Unforced Rhythms of Grace

Back and forth, back and forth. 

"See, you do it like dis, like you are swimming, on top of d'water."

I watch her hands as she rolls the rolling pin back and forth across the dough, first one way, then another.  I watch her hands, hands that have seen so much life, raised so many babies, seen so many years.  And I marvel at the strength of these Kenyan women, who upon first impressions seem so timid, so shy.  And then you enter their domain, you enter the kitchen, and you see them shine.  You see their smiles, you hear their laughter, you listen to their stories, their language and words flowing like a liquid wave, washing over your soul. And you find out that this is what grace is about.

I spent the morning in tears and the afternoon in laughter with these women.  The tears mainly from the onions, the laughter mainly from a riotous game of musical chairs and other events.  Today was the Employee Olympics, where all 50+ employees share a meal and then participate in a series of games.  It's an opportunity for the Kenyan staff to step back from work and fellowship with one another.  But with these games comes a lot of preparation, so off I went this morning to the kitchen to assist.

It turns out I'm not very domesticated.  Actually, I should say it turns out I have no idea how to slice cabbage or peel carrots correctly and I can't slice an onion without looking like I've just come from a funeral.  I also am not very good at rolling dough into a perfect circle, most of the time.  For hours, I labored alongside these beautiful Kenyan women, who have deep laughs and unhurried ways.  Thio, the woman in charge of the kitchen, happens to have a splendid sense of humor.  As she's demonstrating how to make chapati (think fried pita bread), she's holding up some rolled out dough, "The shape does not matter.  We do not eat the shape, we eat what we bake.  So do not worry about the shape."  I don't think she realized who she was dealing with.  I gave it a valiant effort - and several hours later, we had all of the chapati dough rolled out.  There might have been more flour on our aprons than there was on the chapati, but the task was done nonetheless.

They laughed at me as tears streamed down my cheeks from cutting up the onions.  No one else seemed to be bothered by them, so I just looked like the only fool crying her way through the ordeal.  Thio comes over again, "Surely you are crying as you consider the wonder of the cross and how our Savior had to die on it," she said with a sarcastic smile.  Oh, yes, Thio, that surely is it.  I adored her all the more for her sense of humor in that moment because I couldn't wipe the tears fast enough.  Everybody else is still laughing at me.  I quickly finished the onions so I could dry my eyes and move on to the next task.

For the afternoon, I laughed along with the children and other Kenyan employees as they made their way through musical chairs, tug-of-war and a host of other field games.  To see the staff in something other than their uniforms, to see them let their guards down, to see them revel in these precious moments of life - it was a gift.  The children roared with laughter as adults fell over themselves in order to get to the coveted seat in musical chairs.  They laughed as the adults tried to eat a carrot tied to suspended string, with their hands behind their backs.  They laughed as they carried a boiled egg on a spoon, using their mouth. All of this, too, qualified as unforced rhythms of grace, even amidst hilarity and laughter.

These are the days when you fall into a heap at night, exhausted, but satisfied. 

Back and forth, back and forth. These are the unforced rhythms of grace.   

"Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly." Matthew 11:28-30 (MSG)