Written By: Sarah Aebi
“David! Don’t forget to tell her about the location!” BJ reminded her husband. I was helping BJ and her 40-week pregnant daughter, Chulu, buckle into their seats in the back of the Cessna 206. I was flying BJ and Chulu to Tenwek Hospital some 400 miles away in south-eastern Kenya, where Chulu’s baby would be delivered.
Just as I was ready to start the engine, David approached me with an expectant expression on his face.
“Our milk camels were stolen a month ago. It’s the fourth time they’ve been stolen this year, but we haven’t been able to find them this time. We’ve been told they might be in this area.”
He pointed out a crater that would only take us a couple of miles off course. “Could you fly over it to see if we can find them?” The likelihood of spotting their camels missing now for a month seemed slim, but the location David pointed out wasn’t far off so I was willing to try.
A few minutes later we were in the air and headed to Tenwek hospital. It was nearing noon and the warm air had already made the flight bumpy. I flew lower and slower than normal for the first several miles to see if we could find any sign of the missing camels. Passing the crater ten minutes later, we hadn’t seen any animals at all, much less a herd of twenty camels. I was just about to give up the search and climb to normal cruising altitude when BJ yelled and excitedly pointed out the window – there, just a few miles to our right was a group of about twenty camels, easy to spot from where we were, 1000 feet above them. I quickly jotted down the coordinates, circled overhead so BJ could get a closer look and snap a photo, and then continued on our way.
BJ’s words thrummed with hope as she explained to me the significance these camels had to her family – they were their first link to ministry in Kenya, their first connection to the Gabbra people in Northern Kenya.
BJ and David both grew up as missionary kids in Africa and have been missionaries in Northern Kenya for more than thirty years. In their early days in Kenya, David and BJ knew they needed something to connect them with the Gabbra people and a way to serve them. So, like their neighbors, they began raising camels. The learning curve was steep in the early days, but as a veterinarian, BJ went beyond raising their own camels to helping care for the health of the livestock of the community in which they served. Their ministry was born.
From raising and caring for camels, BJ and David’s ministry continued to evolve until the whole family began living with a nomadic tribe, spending most nights under the stars. Their goal was simple: to find ways to help nomadic people follow Jesus. In past years, nomadic tribes had often been told that they could not continue with that lifestyle when they became Christians because they needed to be involved in a local church. David and BJ, however, didn’t believe that and set out both to learn for themselves and to teach the tribe how they can continue to follow Jesus while maintaining their nomadic lifestyle.
After three hours of picking my way around mountains, clouds, and rainstorms, we finally made it to our destination where the hospital staff was already waiting for us. I unloaded the airplane and waved goodbye as BJ and Chulu climbed into the waiting vehicle before starting for the last leg home.
The next morning, I received news from BJ that Chulu had given birth to a son, and his name was Gabriel! What a joy and honor it is to serve missionary families like David and BJ’s and especially, to have the opportunity to play a role, even in this unique way, in this sweet baby’s safe and healthy delivery.
Credits:
Sarah Aebi