Ukombozi Arts Clinic - Calvonia Radford

Karibu Sana

Fri, 01 Feb 2013 04:18:40 GMT

If I heard those words once, I heard them 1,000 times. For those who don’t speak Swahili, Karibu sana means ‘ You are very welcome’ or literally draw close. From the time we entered Kenya until we left two weeks later we were constantly reminded that we were welcome. It started in Nairobi when we were greeted at the airport and welcomed into a home to rest for a few hours between flights. And again, in Kisumu, when Norah and her husband, Raphael parents of five children shared their home with us.

I think that word welcome has become a byword to us who speak American English. We use it habitually, but generally it is not genuine. The Kenyans, however know how to give a heartfelt welcome. Kenyans make me feel ashamed of my unwelcoming behavior.

I have to be honest. Sometimes when my doorbell rings, I sigh. I commute 45 minutes one way to work each day. I am a supervisor, so my days can be somewhat stressful. Not to mention I am a Pastor's wife, so often, my day does not end when I get home. Lest I fail to mention, I am also a student. I attend class one day a week and have a class online. I have every reason to desire some private time. I am naturally an introvert, which means that I DO NOT need, or crave people time. Don't get me wrong, I love people and I appreciate the relationships that God has allowed me to build. But, I am most comfortable and the most effective with one on one time.

When you enter a Kenyan's home each family member comes to greet you with a hearty "Karibu sana" or "You are most welcome". They don't stop with words. They are not satisfied until they have served you something. Traditionally, that would be Chi (tea) and some biscuits (shortbread cookies) or chapati (unleavened flatbread) at the least. During our stay in Kenya we were invited to more homes than we had time to visit. Some of those families hosted us for a meal. We were told on numerous occasions that when you have a visitor, you are blessed. "We never know if we are entertaining angels unaware", they proclaimed. WOW! "Lord, help me change my attitude". I prayed that prayer repeatedly. I still pray that prayer. I believe that God has sent me angels. Some of which were wrapped in the flesh of those visitor's knocking at my door. I wonder if sometimes, God is the one who is standing at my door knocking. Do I welcome him heartily? Do I see every visit as a blessing? Or am I so busy, that I sigh when I hear the door bell.

Exceedingly,abundantly, above....

Sat, 18 Aug 2012 04:10:56 GMT

Step one: I sent out letters requesting support, just as I had been instructed to. I wrote a letter expressing my desire to serve God and serve his people in Kenya. I asked people to pray about supporting me. I even included a self addressed, stamped envelope. I recieved a few responses.

Step two, the Obama way: I posted my desire on facebook and asked people to cast thier bread upon the waters. This time, I recieved several donations. However, I was nowhere near my goal.
I should have become discouraged, but God encouraged my heart. I knew that he had prompted my spirit to go and he would provide.

Step three: I sent out e-mails to a few sisters from church and in my inner circle. This time two sisters responded. However, God arranged for me to provide some early childhood training and along with some help from my family, I was able to turn in enough money to get my airplane ticket right on time.
Shortly after meeting that deadline, I received a phone call from the president of the Ky. Missionary Baptist Association's Women's auxiliary. She said that they decied to make me their project. WOW! Casondra and I went there this week to make a presentation. The women were so encouraging and supportive. It was reassuring to know that they would cover us in prayer while we were on our trip. The president explained that there would be an offering taken up on the follwing day. I had great expectations. I thought that they would take up a few hundred dollars. I knew that this was a generous group because I had been there when they supported missionaries from Haiti. To my surprise, they raised $1,000.00. It brings me great pleasure to announce that my trip is now fully funded. Not only did they raise a large sum of money, additonally a few of them committed to sponsor a child. Some have made the decision to support the organization, Redeem with God on a regular basis. God is so good. Now that my trip is funded I can concentrate more on getting supplies to help them. I can hardly imagine what God has in store. I know that it is more than I can even imagine.
" Now to Him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us, to Him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen." Ephesians 3:20-21 NKJ

TAKE OFF YOUR SHOES

Sat, 07 Jul 2012 00:36:23 GMT

My father married my step mother when I was only three years old. He was serving in the Navy and was on a tour in the Philipines when he met his bride. Needless to say, the filipino culture became a major part of my life early on. The one thing that sticks out to me the most is the practice of not wearing shoes in the house. When you drive up to my dad's house you will see shoes on the front porch and shoes beside the back door. Once you enter the house you will find shoes beside the door.
My experience with other cultures didn't stop at my introduction. One of my best friends in elementary school was from Cuba. Her mother didn't speak but a few words in English. My grandmother , somehow talked her into becoming a room mother and the two of them served alongside each other all year. I remember Momma saying "I'll help you" and off they were.
I now have a wide array of multicultural friends: My Mary Kay friend from Germany, my college friends from India, my bible school classmate from Kenya, and my coworker from Mexico. The international friends that my daughter has brought to my house from all around the world are too numerous to count. My friend who is hard of hearing and speaks sign language has helped me learn ASL. The list goes on and on. It all started with a simple instruction, "take off your shoes". What will it take for you to get out of your comfort zone and become acquainted with someone from another culture. God created a rainbow, don't get stuck on one color.

Displaced Shame

Sat, 05 May 2012 02:40:04 GMT

It was displaced shame
It was displaced shame that made her hang her head,and slump her shoulders.
That persauded her to seal her lips.
To remain, mute.   With the exception of the silent screams , that only she and God could hear.

Speechless is what she became.
Not that she didn’t have anything to say.
She had a story. Tragic though it   were. It was her story.
But who wants to give a testimony that noone will believe.
Noone will validate, authenticate or substantiate.

So she began to doubt her own story. She has suppressed the memory, blocked out the strong emotions.
It’s not as if she had a vivid recollection of the event.
Yes, the taste of the salty sweat that had dripped down onto her face was still in her mouth.
The smells of the perpetrators still burned her nostrils.
The bruises and grass stains where still embossed upon her skin.

She represses her feelings. Wearing a 'mask' to appear normal as if nothing has changed.
“If I don’t think about it, maybe it never happened“ she says to herself convincingly.
Hoping that if the memory vanished, so would the pain.

Not only does she say it to herself, she mumbles it to everyone in her sphere of influence as she conceals the evidence
with her over sized clothes.
She conceals it as long as she can.
Not admitting to herself that eventually she will have to tell

It was displaced shame

Displaced shame

It was displaced shame that prompted her to bury her head into the pillow and sob through the night.
But to quickly wash her face of all traces of sorrow by the morning light.
She must appear as normal as any other 16 year old girl.
She must smile and laugh and go about her usual day. So that noone will ask questions. So that noone will look down into her
soul for the truth.

She trudged deeply in this displaced shame for what seemed like an eternity.
The scents and emotions of that tragic event were fading.
The memories were even more blurry.
Only occasionally did she feel the emotions of sorrow and that sick, gut wrenching feeling in her stomach.
Until…

Until
that day when she read Isaiah 53:5, "He was pierced through for her transgressions, He was crushed for her
iniquities; the chastening for her well-being fell upon Him, and by His scourging she was healed."

Healed. Yes, He was violated so that she could be healed.
Displaced shame.

She opened her heart to him.
He became the lifter up of her head, her burden bearer, her heavy load sharer.
He turned her mourning into laughter.
He took on her shame and replaced it with the oil of gladness.

No more Displaced shame!

Written by Calvonia
Radford

March
26,2012

A God ordained appointment

Tue, 17 Apr 2012 19:02:01 GMT

Last night after returning home from a awesome Revival, my husband reminded me that I hadn't picked up any bread and milk from the store. I had intended to do that two days ago, but a normally busy schedule had distracted me from my priorities. He had his pajamas on and I was still fully dressed so, needless to say I was the elected errand girl.
Normally, I would have driven off thinking "why am I the one going out in the night to the store?". But, I had just heard a convicting revivial message and I was still savoring the word. So I was on good behavior.

As I entered the vegetable section of Kroger, a very beautiful, neatly dressed young lady confronted me. "Ma'am", she said, "Do you mind if it ask you a question". " Not at all", I replied. "Do you usually shop at this time of night?" she continued. "No I don't". "It's very different", she said with an uneasiness written upon her face. "Yes, it is, but we will survive", I declared. And on we went.

As I came to the end of my shopping experience and approached the checkout lane, she was there. As if she were waiting for me. "Do you mind if I ask you another question?" she asked, as if she were bothering me. " No not at all" I said with a smile on my face. "What time do you usually shop?". "I usually shop on Saturdays when I have more time". I threw her question right back to her "And, what time do you usually shop". "I don't have a usual time anymore" she said,her countanance now dropping. "I have a baby at home and three other children that I home school." "Since the baby was born it's just too hectic to bring the children with me". "There is no time for the "yes sweetheart you can get that can for mommy". Immediately I remembered what grocery time felt like to me when my children where young. So, I informed her that "this too shall pass". I went on to tell her that I was a mother of three and my husband and I had helped raise many. There was a time when we had four preschool children in our house. "My youngest is in college", I said as I set a very serence atmosphere. "This is just a moment in time". She finished checking out and turned to say" it was nice to meet you" and I gave the usual," nice to meet you too" response.

Just a few minutes later as I walked quickly in the dark to my car, that lady came walking to me very quickly as if her life depended on it. She came to a screeching halt right in front of me. "Can I ask you you just one more question". "Yes". "Do you worship some where?" "Yes I do?". "I thought so" she responded with tear filled eyes. She went on to thank me for letting God's light shine through me. She said that she needed that tonight because she was tired and really wanted to be at home resting. She was so thankful that I was kind enough to talk to her, kind enought to smile. I thanked her for coming back to tell me that and I told her that she was a good mother. "Keeping doing what you're doing" was my closing remarks.
As I drove home, I thanked God for that divine appointment. I appreciated him using me when I didn't even know that I was being used. Now, I was the one with tear filled eyes. I wonder how many of those appointments I've missed.
"Be not forgetful to entertain strangers:for thereby some have entertained angels unawares." Heb. 13:2

Expectation

Fri, 06 Apr 2012 16:55:09 GMT

Expectation is a confident belief or strong hope that a particular event will happen. As I plan both mentally and financially for my journey to Kenya, I ponder on what my expectations really are. Or am I free from any expectation at all. Do I expect that God will use me to free every daughert that is in bondage. Will all the lost be found or all the broken be mended while I am there. No, those are not my expectations at all. I am perplexed because I have no expectations. Should I?
I am a firm believer that "if you fail to plan, you plan to fail". That being said I should have a strategic plan in mind. That plan having an outcome (expectation). I have been taught the SMART plan. SMART goals are Specific, Measurable,Attainable, Realistic and Time appropriate. I do not feel compelled to write goals as I prepare for this journey. I feel that if I go with expectations, I will set limits on God.
I have learned that when I ask God specifically to handle things the way I feel they should be done, God shows me that HIS thoughts are higher than mine. He is able to do exeedingly, abundantly above all that I I can ask or think, according to his power that works in me.. (Ephesians 3:20)
My goal is to be open to the prompting of the Holy Spirit. I am praying that I will see the daughters of Kenya through his eyes. He will lead, and I will follow. My desire is that I can help somebody as he gives me power.

30th Wedding Anniversary

Sat, 31 Mar 2012 15:46:20 GMT

On March 19, 1982 I married my soul mate, Moses Radford. I met Moses when I was 15. It was love at first sight. Or maybe, I should say "Love at first hear". We were both attending a Congress of Christian education in our church district. He entered the class a little late. The teacher greeted him with "Moses, it's so good to see you. Will you lead us in prayer". I remember thinking, Why is she asking him to lead us in prayer, he's late. As he began to pray my mind quickly left it's previous thought as I was ushered into the presence of the Lord. This 17 year old man spoke to the Lord as one who had a relationship with him. I knew at that very moment, he was the one. I would one day be his wife.
I wish I could recount this romantic, happily ever after story. But it would not be true. It was two years later before we began dating and we married two years after that.
Our marriage has not been a bed of roses. There have been some thorns. But thank God, the rose bush still blooms. It still has a sweet fragrance. That fragrance does not come from the two of us but from the third thread in our marriage cord, Jesus. Jesus has given us the ability to stick it out when in the valley and the stamina to keep going when climbing mountains. I can truthfully say that the journey has been worth it. I'm looking forward to spending the rest of my life with him.
On December 27th, I will journey to Kissimu, Kenya to share with the precious daughters of Kenya. I want to share with them that waiting for the one God has for you is worth it. They need to know how to have a passion for purity. Those of them who have been damaged emotionally by a victim who stole their purity, need to feel the loving arms of a God fearing Woman who can share the story of redemption. I want them to know that God has not forgotten them. He still has a plan for their lives.

My First Donation

Fri, 09 Mar 2012 01:37:27 GMT

I did not decide to leave my job for two weeks and serve the hurting daughters of Kenya because I have the money to do so. God doesn't call those with the means to serve, but with the will to serve. When I felt God tugging on my heart to serve along side my daughters in Kenya, I trusted him to provide. He is already showing me his provisions. My first donation came in the mail yesterday. I believe that it is the first of all that I need. There is an old hymn that is ringing in my head as I write this blog. The lyrics are "rescue the perishing, care for the dying. Jesus is merciful, Jesus will save." Everyone needs to hear this message. No one should go without feeling the arms of God through the loving touch of one of his children. I want to be that person who reaches out to touch the hurting. I have the will and God has the way.

Emmy, my sister that I've never met.

Tue, 28 Feb 2012 02:43:31 GMT

When my daughter, Casondra returned from the World race in November of 2010, she suggested that I e-mail her Kenyan mother, Emmy. She had fallen in Love with Emmy and her husband Pastor Elisha, her host family in Kenya. I reluctantly wrote Emmy, not really expecting anything. Just a cordial letter or two, just because. Little did I know that God was in the plan. Emmy and I hit it off immediately.
1. We are both Pastor's wives, mothers and employees. 2. We both have a heart for young women and young couples.

Emmy and I agreed to share prayer requests. As we did, we found that the only thing that separated us was the ocean. Our lives seem to mirror each other. When I read her concerns, I feel as though I am reading my own. I thank God for Emmy and how we have bonded. I am looking forward to our first face to face meeting. I believe that God will do great things through us when we are able to pray together on the same soil.

It's Coming to Pass

Sun, 19 Feb 2012 23:36:54 GMT

I vividly remember an African American missionary lady who came to my church when I was a teenager. As I viewed her film strips and heard her share stories of how her feeble efforts impacted the lives of those less fortunate than her, those who needed to hear the sweet story of Jesus and His love, I knew that one day God would allow me to serve him in a similar way. Little did I know that God would use my daughter to lead the way. I have a yearning to help the daughters of Kenya. I want to be the arms and hands of God to the precious people of Kenya. I am trusting God for the provision to go.