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 childr
en 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.
en 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.
. 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 th
ere 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.
ere 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.
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