and we were ready for it!

We spent almost every evening packing medicines and vitamins for patients. And because of the rain, evenings were also spent shouting over the downpour that pounded on the tin roof of our hotel. There is nothing like a good power outage and minor flooding to bond a team together. 

Playing at the school next to our purple bus!

It actually rained so much that we were unable to get to Lunga-Lunga on our second day of clinic. My co-leader Alfa, called a local pastor and asked if he would be open to host our medical team at their Christian school...he said come on! We drove through unpaved, flooded, dirt roads to get to the Christian school and church to set up clinic. 

The surrounding villages had no idea we were coming, BUT we spread the word and within a few hours over 400 people were at the clinic doors. The rain might have kept us from Lunga-Lunga, but God had other plans for the day. 

Every child in every classroom at the school heard the Gospel from our team that day. The head master of the school reported to us that 90% of the students are from Muslim families. Seeds were planted and lives were changed.

3. The Bridge and the Purple Bus

The rain stopped half way through the week, which meant we were able to get back across the flooded bridge into Lunga-Lunga.

We had an amazing day of clinic and played with tons of children. A small team went into the village again to share the Gospel and invite people to the clinic. 

The 'waiting' room tent for the clinic.

At the end of a long day, we loaded up our huge purple bus with almost 40 people plus equipment and set off towards our hotel. 

About half way to the bridge crossing, we get a call -- the bridge had collapsed as a result of the rains earlier in the week. My co-leader and I looked at each other and said, "The bridge we drove over this morning? That one? That bridge collapsed?" Okay. Well, praise God no one was hurt and praise God we were not on the bridge when it collapsed. 

As a result, we would have to take the long way around to get back to our hotel. 

The actual time it would take to get back was unknown, because our driver only knew part of the route. We picked up someone in one of the villages who was kind enough to ride along and show us the way through the hilly and pot holed filled dirt roads. 

About two hours in to the trek a few of us in the front of the bus noticed the gas light had come on.

Now, you might know, but just incase you don't -- there are NOT a lot of gas stations in the middle of the African bush. There are a few in town, but no so much outside of town.

We just started to pray. 

And the gas light stayed on for 15-minutes. 

And 15-minutes, became 30-minutes, and that became 45-minutes.

And it started getting dark and people started getting hungry. 

Even after a 'bathroom' stop the bus just kept going. 

And we kept praying. 

After almost three total hours on the backroads we made it to the main road! The gas light had been on for 45-minutes. 

We were still rolling. 

We made it to a gas station at about the one-hour mark. 

Now I can for sure push filling up my car at home, but there is no way I could go for an hour. 

God did a miracle. A literal loaves and fishes miracle. 

After we got gas, we just looked at each other and laughed, because what in the world! God knew we'd have that detour and he provided a miraculous way for us to get home. 

So needless to say God was present and did some remarkable things in Lunga-Lunga. One of which was multiplying our gas to get us through the bush in the middle of the night!

The line for suckers was long!

It was an honor to serve in Lunga-Lunga and I will not forget the faces of the people there nor will I forget all God did among the Digo people. 

Please pray for all of the national workers who are giving their lives to these people in Kenya. Remember the Digo people and ask that many would come to know Christ as their Lord and Savior. 

all my love. until next time. 

caroline

Germany and beyond...

Our team of 22-people arrived in Germany on October 2 and we adjusted to urban life quickly. We walked an average of 6 miles a day and used public transportation frequently. I loved being in the city and enjoyed helping lead the team through the concrete German jungle. 

Our assignment for the week was to reach out to refugees living in the area in an effort to hear their stories and share Christ's story. 

The long term missionary families we worked with are rock stars. Their team is comprised of three families and all have hearts to share the hope of Jesus with refugees AND Germans. It was an honor to work with them. 

While we were in the city, our days were made up of training in the mornings and in the afternoons, we would break into smaller teams and spread out around the city. Some of our sub teams went to refugees camps and helped by serving tea, folding laundry or helping with childcare. Other teams went directly to the homes or apartments of refugees to share a meal or have tea. 

My sub team concentrated on visiting refugee camps in the middle of the city. We went and played soccer with families and ping pong with young men. 

In the evenings, we would all come together for fellowship dinners. As we met people throughout the day, we invited them to dinner. Our goal was to create a safe place for refugees to come and enjoy a meal. 

On the first night we had 5 people come to dinner. On the second night we had 20 people come to dinner and on the last night we had over 50 people come to dinner!

The numbers kept growing night after night as people heard about the American, German, Iranian, Iraqi and Afghani believers eating and welcoming people in love and friendship. 

Sitting in the coffee shop/church in the middle of the city watching men and women from all over the world talk and fellowship was a holy moment. It felt like a little taste of heaven when all of the nations will come and worship the one true King.

It was an honor to meet men and women from Iran who came to German not just because of war, but because they wanted to be free to worship "the Jesus" as they would say. I got to pray and talk with sisters from Iran who are now free to worship the God they love. 

On the first night, I was honored to meet a young man named B. B lost his entire family because of the war. We talked through Google Translate (technology is amazing) for an hour about sports, family, and God. I asked him if he knew God. His response was, "Of course!" He laughed when I asked him, because who doesn't know about God right?

And then I asked him if he knew Jesus. His response was more subdued and he nodded, but then changed the subject quickly. Come to find out, B has heard about Jesus a lot. His new friend from his refugee camp has been telling him about Jesus. 

B is so fully of hope and joy. For someone who's suffered so much, I was in awe of his tenacity for life; and now he has an eternal hope, because of Christ. At the fellowship dinner, he accepted Christ as the Lord of his life. 

I was not at the dinner when this happened. I took a group back to the hotel early. But, when the second half of the team arrived at the hotel and told me my new friend was now my new brother I was overcome with excitement and joy. 

This is just one story of hundreds and I suspect thousands. God is moving among refugees and among Muslims like we have never seen before. 

He is close to the broken hearted and He is near to those who suffer. I saw this first hand in Germany. I am humbled and honored to have been a very small part of the movement that is happening in Germany and Europe. 

God is on the move and I am excited to see what happens in the next few years. This window of opportunity will not stay open forever. Would you pray for more workers to go into the harvest? Would you pray for people to be open to the Gospel of hope? Would you be open to go with me? 

We are all called to participate in the spreading of God's word and I hope you find joy in praying, going or giving to missions both locally and globally! 

To God Be the Glory! 

Caroline 

Understanding Grace

Grace is difficult for me to grasp. 

I understand ‘grace’ in the Biblical sense—we have been given favor and forgiveness from our sins, because of God’s sacrifice and his mercy towards us. 

However, when ‘real’ life comes in to play, it is difficult for me to grasp the concept of grace. Specifically, it’s difficult for me to show myself grace.

I like rules. Let me candid—I love rules. Rules bring balance and structure to my life. I was typically a teacher’s pet, because I enjoyed school. I did my homework and classwork, because I liked to learn. It just so happened I also liked praise from adults. Is it my fault these activities went hand in hand? I still enjoy ticking things off of my to-do list and I enjoy praise from others when I finish a project at work. 

What I didn’t realize until I was an adult was somewhere along the line I became my own worst critic. I would internally criticize myself if I didn’t complete a personal or work goal. If I only completed three things off of my long personal to-do list, I would chastise myself, “Come on Caroline. You’re better than this. Why didn’t you do the whole list?” 

When I slept in after a long week instead of getting up and going to the gym, I would beat myself up. “You’re so lazy. You worked all week and you can’t even get up on a Saturday morning?” 

I thought setting high standards for myself was necessary. In reality, the standards or rules, I set up to bring balance to my life actually weighed me down. The personal goals and check lists I thought helped me be a better person, helped motivate me to exercise more, do more, be better actually crushed my spirit. The rules I set up to bring me freedom brought destruction. 

Living a life of grace is hard. It’s hard, because it causes you to get rid of your own rules that make you feel safe. Rules or standards that make you feel like you’ve accomplished something or that you are worth something. 

Setting goals and having rules are not wrong; however, when you start to find your identity in your rules that’s when you need a heart check. When your rules become idols is when you need to step back and ask Jesus to give you a clear and intense dose of the Gospel. 

The Gospel is the truth that seeps deep in to your heart and redefines everything about you. 

When you are faced with the truth of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, you are challenged to let go of your own rules that make you feel safe and embrace a Savior who literally saves you from yourself. 

The thing about letting go of rules and accepting grace is it’s scary. For me rules are comfortable. If I give control over to God I’m scared I will somehow loose myself. What if I give him too much or not enough? 

When God is in control and when we rest in His grace we are safe. When God holds our hearts we cannot be destroyed. We may bend or even crack, but we are eternally safe in Jesus Christ, because we have an eternal hope in him. 

When you start to hand over the rules of your life to Jesus something begins to grow inside your spirit. When you begin to believe you are enough, because of what Jesus did for you and not because of your own efforts, hope is planted in your soul. 

The thing about hope is it’s like a seed that grips your heart and once it’s planted it grows…it spreads and it blocks all other weeds. It ruins you. It infects you. It spreads and leaves you breathless. 

Copyright © 2016 Caroline Damron. All rights reserved.

Gumuze City, Ethiopia

We worked in Gumuze City, Ethiopia and the surrounding villages. The trek to the Gumuze was a long one: 5-hours on a bus through lush and bumpy territory. I managed to take a whole bottle of dramamine by myself throughout the week. 

The plan for the first day was to set up the medical clinic in a government run compound. The majority of the team would run the clinic and four members of the team would go in to the villages. I was a part of the village team. Our goal was to visit eight families and bring them love gifts of clothing, salt and soap.

Our first morning we loaded up the bus with our team of 26 Americans and 15 Ethiopians. Half way through our 3-hour drive to the government clinic, we realized we'd forgotten the gifts for the village families. The eight bags were back at our hotel...

Rule number one of the mission field is to be flexible. We stopped the bus. One of our hard working Ethiopian church planters, T, jumped off of the bus, caught a small taxi and headed back to the hotel to get the gifts. 

We arrived at the government facility and there was already a line of patients waiting. While we waited on T to return from the hotel, the village team jumped in to help the medical team set up and facilitate. 

Several hours later, T arrived with the gifts. By this time it was too late for us to visit each of the eight families individually. We decided to walk to the first house and hope for the best. The trek was long and the sun was hot. Our translators told me and my two college students that we were 'strong women' to walk this road in the middle of the day. We smiled and laughed through the sweat. It's not fun unless you get sweaty and dusty right? 

When we arrived at the first home, we were greeted with smiling faces and generous hospitably. As we sat down to visit the first family, more and more people kept showing up. One of the translators leaned over to me and said, "We have all eight families here. Are you ready to go inside?" I was floored! We couldn't make it to all eight families so they all came to us!

We walked in and sat down on homemade chairs close to the hard dirt floor. Sixteen wide eyed adults sat in front of us. One of our goals in addition to sharing the gospel, is to educate the community on health issues. One of our students, Paula, shared with the families through a translator about malaria causes and prevention. I was able to share a piece of my testimony and Diane, our trip leader, shared the Gospel. 

As the story of the Gospel was translated, I focused on the families. One man to my right was rapt in attention. His eyes widen as Diane and the translators shared the story of Christ coming to earth and dying for our sins. 

After we shared, the translators, who are amazing and passionate church planters in the area, shared a little more. T, the man who had gone back to retrieved our gifts at the hotel, started to speak. He spoke with passion and authority as he explained the Gospel to his countrymen. I don't know what he was saying, but I know that T can preach the word! 

As T shared, more eyes lit up. Everyone in the room was interested in this man called Jesus.

We asked T what the families thought. He told us that everyone wanted to accept Christ: all eight families wanted to follow Jesus. 

My eyes filled with tears as he said the words. Praise the Lord for His plans are better than our own! 

We immediately asked the families if they would take the tools we'd used to share the gospel (small picture tracks) and share the gospel with each other! The man who's eyes lit up early in the conversation stood up. He said he would share with the group. It was an honor to see these new believers, men and women, learn to share what they just heard with others. 

So many times we make discipleship and telling others about Jesus difficult; but, in the New Testament we see over and over again, people hearing the Good News, being transformed and going out to their neighbors and friends and telling them about Jesus. Disciples making disciples making disciples. 

T and his friends will continue to meet with these families of new believers. They are committed to discipling and encouraging these families who are new in their faith. 

It was an honor to be a small part of their story. To share the Good News and the hope of Christ with brothers and sisters around the world...well there is nothing better than that. 

Life's Not Logical

I wrote this a couple months ago for our church's women's blog...I just found it again and thought I would share...God's using this reality to speak to me today and I hope He uses it to speak to you as well :) Blessings.

 So often we want life to make sense.

We want a plan and a road map lined out…because we all know that trusting God will be very doable if we have a plan. We seem to say, “God I can trust you…I will give you everything…if I know what you’re planning to take away from me and what your next move is…if I know those few details I can completely trust you.”

 It’s as if we give God our hearts, but only conditionally:

      I’ll trust you as long as I know what you’re going to take away so I’ll know not to put a lot of time or effort into that thing or person.

      I’ll trust you as long as I know what my job is going to look like so I’ll know who to be nice to at the office and what extra credentials to pursue in preparation.

      I’ll trust you as long as I know whom I’m going to marry and when I’m going to meet him so I can make sure to have a free schedule and an open life plan.

We essentially want trust to be in our control, which, if we think about, is not trust at all. That kind of trust is fear driven…it’s self-driven…it’s driven by our deep desire to control.

This control thing seems to be an ongoing issue with women around the world since the beginning of time even. Remember that one girl named Eve? God told her she could trust him for everything, but there was one detail: she did not need to eat the fruit from one tree in the garden. She trusted him when it seemed logical to her, but the moment someone (the serpent) made an alternate argument… “Oh Eve God is just trying to keep you from something…he’s just trying to keep you from being in control…you want to be in control right? Well then girlfriend, eat that fruit and seize control of your life!”

 And Eve did.

 She let the fear that God was holding out on her, the fear that God was not being good to her, that God was really hurting her…drive her to take some of the fruit and eat.

 This is not a new story to us. Number one because we’ve heard it in the church, but also because it’s the cry of our own hearts everyday.

 We want life to make sense, to be logical, but so many times it doesn’t. So instead of resting in the One who does make sense we try and manipulate or put meaning to our own lives…our own situations.

 But what God wants us to do is recognize that life does not make sense. So many times our situations or lack of movement cause us to think something is wrong…they prompt us to take control and make sense of them…because once we understand what’s going on THEN, oh THEN we can trust God!

 But we’re never called to an understanding of our world, nor our situations…we’re called to dig deeper and rest assuredly in the arms of Christ. “Trust in the Lord with all of your heart and lean not on your own understanding…”.

 My own understanding even at it’s best is flawed, because it is tainted with sin and with my desire to be in control…my desire to know what I’m getting myself into…

 I challenge you (and myself) to step back and acknowledge that no matter how hard we try we’re never going to have our lives figured out. We’re never going to be able to rationalize our next best move nor the next best step… But what we can do is believe that God is in control…and that He loves us and in time He will show us the best next step.

 We don’t have to know what’s around the bend…especially because we’re not driving the car of our lives…God is… Life won’t always make sense…and that’s really hard to accept sometimes, because in accepting that we acknowledge we have no control (dang it, we have no control!).

When we acknowledge our lack of control the next best step is to give the authority, the honor and the driver’s seat over to the One who does. So let’s continually (continually…every day, every minute, every second) trust and hand over the wheel to the One who planned this whole road trip anyways…God the Father, who loves us, who sent His son Jesus to die for our sins, and His Holy Spirit to be our constant comfort.

 So here’s to no plan or rather letting go of our understanding of “the plan,” our life…and here’s to embracing the One who it’s all about anyways…Jesus Christ.

 Cheers, Caroline

blast from da past...again

another loverly post from my time in France...I know I'm a bit obsessed but come on it's France for pete's sake ;)

Enjoy. Cheers.

Sunday, May 11, 2008

I was extremely excited about visiting the Loire Valley—who doesn’t like castles. My excitement was increased when our tour guide turned out to be the most wonderfully entertaining and one of the most knowledgeable women in the Loire Valley. She was just perfect for our group.

I loved that she told us about the people of the castles and châteaux, because when you simply hear about the buildings or the furniture or the artwork your mind begins to run together but when you hear about the people that is when the stories come alive.

Me and Chambord castle.

The people and the history of Europe have always fascinated me. I particularly love imagining life as it would have been for the people of the middle Ages, and it was awesome to hear about some of the very people that have always interested me—Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine. With this background of people and history I was able to really appreciate the castles more. I was able to imagine all of the work and the life that was conducted in these huge homes.

My favorite castle was probably Chambord—Francois I huge hunting lodge. I loved it because of its grandeur and the intricate design that you could look at forever but held a certain harmony that pleased your eye at the same time. The winding stairs were particularly wonderful (however I do not see how plays were held on them).

Chambord castle

The entire Loire Valley holds a sort of mystery and amazing since of the past it just makes your heart come alive with imagination and the beauty pleases your senses and leaves you breath taken.

I <3 the Loire Valley.

Chateau de Chaumont

From the Past...

I've technically been blogging since the spring of 2008. That's a little over three years, which is strange to think.

Anyways.

My original blog was meant primarily for my friends and family to read while I was studying abroad in France during my sophomore year in college. It's fun for me to go back from time to time and read some entries from my travels...one stuck out to me recently so I thought I would share. {also this is my attempt to make more blog posts on this blog...even if it is a recycled post...shhhh}

Sunday, May 11, 2008

When I read on our calendar that we were going to Giverny I had no initial excitement or extreme interest, because I had no idea what or even where Giverny was. When I found out that it would the place of Monet’s gardens I was very pleased: I like Monet it would be nice to see the garden’s that he painted so often.

If I had only known in that moment—when we walked up to Monet’s house you could not help but fall in love with everything around you.



The colors of the flowers were magnificent, and as our tour guide told us, were very particularly planted by Monet. He mixed certain warm and cool colors together to create a feeling or to draw your eyes in a certain way. Monet would love to see how the light played off of the different mixtures of color—it was just amazing to hear all of the specific detail he placed in his garden.
When we crossed the road toward the Japanese water garden my mind was still on the rows and rows of flowers back at the house, but when we came upon the water and the weeping willows my heart was stolen again.

Monet really knew how to capture the imagination through natural beauty. He saw how humanity grows and can really live through nature. He was a little eccentric (a little more than most) but his genius has left the world with beautiful works of art and with a garden restored to its original beauty to again tempt the public as it had tempted him.


My best friend/roommate Anna and me in Monet's garden...obviously having too much fun.