So, apparently my kidneys had enough stones in them that they look like overflowing bags of marbles. The doctor said I’d need some surgery, which I was not excited about because needles and I began a strong “maintain social distance” relationship decades before covid. The coffee shop crew that I see each morning were embracing their part in preparing me and I have been banned from ordering tea (which can cause kidney stones) until surgery. The day after they found out, they gave me a large glass of ice water. Boring.
A few weeks before the doctor had told me, “I’d like to do surgery soon because of the pain…” But I don’t have any pain, doc. “Well, according to the x-rays, you should…” But, doc, I have no pain. “Well, that’s unusual.” No matter what I said, I could tell he just didn’t quite believe me.
On the drive home I humorously thought of the blind man who Jesus healed and his interaction with religious leaders afterwards. “You’re not supposed to be seeing. You’re blind!” Well, yeah, but I can see. “No, blind people don’t see.” Uh, ok, but I can. “Well, that’s unusual…”
The picture here is of Epus Enkare church, meeting under a tree. The church started a few months ago in the bush of Kenya, a homestead area relying on cattle and goats and a “river” (more like a creek) that runs most of the year. It was started by another bush church that I have visited several times in the village of Isinon. Epus Enkare is actually the sixth church Isinon has started since 2014. They have committed to start one new church in the region each year.
“Illiterate bush people can’t start churches.” But they are.