Day 4 in Kenya.

Day 3 in Kibera.

Today started much the same as yesterday. We woke up, ate breakfast with the team, and headed into Kibera. Walking the same path day after day, you start to feel at home-- seeing the same children calling out to you... the same families sitting outside their huts... and the same sewage "stream" trickling (and sometimes rushing) in its winding path through the dirt. I wondered what it would be like to wake up in Kibera, to sleep on a dirt floor, to constantly be assaulted by the smells around me. The thing that really breaks my heart is the people of Kibera don't know any different. They wake up not expecting anything new from life, they don't even smell the rottenness of where they live. This, to them, is LIFE.

We sang songs again with the children and then took them to the school to do more VBS with them. It was amazing to me that many of them could recite from memory the verse from yesterday: "And Jesus said to them, 'I am the Bread of Life, he who comes to Me shall never hunger and he who believes in Me shall never thirst.'" John 6:35. The lesson we taught today was that Jesus is the only way. Our focus verse was John 14:6. I can't imagine living where they live with no hope. But the hope we have when we choose to follow Christ is undeniable-- and so awesome to grab hold of. Many of the children prayed with us yesterday and today-- to receive this hope we have. My heart was so full of joy and was so blessed to look into the eyes of these young ones-- so full of promise and HOPE. Even if we came just for this one moment in time, to give these children something tangible to hold on to, it was all worth it.

We moved on from lessons to lunch with the kids, then on to the field for one last day of fun. I sat in the grass with the little ones today (in spite of the GIANORMOUS locusts all over) and played little games with them. It was so fun to watch this little girl discover a way to have some "sunglasses"- and how cute she was walking around so proud of herself with the label of a water bottle stuck to her face. Again I am struck by the simplicity of their lives. That a water bottle label would make a fine pair of sunglasses to an imaginative little girl. I was caught up in her beautifully innocent play. After a bit, a couple of the girls and I painted kids' faces-- their joy over this simple gesture was so sweet. We held on tight to these last few hours with them, not knowing if we will ever see them again- this side of heaven. At this moment (a few weeks later as I write

this) my arms ache to hold them and my heart longs to be with them. But, instead, I pray for them daily that they would come to know that Love that is deeper and higher and far more satisfying than anything on this earth. That they will feel the arms of Jesus around them. I can rest in the knowledge that God is with them-- that His eye is even on the sparrow.

We reluctantly said goodbyes and headed back over to Andrew's clinic. The rest of the group had yet to tour the clinic and we were going to meet Andrew. We also were going to stock the shelves of the clinic with the medical supplies we had brought for him. While the group was getting a run down of the clinic's history and began their tour, Andrew told me there was a girl in labor in the back. I asked if I could help out in any way and he told me if I wanted to I could go back to assist. This is when I met Faith. Faith was a beautiful young woman-- in labor with her first baby-- all alone.. sad and scared. Faith wasn't originally from Kibera- she had met a man, they moved in together, she became pregnant, and then he abandoned her. She came home one day to changed locks and no way to contact her boyfriend (he had changed his number). She had no place to go except to Kibera. My heart ached for her... I couldn't imagine how she was feeling. I just remembered how scared I was when I had my first baby-- and I was in a beautiful hospital with many nurses and doctors helping me along- enveloped in love- held closely by my husband... and knew my family was available at any given moment if I needed them. And here she was, laboring away, all alone... in a less than ideal clinic, in the middle of Kibera. I came alongside her and held her hand. I encouraged her in love, prayed over her and with her, cried with her and carried her burden with her. I can't explain what happened in my heart just sitting with Faith. All I wanted her to know was that everything would be ok- that she is loved- that it would all be worth it when she looked into her baby's eyes. I labored with her for just over an hour and was so sad to have to leave her there alone. She ended up delivering a healthy baby boy late in the night. I don't know what will become of Faith and her sweet baby boy, but I pray for them often and pray that her heart is open to God's love for her.

I went to bed emotionally spent.... but still asking God to help me see those around me through His eyes-- and with His heart. I would do 'emotionally spent' a thousand times if it meant feeling such great love and compassion for those around me. I want to live this every day. To feel God's heart for even the most 'undesirable' among us. To minister that heart to others. That is my prayer today and every day.

Day 3 in Kenya.

Day 2 in Kibera.

You know, you'd think the second day would not be as bad... you already know what to expect- the smell, the garbage, the shocking amount of poverty. But, when you look around, it hits you. Over and over again -- so fresh- and new... like seeing it all for the very first time. Even in the midst of it-- we can't begin to wrap our minds around the condition in which they live. Today we had the rest of the team with us-- I was so thankful to have had the day before to sort of 'absorb' my surroundings before going in with the team. It really is incredible to think of so many people living in such a small area. Of course, in America, we think-- no problem-- we have high rises and tall structures that can house hundreds, if not thousands, of people all at once. There are no such buildings in Kibera. Everything is butted up next to everything else-- and what ground is not used up in living space is covered in garbage and sewage. We learned the average life expectancy within Kibera is the age 46. It made a great deal of sense, when looking around we didn't see but maybe 1 or 2 older looking people. It puts into perspective, again, how blessed we are in America. To think my life (in Kibera) is well over half done is a thought that brings about much self examination-- asking myself what I have accomplished that has amounted to anything. Walking to the "new"school to get ready for VBS, Miah asked his translator what these people think seeing us walk through Kibera-- are they thinking 'Why are YOU here?' or 'Are you just looking down your noses at us or what?'. The translator's response was not at all what Miah expected. "Oh, no." he said. "They aren't thinking that at all. When they see you walking through here, they are so thankful you took time out to just come here, to see them, and to show them they are not forgotten." They were simply moved that we took the time. That is enough to humble even the most proud spirit in any of us. And a reminder that it really is about relationship... not about how much we do or how much we feel we have accomplished. There is much in the "kingdom view" that we don't see and aren't aware of. Seeds that are planted just by being with someone-- and connecting with their spirit in a way that forever changes a person. I am sure you will hear me say many, many times over... "oh the sweet children...." and honestly, I can't help it. In all their beautiful innocence- who is fighting for them? Isn't that part of our call as the body of Christ?? To care for the orphans? I have never felt so convicted of this as I have here... in Kibera... where being an orphan is not the exception but the rule. This little one was washing his hands in the sewage running down the road. And yet, there is no one there to tell him the water is not clean and where should he wash? There is a shortage of clean water in Kibera.... the people there do the best they can with what they have, which isn't much-- especially compared to our standards. But still these children come to school (those who can) and we were fortunate enough to have the opportunity to minister to them. Today we were able to do some songs with them all together in the "baby" school then they taught us some songs in Swahili. My heart was SO ministered to watching them worship with every single fiber of their beings. All I could do was stand in wonder and try not to cry. One of the songs they sang said something like "Jesus on the throne makes everything better"-- and it is SO very true. Jesus on the throne does make everything better. Just knowing He is in control changes everything-- our circumstances seem smaller, our heartache less painful, and our joy so much deeper. Oh what lessons I have been taught again and again! My prayer is to remain teachable and to be moldable-- not that the process won't ever be without discomfort and even pain-- but to have God change your heart is an amazing thing. We did lessons with the kids... they were an absolute joy to teach and to just be with. After the lessons, we sat down and ate some lunch with them before we again took them to the field. They were so very excited to be able to play again for the afternoon. This time we rode the van to the field-- I'm still amazed at how in the world George got the van all the way into Kibera to give us a ride. I had to close my eyes when he was trying to get out-- we were pretty close to some steep edges. :) The kids were picked up and got to ride a bus to the field.... many of them had never gotten to ride a big bus like that- so the adventure was even better than they could have imagined! We played again, for a few hours and enjoyed all the time we could with the children. I even jumped in on a soccer game for a bit. They are pretty competitive and are very good at the game! I can say I kicked the ball... and tried my best-- though I'm not entirely sure I was an asset to the kids on my team! :) It was so very sweet to watch the children interact with eachother and with us. There was a little boy-- no older than 2 1/2 probably who would just walk up to me and hold my hand. Wouldn't say a word... wouldn't want to be held... just wanted to stand there and hold my hand-- and he'd stand there for as long as I was standing there-- content with that little bit of human contact. My heart (again) ached for this boy to know the love of his heavenly Father, the love that goes beyond everything we can think or imagine. And that he would know God's heart for him and how He sees him. We ended the evening with a great dinner at Java-- an amazing coffee house. It was nice to be able to unwind and talk about the day with our new friends on the team. We left for the hotel-- exhausted and thankful... with a new view of our Heavenly Father... and His love for us.