Beautiful Sarah

Friday, February 5, 2016 The birds stand watch for the first glimpse of light to break through the night skies.  Their sweet song comes alive as the sun shows itself bigger and brighter. They are always on time, not a minute late, and become the morning’s alarm.

The morning started with a round of welcoming hugs and sounds of surprise as I was greeted by those in the reception office and by some of the workers.  Between the hugs I heard; “You’ve been gone long.”  “You went far!”  Yet in some strange way it feels like I never left.

The Immigration Office was not the place of choice to visit today but it was a must. I didn’t have to travel alone though as the pastor from the slums came with me.  

 

The traffic consumed the streets and my driver uses some of the side roads to avoid being stopped in a traffic jam.  The little shanty type businesses line the corners of the roads.  There are bananas, tomatoes, pineapples, mangoes, and all kinds of various fruits and vegetables.  Grilled corn on the cob is being cook over a little charcoal burner that sits on the ground.  It is a quick lunch for those walking by.  The roadways are busy with cars swerving to this side and that to avoid a pothole, a motorbike or a pedestrian that dares to run through the maze of tangled traffic.  The traffic light turns red but it means nothing and car after car struggles to push forward.  Matatus (transportation vans) quickly load and bully their way into traffic as if no one else is around. The system is chaotic and the black fumes of all kinds of assorted vehicles fill the air.

The sun is bright and the heat of the day makes my body long for sleep but I know that one nap can prolong the time adjustment that must come!

Saturday, February 6, 2016  As we enter the slums eyes from every side fall on me. Their uneasy glare speaks of troubled souls waiting for night to fall.  The surroundings look like time has stood still but it is evident that life has continued on.  More people fill the roadway, many of which have no place to go.  They are “idle,” without jobs, without money and without hope that tomorrow will be any different than the life they see before them.

The main road is lined with household goods of all kinds. There are carts full of bananas, potatoes, tomatoes and various fruits and vegetables. There are little glassed in carts that are roasting sausages. Cow intestines and chicken feet are being grilled over charcoal.  It is an open mall of sorts where you can find just about anything you need but be ready to dicker as it is expected and the price automatically goes up when your white.  In the midst of all of the street vendors and markets loud music blares from a shop or two in hopes that they can gain your attention and your business.   

Raw sewage is evident and flows through the land.  Piles of garbage are burning and the smoke adds to already polluted air. Wild dogs sleep the day away. Their skeleton frame body is too weak to fight the heat of the day. People line up with their yellow plastic jerry cans to buy “clean” water something that many cannot afford.  Sadly the water sold is very often not clean and makes them ill.

As we venture off the main road and go into the inner parts of the slums the crowds lessen although  they still remain busy with people coming and going.  Today has been set aside for house visits and the word is spreading, “she is back!”

The small wooden bridge takes us safely from one side of the running raw sewage to the other.  We enter through a short door to rows of homes made of iron sheets. With a tight squeeze and with no room to walk each home is big enough for one bed, a coffee table and a couple chairs.  The home is approximately 10 x 10 and while sitting on the bed one eats from the coffee table.  There is a small area at the foot of the bed where a jiko (small portable cooking stove) sits on the floor.  Charcoal, wood pieces and sometimes animal dung is used to produce heat for cooking and also to give them warmth.  Every inch of the room is used.  

The women have been busy washing their clothes and the narrow path between the rows of attached houses becomes a never ending clothes line.  The clothes are wet and dripping and even though we do our best to dodge the drips it proves to be an impossible task.

With hearts full of pain and suffering their door swings open wide and we are welcomed in. With great smiles upon their faces they rush to boil water for tea, or prepare something to eat.  They have so little but are so eager and willing to give.  Often times the chairs we sit are without the cushioned seat but it is the best, the very best they can offer.

  

Part of a lacy curtain hangs from the door way allowing the air to circulate. It becomes the screen door and slows down the ever growing population of flies from entering.  Little children peer through the cloth in amazement. They stand together and the group grows as they yell for for their friends to come.

We visit one home after the other praying for the sick, the jobless, for those that have family members missing and don’t know how to find them and numerous other needs.   Along the way we meet little baby girls that have been given my name.  Some of them I’m meeting for the first time others are growing and about to enter their teenage years.  Here in the slums I'm called “Pastor Joy,” which is my middle name and a name which is becoming quite popular.  It is my prayer that every little “Joy Linda” will carry the joy of the Lord within her heart each and every day of their life.

There is another trend happening within the slums as well.  I am meeting little Manley’s along the way too!  They are healthy, happy and strong little boys. 

After sharing at a crusade of how God healed me of leukemia I was asked to go to a few homes within the slums and pray for people.  We entered Jackie’s home for the first time in 2005.  She had just given birth a few days before and was very weak.  There were complications during the home birth and they were worried that she was going to die.  We prayed and the Lord healed her and through the years has blessed her with more children.    

 

Jackie's little “Manley” is getting big!  He plays nearby while his mama works in her new shop as a seamstress.

How I rejoice at what the Lord is doing for Sarah.  Beautiful Sarah and her little children were thrown out into the streets a few years ago.  Her husband rejected her and refused to care for his children. They had nothing and no place to go.  Sarah succumbed to life on the streets and fed her children from the little bit she made. She was caught in a pit of despair, being mistreated, abused and hungry.  She found her way to the church and the pastor turned his very small office into a place for her and the children to sleep.  We helped feed them and soon their very thin bodies reflected growth and well-being.  They came to the services and we not only saw physical change but we saw their hearts changing as well.  Sarah was coming alive. The troubled and worn face we once saw was now reflecting happiness.  As Sarah walked beside me I quietly rejoiced at what the Lord was doing in her life. In the midst of this chaos and ugliness something beautiful has happened in Sarah’s life.  She had nothing but sorrow, nothing but despair but now she sings a new song.  She has found peace.  She has found forgiveness and a new life.  She has found Jesus.

There is much pain and suffering before my eyes and it never seems to lessen.  The slums groan with agony, the earth rumbles with pain beneath my feet and with each rising sun comes another day of the same.  Yet for some they rejoice through it all.   They thank the Lord, with a heart full of joy, for the smallest of things.  They rejoice at the gift of a new day, for life, for legs to walk and for the food that sustains them for another day.

Psalm 40:2-3 He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear the LORD and put their trust in him.