Tumechoka

Tumechoka. We. are. tired. 

Just after taking this photo, Kelvin says to me, 

"Baby, you need to wipe all the sweat off your head. Your face is shiny." 

People, we are tired. Really tired. 

What do I mean by that? We are tired of just life. Kelvin and I both feel exhausted with everything - work, the boys, the ladies, the HEAT, mombasa, our church, the food, finances, and well, everything. 

This morning, Kelvin woke up with a sore throat and a stuffed nose. The fan is giving him so many troubles at night. The tough part is that the fan is so necessary. I woke up the second the power went out last night and immediately started sweating. In the mornings, I find that I wake up more tired and dehydrated than before I went to bed. Yes, the heat has been horrible. I mean horrible. (Canadians, don't even begin to complain about the snow and rain. At least you have the option of a warm house. We don't have cool air. Ever.)

Yesterday, I had a rough morning before heading to church (I believe it was the devil scheming). I was in tears as I was sweating, trying to muster up any energy, battling a heat headache, not able to find the right clothes to wear, struggling with my bra (yes, my bra), and general weariness. I am so glad I pushed through and went to church. Church was SO refreshing for both Kelvin and I. We really needed it. On the way home though, I was drained. I was so hot, still had my headache, tired, emotional, and tired. I got home and passed out on the couch. We didn't eat lunch till 4. 

We love our work, but we are a little tired of it. We love our house, but we are tired. Mombasa is great, but I am tired of it. I remember other missionaries telling me that after every 3 months, they start to get weary and tired and must get a away even if it is only for a couple days. That is where we are at. 

Every morning, as we are eating breakfast, we do a lent devotional which is preparing our hearts for Easter. As we are walking along with Jesus, as he walks in his final hours, we are amazed at His strength. Particularly, his weakest moment in Gethsemane has really struck us. The moment where He feels He can go on no longer and asks for this cup to be removed from Him. At that moment, He must have mustered up some supernatural strength from His Father above to say, "Yet not my will be done, but yours." He knows what is going to happen. He knows the cup won't be taken away from Him. But He draws strength from The Father to do what He is suppose to. 

Kelvin and I are tired. But in our weak moments, we have decided to draw our strength from God trusting that He will indeed grant us the rest we need and renew our energy.