In Kenya, when your arrival in a village coincides with a rainstorm or the birth of a calf, you are said to bring God’s blessing with you. For rural areas, the necessity of rain for crops and cows for milk is crucial. While I never depended on cows for my survival, since living in Kenya I’ve considered rain the most obvious form of God’s approval to me. And without fail for the last five years, when I’ve traveled God has sent me rain to remind me of his continuing presence with me.
Yesterday, it rained in July, and kittens were born in my closet. While cats have no survival value in rural African society to me they mean everything. I’ve owned cats almost since I was born, buried more than I care to think about, and have never found a better source of companionship. For my birthday last year, Brice gave me a six week old kitten who I named Willow after Grandmother Willow from the Disney movie Pocahontas. I cannot take Willow with me to Egypt, and I will miss her more than I let myself realize right now. But God sent me a reminder of his blessing for our move: five kittens born two weeks before I leave the country.
And did I mention it rained in July?
His grace is way more than sufficient.