You’ll Be Missed, My Friend

The sun had long set on that night a few years ago at the Samburu Sports Camp in the bush of northern Kenya where our mission team was staying. We were visiting our ministry partner Stakwell Yurenimo, who has a unique ministry there aimed at reconciling neighboring tribes through preaching and playing sports. Our team was finishing up a delicious supper prepared by Stakwell’s right-hand man and camp cook, Andrea. Soon we would leave the camp for a church service “under the trees.”

We were going to join a small band of tribal people from the area who were gathering for worship on that Wednesday evening. At the time, Andrea was instrumental in planting three small congregations. Each gathering met weekly at its own specific spot, at night and out in the open under the stars, after the day’s work was finished. When it was time, we piled into and on top of the Land Rover and set out. Our headlights were the only lights in this wilderness, where all the locals lived without electricity and running water. When we turned right off the main dirt road, we were fully off-road. Bobbing over thorn bushes and small logs, we stopped the Rover in a clearing about 30 yards in circumference. There was nothing there but dirt and sand.

Within two minutes, I heard soft snapping of twigs indicating there was movement nearby. I could still hardly see anything as my eyes were not adjusted and the surrounding trees kept most of the star light out. Suddenly and in almost perfect symphony, singing started. I pulled out my flashlight and noticed that about thirty Africans had suddenly gathered beside my team and were singing in their native language and jumping to the beat. We clapped, and I even jumped some too in the dark, where no one could see how off-rhythm I really was! After a few songs we all sat on the ground and someone from my team shared Bible stories with our brother and sisters. Andrea interpreted the story in their mother language. After praying together, we hugged in the dark and they disappeared into the trees as quietly and unassumingly as they had arrived. It was one of the most authentic worship experiences one could ever have!

Reliving that experience was one of the first things I did this week when I learned of Andrea’s recent passing from liver failure. I’ll miss his smile, his heart for evangelizing, and his camel stew, spaghetti, and homemade French fries. I’ll miss watching him sing and “bounce” before the Lord as well. I’ll remember when he took me to his house and introduced me to his family. He will be greatly missed in South Horr, Kenya, and the surrounding region. His witness for Christ will be missed and his faithful assistance to Stakwell will be dearly missed.

Despite the great loss Andrea’s passing is to the Body of Christ in this remote part of Kenya, I am confident that God will continue the transforming work He is doing there. Tribes that have had long histories of stealing from each other and fighting are now cooperating. There is also now a stronger Christian witness there, displaying a different way of living from some of the traditional cultural practices that directly violate God’s commandments. Andrea played a large role in these positive changes among the Samburu, Turkana, and Rendille tribes of that region. I trust that Andrea is enjoying his heavenly reward now and I look forward to bouncing with him again one day in eternity.

Scott Hahn | Packathon Director