On March 4th, Kenyans go to the polls to elect a new president among many other posts. Five years ago the same elections led to riots, chaos, violence, and the death of hundreds. Those wounds have not completely healed, and now Kenya is poised at a crossroads once again. One path leads to a better future. And another to a bitter past. Pray for peace.

What struck me from my interactions with those who shared their stories was how AIDS, once the politics and economics and demographics are stripped away, is always about a person simply longing for transformation: From sick to well. From outcast to loved. From hopeless to hopeful…

We rolled up the legs on our trousers and jumped into the wild, warm surf as our little speedboat tugged against its anchor in the rising tide. Before us was a mesmerizingly beautiful beach, drawing, it seemed, all things toward itself. As our team waded through the water with baggage and provisions atop our heads, stumbling in the thick, powdery sand, we felt like explorers in a new land.

January 1st, my birthday. In the cool, dark, early morning hours of the new year, I stood in my backyard with a good friend and turned a telescope toward the eastern sky. Saturn was rising, a bright dot in the arc of the ecliptic, preceding the sun by only a couple of hours. Ted and(…)

(I recently returned from a 12-day trip to Madagascar with our media crew. View Photos for this Travelog here.) Madagascar is sometimes called the “Eighth Continent” for its unique diversity of people, plants, and animals. Indeed, it was the most “out of Africa” I have felt in Africa. We landed in the capital city, Antananarivo,(…)

Leaving Rockford Illinois on the way through Normal and then on to friends in Indianapolis, I began to reflect on all the places we’ve seen in recent weeks and months. From Kenya to France to a place that feels a little like home in New Jersey. We packed the little white Volkswagon to the gills(…)

It is possible that I had something of an idyllic childhood. I grew up mostly in the 80’s, a full fledged suburban kid – not too spoiled or privileged, but not missing out on anything that really mattered. Most importantly, I had a “whole” family with a stay-at-home mom and a responsible dad. And on(…)

(Below is an article I wrote for AIM’s magazine. Over the years, I had the privilege of flying the Nobles around southern Sudan as they skirted conflicts and flooded roads to teach in some of the country’s most remote places. In January, I spent a weekend with them in Torit to learn a little more(…)

I woke ridiculously early yesterday morning to catch the red-eye out of Rwanda. After checking in, I sat in a passenger lounge and caught a half hour of CNN through bleary eyes. Sudan was in the headlines. On Sunday, South Sudan began a week long voting process on what is surely the most important vote(…)

Looking down while the earth rolls past in the mesmerizing arc of a level steep turn, I grip the bottom of my seat, lean into the five-point harness, and grin. I catch a glimpse of our shadow on the earth below. It’s moving fast across a field and a dirt road, that unmistakable silhouette of an aircraft.

Some seven hours later, after exhausting our search for a chopper, after launching two airplanes and one doctor, after landing a 206 on a bit of dirt road in the desert, after a hundred phone calls, some pretty hard decisions, and all the emotional energy I could muster, Susan was safe.

The problem was not so much the plough however. The problem lay deeper than any curl of steel could cut in a field. Deeper than the gullies swallowing up the fertile soil. Deeper even than the sorrow of the Basotho who have summarily declared themselves “cursed”. The problem lay in the hearts of the people.

Richard’s face is almost entirely, almost always, a mixture of joy and burden. His eyes are wise and reserved beneath an unwieldy tussle of graying eyebrow. His smile sometimes comes with a coordinated squint and a mild shake of the head—communicating both delight and some deeper thought no matter how small the conversation. Richard often(…)

Frank’s steady hand on the yoke of an airplane was but an extension of his heart. And his steadfast determination to follow his calling is what brought he and his family to AIM AIR. And to the far corners of Africa.

Time’s arrow points firmly forward, whether we recognize it or not. Our lives are fragile. Our days are numbered. And there is never enough time to do enough good with the days we have. Chances are, our last day will be a day very much like this one, and it will catch us by surprise.