Rocky Top-Kenyan Style

Over the next few days I'll be posting a variety of pictures, thoughts, and videos from my summer in Kenya...this is the first of these posts.

Every week, it seems, I see something about Tim Tebow doing a form of mission work overseas. I think it's great, and I applaud him honoring God with his fame. He just makes one mistake...Tim teaches all these kids that ridiculous Gator backwards clap...such a shame! Now there are all these kids who have learned the wrong way to clap and will certainly be mocked if they should ever travel abroad!

To combat this internationally, I decided to teach my standard 5 class how to sing "Rocky Top." Bringing a little extra culture to the nations right? I couldn't resist.

I made this with the intention that it would be just for Chris...I'm sad that he never did...somewhere he's smiling about it...

Chris is home

In case you've not already heard...


Thursday evening about 6:00 PM, Chris passed away.

I was on the road, headed from Kingsport to Knoxville in a rush. Emily had called me just before, saying to get there as soon as possible...Chris didn't have much longer.



As we reached I-40 the phone rang and I knew immediately...Sue, Chris's mom simply said "Matt, he's gone."



Losing him isn't easy...it's not easy for any of us here...especially for Emily. But I can honestly say that I'm at peace because he's not suffering.



Chris had two homes...Kingsport and Maryville, so we'll have services in both places



The first will be in at First Christian Church in Kingsport on Monday the 10th. Visitation will be from 6-7 with the service following.

In Maryville, we'll be at Madison Avenue Baptist Church on Saturday the 15th at 3:30 in the afternoon.

In my previous post, you read of God speaking to me through the song "Fix You." In the moment my phone rang with the news awaiting, we were listening to that very song in the car. I don't know how much clearer God could be...He fixed Chris.

What I never wanted to write- update on Chris

This is an update on my best friend Chris Morgan...an update I never wanted to write.

About a year ago, Chris began his fight with brain cancer. Encouraged by the support of his family and myriad of loving friends, and strengthened by his unwavering faith in Jesus, Chris battled with titanic courage. Despite setbacks and struggles, Chris continued to fight. Before his third operation he was confronted with the fact that the procedure could render his left side motionless. Chris didn't care. He kept on...all with a positive attitude.

Three brain operations in one year has just been too much for his body to endure. My heart breaks to write this, but the time has come. He's not responding to treatment and his body is spent. Now it's time for him to be comfortable, to rest, and to go home. The doctors estimate now that it will be a matter of days.

The news is devastating for Emily, for Gracie, his baby girl, for his family, and for the rest of us. We want him here...we don't know how to handle what comes next. And on our own, we can't.

My heart breaks for Emily and Gracie and his family...and he's always been beyond a friend to me...he's a true brother...so my heart also breaks for me.

I have no profound or insightful take on this...my heart just hurts. So let me tell you of a moment when God spoke to me about Chris...

Back in December, Chris had his second operation, and I was afraid then that we were going to lose him. I caught a flight to Knoxville to be by his side and as my the plane was landing, God had something to say to me.

I fell asleep listening to my ipod, thus not turning it off as the plane landed. The wheels hit the runway and I awakened to the sound of "Fix You" by Coldplay playing through my headphones. My stomach then sunk with the reality of the situation...my best friend's life was on the line. As the song continued I heard:

"High up above or down below, when you're too in love to let it go"

And I thought, yea...I'm not willing to let him go...and neither is anyone else. He deserves to be here...his wife needs him, his baby girl needs him, we all need him.

It continues:

"And I will try, to fix you."

Then I kept saying to God, "Fix him...fix him!! Fix his body! I know that doctors can't, God but you can fix him! Please Lord...fix my friend."

The lyrics progressed:

"Tears stream, down your face, when you lose something you cannot replace."

I said to God "He's not replaceable...don't take him. He cannot be replaced."

And then the conclusion of the song:

"Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones, and I will try to fix you."

At that point, God said to me: "Matt, I've already fixed him."

He's right. Jesus already fixed him. Chris is ok. He was fixed the day that he gave his life to Christ...he's been fixed ever since. His body was broken then and is more broken now...but so is your body and mine...we're all broken.

In the end those bodies don't matter...the Father of lights will guide him home.

God gave me that solace in December, and 8 months later as he's on the cusp of seeing that glorious home...it remains.

I'm not used to this...I'm used to being on the other end...listening to someone share of a loss, my heart breaking for them and feeling useless and helpless-both are difficult. So in reading this, you may feel the same way. But you can help. Here's what you can do.

1. Pray for Emily, Grace, and his family.

2. Send Emily letters of love and encouragement and share stories and memories of Chris with her. To do so, write on the guestbook at his caringbridge page at: http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/chrismorgan

3. In lieu of flowers, send a contribution. For information on how to do so, contact me.

To conclude, paul said it well:

Now we see things imperfectly as in a cloudy mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely. 1 Corinthians 13:12

Car Shopping... the Glorious Injustice

I'm a car guy...have been for as long as I could be called a guy and not a boy. I come by it honestly, my dad has always had cool cars...none of them were expensive, just cool. So from childhood I always appreciated a good car...one that stands out among the drudgery of Chevy Cavaliers, Ford Tauruses, Toyota Camrys, and Honda Civics overwhelming the road.

So now, here I am 25 years old, and need a car. My old car (a sort of cool 97 Saab 900s) bit the dust in April and I sold it in May. Understanding that I have a limited budget ($4500 max), and need something both economical and reliable, I've prepared myself to cross the line between cool car (something European/rare) and mundane. I've even accepted the idea that I could be driving an American car, which I usually find to be entirely inferior to their Japanese and European counterparts.

With those things in mind I set off today, feeling like I'd find a gem.

My optimism was soon quelled...

A local dealer had a 1997 Nissan Maxima for sale. It was loaded up, in great shape, and 100,000 miles. Mildly cool car, but still bland. Even so, bland often equals reliable so I felt good about finding something mildly cool (not to mention it had leather seats and all the bells and whistles that my Saabs have had).

I'm no dummy...I came in armed with the knowledge that the value of this car, even in it's exquisite condition is $4000. Considering that I'm a wheeler and dealer and a generally likable guy, I figured $3500.

Now for the gory details...
The salesman and I were walking to the car and the following transaction took place:

Salesman: Matt, what are you looking to spend
Me: Under 5k
Salesman: *Silence* Well, um, we should probably not even look at this car
Me: *confused* Huh?
Salesman: The price is $8700 but our Internet price is $7900
Me: What? Really? This is a $4000 car! (I was a little off...but not much)
Salesman: Yes, but it's really nice.
Me: *half confused half incredulous* I know you're not the sales manager, but why is it so much?
Salesman: Where else are you going to find a 97 Maxima with only 100,000 miles?
Me: It's 12 years old! I can find a 12 year old car with 100,000 miles anywhere
Salesman: Yea but it's really nice.
Me: Goodness..you're asking almost 9 grand! Your competitor down the road has a 2000 Saab 9-3 Viggen for 9 grand.
Salesman: What's that?
Me: *shaking my head* A souped up Saab...very rare car...new it was over $40k. (not to mention it's definitely cool)
Salesman: *blank stare*
Me: Nevermind...you're asking double it's value.
Salesman: But it's really nice.

I was dumbfounded. The sad thing is, some poor sap who doesn't know better will go in and pay 7 grand for that car. He'll be surprised by the clean leather, responsive engine, and various features and make a terrible financial decision.

For the next several hours, I scoured the town for the perfect ride. Unfortunately, the only cars in my price range fell into one of these categories:

Has Beens: cars that were once nice, but were maintained by either vikings or bears
Trash: cars that were never good...the day they left the factory they were as quality as a week old gas station cheeseburger
Beaters: ripped seats, no a/c, and a slipping transmission. "Honest Bill" says it was owned by his late grandmother

I feel simultaneously rich and utterly broke with my $3500

So the search continues. I'm stubborn. Really stubborn. I won't be ripped off and I still want to toe the line between responsible purchase and cool car.

I could get a Land Rover Discovery...which is about an 8 on the cool chart. But considering their terrible reliability record and ghastly 16 mpg, it's about a 1 on the responsibility chart.

I could get a Ford Taurus...as cool as Rick Astley...as responsible as Aunt Bea

Anyway...for all of you who have fought and lost...that have succumbed to the agony of car shopping and relented to paying for rust proofing...that have driven off in a car you liked for 2 weeks...I'm gonna win one for us all.

Back in the US

Jambosana rafiki! (hello friends) After two months in Kenya, I've safely returned to the US. My time in Kenya was remarkable...affirming and encouraging. Thanks to all who prayed for our team this summer, we were blessed with safety and provision throughout. Anytime a man leads a team of 3 girls, extra prayer is needed for all parties...turns out boys and girls are different! Our team functioned wonderfully...the ladies had terrific attitudes and made my job an easy one. I was blessed to have the privilege of leading them.


Over the next few days, I'll be posting about a variety of topics regarding summer 2009. I have a ton of things to share and I can't fit them into one blog. Instead, I'd like your help! If you have a question (specific or general) or topic (specific or broad) that you'd like to hear about, please email me (mhickman@nmsi.org) or contact me any other way. These can be serious, completely absurd, or anywhere in between (for example: I'd be glad to discuss the generosity of the Maasai, the beauty of the scenery, or the fun I had watching chickens & donkeys). I intend to write 10 posts about this summer, so please send the ideas/questions/requests in. Thanks in advance!





For now, here are a couple of pictures from the summer to whet your appetite for Kenya stories...

Vintage Land Rovers and ipods

Today I feel old...not because my knees creak a little more than they used to, not because my clean shaven face reveals a wrinkle or two, not because I now reflect on the proverbial "good ole days," and not because I now check the 25-39 demographic box. But for a moment today, I've identified with things of the past...a time before I was born, void of ESPN and long before Facebook. For a considerable amount of time today, I drove our group around in a 1965 Land Rover, a vehicle built like a fort with the amenities of a tricycle. No power steering, no power brakes, no working telemetry, and a whopping 80 horsepower at my disposal to propel the behemoth over roads that even the Lonely Planet Guide to Kenya describes as "detestable." Strangely, I enjoyed the adventure thoroughly. As other scurried around in town in modern Toyotas and newer buses and compact cars, I reveled in my ability to maneuver such a vehicle in forward and backward in tight spaces. Aside from the continuous "atta boys" in my head, I felt a sense of accomplishment for merely driving. This was merely transportation...driving from point a to point b, not the luxury it has been for me in the past with a sunroof, Sirius radio, cruise control, A/C and 80 mph speeds. This 1965 Land Rover on unpaved roads was hardly luxury...it required full attention, 4WD, and some creativity. It all fit.

Hours later, I relaxed for the day and listened to my ipod (perhaps the mascot of the 2000s) and turned it on shuffle. A mix of artists began...first Coldplay, the Fray, and Matchbox 20, and then James Taylor, Jackson Browne, and the Beatles. Though I'm a huge fan of Coldplay, I related more to the youthful (when written) musings of Taylor, Browne, and the Fab 4. Browne didn't know how he ended up where he was in life, Taylor missed an old friend, and the Beatles bemoaned the futility of money. Sitting on a musty couch in Africa after just reading a letter from my mom summed up my life much better than any of the newer artists. Maybe I was born at the wrong time? Given to the wrong ear? Perhaps. Maybe I just like old cars and old music. Either way, today, 1965 feels like part of my past and the 2010s seem no nearer than a colony om Mars.

Initial thoughts from Kenya

A full week has passed since we arrived in Kenya. The beauty of this place is as I remember...sweeping plains, distant mountains, dusty-pitted roads all dotted with exotic wildlife. I've been staying in a wooden shack with a concrete floor...simple for sure, but the view is breathtaking. A green plain slowly descends for several kilometers until it turns into a small valley, where it then gently ascends to the feet of sloping mountains. Along the way, shrubs, trees, and the occasional herd of cattle join the landscape.

We're in the village of Morloo, and the people here have been amazingly hospitable- offering their chai and their thanks at every opportunity...we're so blessed to be here.

Even so, much of the magic of the place has departed for me. Before, on my first visit, all these things were mysterious and romantic. Now, I'm just...here. Over the past three years it seems that Kenya, at least this part of it, has not really changed...I sure have.

And it's all ok...I'm happy to be here...and thankful to know that I was supposed to go here three years go, and that I'm supposed to be here now...but wasn't supposed to move here. Confirmation is freedom from wondering "what if?"