Forty "Little Angels"

 

 

May 13, 2013 (Monday) Another day and another birthday!  It’s an exciting day and a very special day as “Linda’s Little Angels” will open for the first day of school.  The church we built last year will now be used during the week for three classes. The academy was named by the natives as a way of showing thanks. They wanted to give something in return but their hands were empty.  We thank all of you in the USA for giving these little ones the opportunity to go to school!  It is a dream come true.

 

 

When we arrived at the church in Taito the parents and children were already there. It was a nice morning and everyone seemed content as they visited outside with one another. News of the school opening was traveling through the village and parents continued to come.

 

We had planned for thirty children but when we were finished registering we had accepted forty and that was the max.  Most of the forty children come from Taito and the neighboring village, Maiko.  HIV is not a stranger here and it has changed the course of so many lives.  There are many widows and orphans because of it and the quiet village shame is held within so many.   Seven of the children who have registered   are orphans and six children have one deceased parent.   All the children are between the ages of three and six with the exception of two ten year olds that have never gone to school.  Financial restrictions have kept children from attending school and now the door has been opened for many to have the opportunity to learn.

Every week each child will bring two pieces of fire wood so that porridge can be made over the open fire.

Registration is a slow process and it shows on some of the children’s faces :)

 

Then there is the process of taking measurements for more uniforms and shoes.  

 

Photos of each child are taken outside for the school records and also a group picture of the first day of school 2013. Aaron, one of the fathers, thanks us over and over again.  It is a day that he thought he would never see…. his son is going to school.

 

 

My heart rejoices as I see what God is doing in the midst of the village.  Some of the widows here have nothing but love and it is love they give when they open their door to the little ones that have no place to call home.  It is a place that has suffered and mourned but a place that has a heart willing to help others.

 I Corinthians 16:14    Do everything in love.



School Items Displayed

 

 

May 11, 2013 (Saturday) We have a scheduled meeting today with the parents interested in sending their children to the school.  Many parents came to hear what was happening here in their village. It was good to see that so many families are interested.   

 

We displayed some of the books along with the uniforms, sweaters and shoes so that they would know we are prepared to open. Several school desks were delivered including a cabinet to safely store and lock away the books and valuables each night.  Plastic baby chairs were set up inside and happy little children sat quietly as we proceeded with the meeting.

 

Aggie, our teacher, lives right here in Taito and many of the parents know her and her family.The school has been set up in a way that will make it possible for parents to send their children.  The costs of other schools have made it impossible for them and their children suffer without an education.  It is a starting point and we will open our doors to children ages 3-6, which represents three classes.  We have included a couple older children that are around ten years old that have never gone to school.   

 

 

The meeting that I thought would only be about an hour long ended after five hours of intense parent interaction.  When the floor was opened for them to speak and ask questions it was silent and at first everyone feared to speak.  After encouraging them to give us positive or negative input they all became passionately involved.

 

The children at the meeting are de-wormed.  It's a treat for them as the medicine is very sweet!  The little bottles are collected and will be used in school to teach the children how to count. Nothing is wasted here!

After making some adjustments to several of the issues the school is now ready to open.   Monday morning at 8 am the church doors will swing open wide and school will begin.

 

Matthew 18:10 See that you do not despise one of these little ones. For I tell you that their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven.

 

 

"It's Broken!"

 

 

May 10, 2013 (Friday) The sound of the early morning song birds has to be the best alarm clock around. The sun shines bright as it rises over the mountain ranges and offers us a new day. 

On April 21^st, three weeks ago, I fell.  It was instant pain and swelling and I thought I had sprained my ankle. The swelling and bruising has been a constant reminder that something has been injured. 

 

Although doctor’s offices and hospitals are places I try to stay out of I realized I needed to have an   x- ray of my ankle to see why it wasn’t getting better.

The doctor’s words echoed in my ears, “It’s broken.”   Off your ankle and eight to ten weeks in a cast is not what I wanted to hear.  He continued to say “You must be one tough woman to walk around on a broken ankle for three weeks!” As he took down my information and age his head popped up fast and he looked very surprised.  You look so young!  What do you do to stay this way?

I was fortunate to have found a good doctor and he knew what needed to be done.  However, the supplies necessary to make a cast had to found first and it was up to me to find and purchase the materials.

I traveled into town and went to four different places, each shaking their head in response to my request.  After each “no” I called the doctor and he would give me the name of another place to try.

One place could order some for us but it would take at least four days for it to arrive and that was big “maybe.”   Finally, after visiting a doctor’s office on the other side of town, we had what we needed.

 

I returned to Doc Mark’s office and the cast was put on.  While the cast was being put on I shared the names of my children with the doctor and told him that my youngest child was named Mark.  He had two little girls so I was a grandmother.  His head snapped up again and said,” a grandmother?!?  You are so young looking!!!”  I wasn’t happy about having a cast put on my leg for 8 -10 weeks but after a conversation like that I felt pretty good :)

Isaiah 41:10 So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Water Damage & Mud

 

  

May 9, 2013 (Thursday) The time has come for me to leave this area and fly back to western Kenya.  The two areas are worlds of their own each one telling of a life separate and distinct.  Before I leave I return to St. Theresa’s to view the damage and speak with the sisters before leaving. 

 

 

Trees have been uprooted and the grounds are covered with thick slippery mud.  Each step I take is placed very carefully so that I can remain on my feet and not be found on the ground. The beautiful bushes and flowers that have had so much care will now have to be replanted once again. 

  

I walk to the beautiful new room that was given to me to rest in while here. 

 

The rising waters have left marks upon the walls and a thick carpet of mud upon the floor.  Each and every room is the same. 

 

It will take hours upon hours of scrubbing to remove the think mud and water stains from the outside and inside of each room. 

 

 

The grounds are still holding large puddles of water and the gardens are in ruin.

 

The flood has left it's mark and it will be remembered and talked about in the years to come. The danger of heavy rains are flash floods and many times lives are lost.

Although there is much to do and the repairs needed are great, we are thankful that this time life was spared.

I’m packed, ready to leave and sitting on a bench in the open air at the little landing strip.  I watch the skies for the plane that only comes once a day.  Sometimes it doesn’t come but today it arrives and it arrives on time.  We will be leaving the hot desert land and a people that live on in the ways of their forefathers.

There is a noticeable change in the climate as I step off the plane and walk into the building to pick up my suitcase.  The clouds above are dark and speak of pending rain.  There is a welcomed refreshing coolness that I have not felt for some time and it energizes by body for the remainder of the trip.

I have two more hours of travel by rode before I can rest for the night.  Driving  here at night is the worst as you never know if someone is riding a bike in front of you or if there is a massive pot hole or if there is a cow in the road!  It could be all three!   I have a driver that I know and feel safe with. As we ride I share the experiences of my trip with him.  I tell him about the flood waters and of stepping into a “sinkhole or swallow hole."   He shares with me how they fear such things because of the soil here.  Then he pauses and says, “God must like you or today we would be saying Linda is dead.”   He knew that is was God that kept me and protected me.

The journey to another land is over.  The land around me now is green and producing good crops. The soil is red and rich and the night is air cool. The cool mountain air of the night is perfect sleeping weather!  So much has changed but the multitude of stars that fill the sky above are the same, they have not changed.  Their brightness shines and speaks to me of a great and mighty God.

Psalm 19:1-4 The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they reveal knowledge. They have no speech, they use no words; no sound is heard from them. Yet their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world.

 

Swollen Bellies

 

 

May 8, 2013 (Wednesday) Even with a fan beside the bed the temperature didn’t change last night.  It was a night of longing for morning.  There isn’t any hot water running from any faucet around only cold but that doesn’t matter. The days and nights are so hot that warm water flows out of the cold water faucet. 

This is one of the buggiest places I’ve ever been in.  The temperature seems to attract them.  At night when we sit for dinner the lights are turned off and a flash light is set in the middle of the table. Some might think it to be romantic but actually it is to keep the bugs away from our food while we eat.  It is so dark we can hardly tell what is being served. Before we put food on our dish we have to shake the bugs off first and there are many. 

So many people left St. Theresa’s yesterday with just the clothes on their back.  They didn’t have time to prepare to leave.  My things were packed and ready so when I left I had my things with me.  We are hearing that some have taken advantage of the situation and looting has taken place.  Some have lost computers, cameras and various other things. We are still not allowed back in but have been told that the water level is dropping.

 

The sun beats down on us as the motorbike rolls through the sandy soil of the desert to a village on the other side of town.   We enter a small grass hut church for a special service and to give out some food.  As we sing the women take turns beating the drum. A Turkana woman with beads from her shoulders to her chin has one whistle which she blows over and over again.  She is making a joyful noise!

 

Many remember me from past visits.  The children gather near the front and watch my every move.  A quick smile is all they need and a chorus of little giggles is heard.

 

There are many that are sick and in need of prayer.  Each one is prayed for as the others continue to sing.

We have come to help them and encourage them as they face so many daily struggles and hardships.  Little ones with swollen bellies are given medicine to deworm them.  Adults are eager to take some as well.  This little medicine bottle is something that they could not afford. It is a struggle just to have enough food for one meal a day.

 

They gather at the entrance way and one by one they stand with their bag or container to receive some maize before they leave for their journey home.  They will not forget that someone in America thought of them and loved them enough to care about their pain and suffering. Thank you!

Isaiah 58:10, 11 and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noon day. The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail.

Flash Flood, Sinkhole, Police Evacuation

 

May 7, 2013 (Tuesday) It was a night of thunder, lightning and heavy rain.  It seemed that the storm was right above us.  I’m sure it must have woken everyone around.  It poured and poured throughout the night.  When I woke the stillness was alive with the happy noises of frogs.  I thought for sure the rains had brought the tree frogs together in song.  It was an amazing and delightful sound and I gathered my video camera to capture this special moment in a faraway land.  As I looked out over the land I thought my early morning eyes were playing tricks on me.  The garden area owned by the diocese but given to the Turkana to grow vegetables in looked like a river!  They worked this land daily and the land was producing a good crop for them.  It is valuable land as soil around us will not produce any food.

 

 

I looked again and realized what I was seeing was truly water, a river of water.  It was early and as I walked closer I could see that this water was moving fast and it was making its way into the compound.  The birds were arriving in flocks and the garden area was now turning into a bird sanctuary.

The Sisters joined me as we looked over the situation.  One of the helpers was brave enough to walk out into the water covering the garden.  It was now up to his chest.  Had the water peaked or will it continue to flow toward our rooms?  Last night’s rain was intense not only for us but also in the Uganda Mountains and we were recipients of that water that was rolling down from the mountains at a rapid pace.  The Turkwell River that can’t be seen from here but is still considered close by has expanded and is overflowing. 

In a very short time the water comes rushing into the compound grounds.  It rises and enters my room.   My things are prepared and the mattress and bedding have been put on top of the mosquito net frame.  I’ve stacked some furniture and tied the curtains up high.

The men come to help me gather my things and walk me out.  The water now up to my knees is diseased water as the river is very dirty and risky to enter.  Not only does one worry about the diseases but the possibility of poisonous snakes being in the flood waters is very high.

 

 

I’m told to follow them as they walk a few steps ahead of me.  I’m walking on solid ground and can feel the dirty, muddy water rushing by my legs.  Suddenly my body drops down into the ground.  There is no bottom for me to place my feet on.  There is nothing but soupy mud around me and my legs are within the earth.  I try to move to help myself get out but I start to sink deeper.  I am completely helpless.  The men quickly came to my rescue.  I was reaching my hand out toward them as far I could.  If they came too close they could also fall into this “sinkhole or swallow hole.”   They grabbed my hands and the two of them pulled with all their might.  It was like the earth had me and didn’t want to let me go.  I would never have gotten out if it were not for these two men.  I could not help myself.

Muddy and very wet we continued our walk out. Once they got me out of the sinkhole they never let go of me until I was safely at the main reception area.

The floor of the main entrance area sits a little higher and was dry at the time however to my amazement I could see the situation was much worse than I had thought.  The river had completely surrounded us.  It was not just in front of my room but we had water all around us and it was getting higher.

 

The police soon arrived in their trucks and started to remove us from St. Theresa’s.  Their loud authoritative voices were heard as many crawled into the back of their trucks.  “You want to die?  Don’t you care about your life? Get into the truck now

 

With very little communication and not knowing where they were taking us we left St. Theresa’s behind.  We drove past the gate and out the long driveway covered in water.  At the water’s edge were mobs of people standing and watching everything unfold.

We were taken to the other side of town to a place called Bethany.  Bethany is also owed by the Diocese of Lodwar.  It is one of the first places they built when they arrived here.  It sits high and there is no need to worry about flooding here.  

We wait and wonder what is happening at St Theresa’s.  We hear reports that the water is still rising. It is now waist deep and has entered every room.  It is evident that we need another place to sleep for the night.  Some people decided to call it quits and left the area early.   Others have found places to sleep in the center of town.  There are many of us, IDPs, needing a place to sleep.  One of the Sisters opened a door to a room and started to apologize.  She was sorry that this was all that she had and that it wasn’t nicer.  I didn’t have any complaints; I was so happy and thankful just to have a bed! 

Experiencing a flash flood, stepping into a sinkhole and being evacuated by the police doesn’t happen every day and that's a good thing!  One thing I know for sure is that I have a friend that protects me and surrounds me with his love each and every day.  His name is Jesus. 

Psalm 17:8 Keep me as the apple of your eye; hide me in the shadow of your wings...

 

Hardship & Hunger

 

May 6, 2013 (Monday) Today’s journey takes us away from the trading stores, away from electricity and out into an areas without roads.  Almost 2,000 pounds of maize has been purchased along with bags of salt and cooking fat. A truck in good condition and capable of handling the terrain ahead of us has been hired and loaded.  We have a spare tire and the truck is full of fuel.  Everyone has bottled water and we are on our way.  We are headed into the interior parts of the hot desert land.  The desert thorn bushes show some green as the rains have fallen days before. 

 

Herds of goats roam freely and camels become a common sight as we travel deeper in. The mountain ranges that separate us from Uganda are ahead and those that separate us from Sudan are to the side of us.  The mountain ranges are beautiful and the blue sky before us is filled with huge white clouds. There are huts along the way and we wave to the people as we pass by. Those working outside stop and stand and with big smiles they watch us drive by.

We drive through large dry river beds that at one time held some fast moving water. The banks have washed away and a large amount of soil along the river’s edge has disappeared.

 

Huts are evidence that life is close by and as we drive up onto a mound of white sand we see many.  We have arrived at our destination.  In the midst of the huts sits a little church and it is alive with people. 

Life is hard here and the heat is extreme night and day. Generations before them cared for their herds on this land and they will not leave.  It is their land passed down from generation to generation. 

The elder Mama stands to greet me.  They have prayed for me and inform me that since we met last not one woman has died.  They know that they will never travel to America but ask me to take their thanks back with me.

 

In extreme heat they jump and dance the Turkana way.  The oldest leads the way to the center of the dirt floor and with all of her heart she praises God in dance and song.  Little ones sit in the front and watch the many feet move in the desert sand.   The drum with goat hide stretched across the top gives the energized beat to follow and more join in this time of celebration.

  

After a time of sharing the Word we close in prayer and move outside.  It is time to encourage those in the area with maize, cooking fat and salt.  They bring their used plastic bags, a box, or a container some will use the cloth that wraps their body and they wait in line for their portion of food.  My eyes take note of the suffering around me and their actions express their great need.  Each piece of corn that falls to the ground is quickly gathered, not one piece gets left behind.  How many days have they gone without? How many hungry children have cried themselves to sleep? 

  

Their bodies show the signs of lack and of hardship.  They are miles from the trading stores and the earth does not produce food to sustain them.  Yet they continue on not knowing any other way, not knowing any other life and thinking that at home I milk camels too!

It is time to say goodbye and travel back.  The men sit quietly together under a large thorn bush.  Their small handmade wood stools are the only comfort they have.  One of the elder men stands and approaches me.  He says he has watched me since I arrived. He has heard me share the scriptures and he has seen me give out food.  He has noticed that I have worked since I arrived and not rested.  Then he pauses and says…..we have nothing to give you to show our thanks.   I informed him that he did, I was taking his love and his blessing home with me.

 

Before the day was over we had delivered food to three different areas.   Many had been encouraged and tonight they will not go to bed hungry. 

 

Matthew 25:35-40  “ For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me."

Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in or needing clothes and clothe you?  When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?” 

The King will reply, “Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.”

 

Spitting Cobra Strikes

 

May 5, 2013 (Sunday) The hot rays of the African sun beat down on us as we rode through the dry desert soil. The rains are here but I have not seen them since I arrived.  When the rains come the green spindles of fragile grass pop up through the white sand.  For months they hide themselves beneath the dry earth and somehow survive the months of drought.

Little half-clad children holler from the sides of the path “Mazungu” or “White Woman” it is a word used throughout Kenya for white visitors but I have heard it so often I claim it as my own. Little bare feet run quickly over the hot burning sand as they don’t want to miss the “Mazungu” as she rides by.

The sky is deep blue and the white billowy clouds decorate the heavens above.  The land is covered with huts made of the earth and thatched roof coverings.  The cloth that wraps their bodies stands out so beautifully against the earth tones that surrounds us.

Life is desperately hard each and every day in the land of the Turkana.  It has been their land for generations and they live here with pride as they continue living in the ways of their forefathers.  Turkana are herdsmen and roam the land looking for water and food for their animals.  A man can have many wives, that is, as many as he can afford to buy.  The price of their young brides will differ depending on the clan they come from and the price her parents insist on.  The bride price is usually a certain number of goats, cows and even camels.

One pastor that I work with here in Turkana land cannot marry the woman he lives with because he has not paid her parents the 60 goats they agreed on.  In such cases, and there are many, the children from such arrangements do not belong to the father but to the wife’s parents.

When we arrive at church it is already in session but the little ones come running out of the door and gather around and just stare.  It is such an important day to have someone from America visit with them. The cross that my husband, Manley, placed on top of the church still stands strong and there is no doubt in anyone’s mind that this is a place of worship.

One drum is used during worship and there is dancing as they praise God.  Even though we have a covering over us the heat increases as the service continues. Pellets of water pour from my body even when I’m sitting still!  It is a “hot” land. 

One of the elder mama’s, with her neck covered in beads and her head shaved, comes to the front to greet me in the Turkana way.  We shake hands as we bend our opposite shoulders toward each other until they touch, then we turn and repeat with the other shoulder.  It is expressing love one to the other as each shoulder turns inward toward the other person.  In the Turkana way she is telling me that she loves me and by doing the same I return my love to her.  This woman has not forgotten me from my past visits and though our languages are different I understand and receive her message of love.

I encourage interaction as I speak and I can see their eyes lighting up with happiness as we talk about God’s Word.  It doesn’t matter that the sun is high above us and the land burns from the midday sun they are like sponges and cling to every word.

 

Pastor Florence lives in the interior parts of Turkana land in the upper corner near the Uganda mountains. She woke early one morning and sensed that something was wrong. She began to look around her but everything look to be alright.  As she went outside she noticed how something had moved the soil and its trail went into the place where she slept.  She knew these markings well and she was aware of the danger nearby.  This trail in the sand was made by a snake.

She went back into her hut and carefully looked around one more time.  This time the 40” spitting cobra was coiled and  its head was standing upright waiting for her. When she moved a box he spit and hit her in the eye. She immediately saw a change in her eyesight.  With intense pain she called for help.  Everyone feared that the snake would strike again and ran away from her.  She had her daughter boil water and the hot boiling water was thrown on the snake.  When the others saw that the snake was down they came to help. They came with rocks, machetes and clubs and killed the poisonous cobra. 

They called someone in town, an hours ride away, to come and get her. When they arrived to pick her up she was totally blind.  By the time she arrived at the hospital in Lodwar over 2 hours had passed, her eyes had turned green and the venom had started eat away small areas of the eye.  The pain was intense and they did their best to treat her.  She stayed in the center of Lodwar for several days and a friend cared for her but she did not get better.  She was then flown to another hospital in Eldoret and treated.

She thanks the Lord for his greatness and for his hand upon her life.  She now sees clearly out of both eyes.  Once completely blind but now she sees!

It was a good day.  I enjoyed returning to the church we built here in the Lodwar area.  They are stronger now and more determined to minister to those around them.  Their growth and progress is visible. They have blessed the pastor with a mud hut home next to the church.  A Sunday School room is being built on one side of the church for the many children in the area. It is being built the Turkana way out of dried Desert Palm branches and will provide shade for them as they sing and study God’s word.

 

At the end of the day the shade trees of St. Theresa’s welcome me.  The heat is still felt but even a couple degrees drop in temperature is a blessing.  I’m not the only one that likes the shade trees. The branches move above me as the monkeys run and jump throughout the trees that surround me.

I Timothy 4:13 Until I come devote yourselves to the public reading of Scripture, to preaching and to teaching.