Son of ` It’s not for me, it’s for my mother’

April 25, 2004

Long long ago I wrote about the trauma of having to buy personal items for my mother when I was a kid, and how when I had to buy them for Nancy, it got worse. It got a LOT worse last week.

We are about an hour away from shopping, so since I was in town, it was only fair that I would buy the product that she wanted. I went into the store, and looked and looked, and finally found the product. But Nancy had asked for Super Thin, and that was NOT on the box.

So I took a DEEP breath, and asked a clerk in the store. It is always an adventure to ask for anything in a Kenyan store, because communication can be problematic. I’ve asked for bread and been directed to sea salt. But it is FAR worse when you have no idea what you are asking for. I have absolutely no concept of what Super Thin means, and a horror of ever finding out. But I had to ask:

Me: Is this Super Thin?

Her: Do you want wings?

Me: I have no idea what that means. Please don’t tell me.

Her: It will probably be ok.

Never again.

This has been a month to ponder the eternal. The Petts, some fellow missionaries we met three years ago were murdered in Uganda. They were nice people; former dairy farmers who sold their farm to come to try to help in Africa. They were teaching at a technical school, and they were murdered and the school was burned.

Murder is always a tragedy, but when it involves people who are trying to extend kindness it is always such a painful blow. They have three grown children; please pray for them if you think of it.

One of our dorm guys was at home during the break, and had a perforated bowel. His parents are stationed in Tanzania, and the hospital he was at had two people to a bed.

Eighth grade. Fighting for your life. And doing it while sharing a bed with a total stranger. It boggles the mind. He is going to make it, but the reality of being remote hits home again.

There was some good news. One of our students was accepted at Princeton. When I heard the news, I thought about the path I went down to become the college advisor.

When I was in the states, I worked for three companies that went belly up in the course of 16 months. I got a job at a company selling publishing to universities. It was not an especially good job; the owner was an eccentric man... I was so gun shy after the other companies going under that I tried to make it work.

After my first year at the company, I was consistently the top performer for many years. It did not make it easier for me at the company, and I began to try to find another job. I couldn’t find anything that would pay near what I was making, and so I endured lots of humiliations for many years. I was up for a job that received 600 resumes, and it came down to me and one other person, and when I didn’t get the job, I can still reach back and feel the disappointment and hurt I felt.

The job brought me to the campuses of almost 800 colleges. I learned much about colleges, and the quality differences between them. I didn’t enjoy the company, but I truly enjoyed the college environment.

I absolutely love what I’m doing now. Talking to kids about college is one of the most satisfying things I’ve ever done.

And the reason I bring some value to it is because of those eight tough years. All those years that I thought were a waste brought me back to technology, and then being fairly knowledgeable about colleges. And a young man from a small school that struggles with baboons on its campus is going to Princeton.

You can trust His plan for your life.

At the marriage seminar we recently attended, we were eating under the stars, and there was a dance floor. It is against RVA policy to dance, but I asked the pastor for a special exception, and he granted it. It was a beautiful evening, warm with a nice breeze.

I asked Katie if she would dance with me, and she very seriously replied `Yes I will.’ We walked to the dance floor, she put her feet on top of my feet, and she looked up at me with a smile that was brighter than all the stars above us.

There are moments that are so special that they get you through the other stuff.

And now we get to the other stuff. I tend to shy away from asking for prayer in these letters, mostly because I figure that anyone who is reading them KNOWS how much I need prayer, and they do it without asking.

But we are in trouble with the visas for the twins. Between the Kenyan government and the U.S. embassy, we have made twenty trips into town (three hours to get there and back) to try to get all the paperwork we need. We got told this week that the US Embassy was going to deny the visa we applied for.

It really doesn’t make any sense to deny it, but we are now in circumstances that we were trying to avoid by beginning this process in November. There is no way for us to get the other visa in time; some of the things they require take months, and we return to the states in mid-July.

So I am asking for prayer for two things:

Pray for a miracle and that we are granted the visa we originally sought. It will take the hand of God.
I want to go into this believing that God hasn’t forgotten us, and He has set this up to change things in me that need to be changed. I want to embrace this, not rage against it, and model the proper response to my children and dorm kids. I want to be more like Jesus, and I think this is a tool designed by Him to accomplish it.

I trust His plan for my life. I just want to act like I do.

Your pal,

Steve and Nancy Peifer

Kenya Address: PO Box 80 Kijabe Kenya 00220

Stateside Address: PO Box 178 Pearl River, NY 10965

Phone: 011-254-20-32046-252

peifer@kijabe.net

http://peifer.kijabe.org

http://www.yourpal-steve.org/