Growing up in Kenya we would spend Easter and Christmas holidays traveling to the countryside to visit with extended family. My grandparents had farms and it was bittersweet being in the countryside. Bitter for the lack of electricity and indoor plumbing but sweet for the open fields and unlimited opportunities of play and adventure that surrounded us. Our days were filled with play and enough mischief to warm a city child’s heart.
My grandmother stood at five feet tall and her hugs would melt all the heartache away. She made simple but tasteful meals. Her kitchen was nothing to write home about (ironic considering the title of this piece). It was a one room mud hut about 9 feet by 9 feet with a wooden door and a small window on the mud wall opposite the door. One corner had a stack of firewood piled up and on the ground nearby were three stones forming a triangle. That is where the magic Happened.
Most rural homes in Kenya at that time did not have electricity or piped gas connected to the house and you would use firewood to cook and keep warm. Grandma's kitchen was the coziest spot of the house to be in and sometimes you might even have a young calf in there with you warming itself. The three stones were not fancy but big rocks all of the same height. The three stones were the support needed for the cooking pots. You would place the firewood between the rocks and when the fire was going you had the heat to cook food and thus nourish your Family.
We would find ourselves back into that small space after dinner, seated and warming ourselves by the fire. If it was during the harvesting season, we would get some maize (corn) and roast it over the fire telling stories and jokes. Later in life I learned that not everyone who I thought was my cousin or uncle actually was related to me but they felt so welcome at my grandma’s that they would spend a lot of time there.
Like I said before, my grandma’s kitchen was nothing to write home about and even her food was not that special but one thing she did was to create an atmosphere that welcomed and made one feel like part of the family even if they were not related to her. I share this story to inspire us of how simple things can have a big impact. Our hope is that like my grandma's kitchen that the youth will form a community that is warm and welcoming not only to outsidersbut to each other as well.
As youth workers, our hearts are filled with joy and expectation as we look forward to this new semester. Stemming from what God will do through us and in the lives of the youth as we go through this year. Over the last year I have had a lot of discussions and received feedback from those discussions on desires and expectations of the youth ministry. Synthesizing that with the volunteers and the staff team has led us to the following three qualities like the three rocks that hold the pot over the fire when cooking in my grandma's kitchen these three should undergird our youth ministry: 1) a warm welcoming community, 2) steeped in God’s word, 3) that lives out Christ’s love.
Let us hold on to these words this year -
Belong- a warm welcoming community.
Believe-God’s truth to live by.
Become- radiating Christ’s love to the world.
We look forward to the journey ahead.
Sincerely,
Pastor Shtem & Youth Volunteers