February 22, 2005
Dear Friends,
What it means to be a family has taken on a new meaning for me
during the past 15 years living in Kenya. I remember sitting in
a meeting at 475 Riverside Drive and telling the mission board
that I would commit to serve for only three years because I had
to return home to my family. Ha! Twelve years later I am still
in Kenya, and my family has become so colorful and expansive.
I am ashamed to say that this is my first official newsletter
since becoming a mission co-worker. It is not because I didn’t
have anything to say, but perhaps I didn’t know how to put
words to what I have experienced. I still don’t know how
to do this, but I will endeavor to find words that will paint
a picture so that you can get a glimpse of the beauty, challenges,
and spiritual richness of my service here with the people of Kenya.
This letter is simply a thank-you letter to my family. Who are
my family members? Atieno our 5-year-old asked me one day, “Why
do you have so many mothers, fathers, sisters, and brothers. It’s
not fair. Why don’t I have as many as you?”
Atieno was referring to one of my fathers who is a Bishop in
Swaziland. He walked me down the aisle when I got married eight
years ago. He gave me a new name, “Lungelo,” which
means “right.” Fifteen years ago, when I started working
for the All Africa Conference of Churches, I attended a meeting
in Lesotho that was also attended by Bishop Amos Dlamini. It was
there that he proclaimed I was his long-lost daughter, and I had
a right to come back home. Thus, my name was “Lungelo.”
Atieno was referring to another father, Robert Gachecheh, who
is a businessman in Kenya. My husband had to ask Father Gachecheh,
Bishop Dlamini, and several elders (or “uncles”) for
my hand in marriage. Part of the Kikuyu tradition, the service
is called “ngurario.” The service brought two families
together and declared that my union with my husband was not just
the two of us getting married. It was the coming together or marriage
of families that was once strangers. Now, they are one.
Among my numerous brothers and sisters are the members of First
Presbyterian in Morristown, New Jersey. When we saw news of the
attack of the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001, First
Presbyterian Church of Morristown was known to me only by name.
I had a nephew who worked in the World Trade Center, the son of
Professor Verstine Mbaya. After 9/11, we met as a family to support
each other and Verstine. When word came that my nephew’s
body was found we started preparing for the funeral. I began to
look for a venue for the funeral service and sent an email to
First Presbyterian in Morristown. They wrote back to say they’d
take care of everything. Words can’t capture the love they
shared, the way they comforted the family. I can only say that
I am privileged to be part of such a wonderful family.
Lynn is another part of my family. I met her through a colleague
who is serving in Kenya with the Evangelical Lutheran Church in
America. I asked him if he knew someone in Namibia who could help
my oldest daughter, Hawa, when she arrived to study at the university.
I contacted Lynn and introduced myself. I asked her to help me
pick up my daughter and find her a place to live, since the school
did not have on-campus housing. I did not know that I would have
to rely on Lynn for much more than this. Hawa was turned back
from Namibia due to visa problems. She spent several days in the
airport in South Africa. Lynn took over and worked through all
the governmental red tape until my daughter was allowed to enter
the country to begin medical school. I am blessed to have a sister
I have never met in person.
I have only named a few of my family members in this letter.
It is all of you, the churches that support me, the churches that
send letters during the holidays, the ones that send notes telling
me that you are praying for me. It includes the church that had
a mission conference and arranged a phone interview with me to
learn more about my work in Kenya. Thank you to those who set
a time in their prayer calendar to remember me and my family.
As we go through this holy season, I am reminded of the Good Friday
agreement that was signed over two thousand years ago. This agreement
called for a reconfiguration of the family, it called for us to
be one and to live out our oneness as a family of God.
Prayer requests
Please pray for:
- the students at St. Paul’s Theological College where
I teach
- the Young Adult Volunteers that are serving in Kenya for a
year (and for whom, through the Presbyterian Church of East
Africa, I serve as coordinator)
- my work with St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church.
Thank you, family, for your support as I serve here in Kenya.
Phyllis Byrd
The 2005 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p.
335 |
