The terrain below becomes barren as we approach Turkana territory. Sunlight glints through a substantial gap in the Emergency Exit. Last time I fell through the open door of a plane at 14000 feet, I was strapped to a guy. And he was wearing a parachute.
We come in low over Lodwar, this former Trading Post in the forbidding but beautiful landscape of the Lake Turkana region. There's a mix of thatch huts and block dwellings beneath us. We're down.
This is Turkana. Home to the Turkana people. These wonderful people.
We are greeted with hugs and great warmth by the SHARE staff. Their smiles are expansive. If Jesus had visited them (and he has), they couldn't have been happier.
After piling into the back of a truck we alternate between paved and dirt roads for the short drive to the SEND Center. Dust is everywhere, blanketing even the trees. It hasn't rained in some time. But the drab landscape is offset by the blazing-bright colors of the Turkana people we pass, many of whom are wearing traditional dress.
The Center is an oasis in a dry and thirsty land. We have breakfast, welcome, unpack and have a brief "jet lag” rest before lunch and orientation.
Then it's worship with the staff and missionaries and pastors. Oh what singing and rhythm and passion. Even as a drummer, among these people I feel like uncoordinated Steve Martin trying to clap to banjo on "The Jerk."
Forget The Lion King... These people are in the presence of the King of kings, and they're taking me there.
I have never met them before and this is a strange land. But even in the strangeness, I feel like I have somehow come home.
