Suffering Surrounds Me

December 25^th 2013 (Wednesday) It’s Christmas morning and the sky is blue, the birds are singing and the sun shines bright. As we travel to church monkeys playfully jump from branch to branch beside the road. It is far from the look of Christmas at home where all is bitterly cold and white. 

 

It’s time to celebrate the birth of Jesus and many have walked a distance to join us.  Adults are welcomed to the front as the children have their chairs in the back of the church.   

The children have prepared special songs and dance for this very important day!  A few strands of colorful ribbons decorate the front of the church.

As I’m speaking I am soon made aware that we have a guest with us.  A flutter and clucking sound startles me as I realize a mama sitting close by has brought a chicken with her.  It’s time for the offering and this mama brings her chicken to the front of the church.  It is her offering and a big sacrifice on her part.

It is time to give thanksgiving to God for all that he has done in 2013. One by one they stand and give thanks.  From the middle of the room a mama stands and comes to the front of the church.  She wears the traditional wrap around her hair and one can see she has many struggles in life.  She faces the people and begins to speak.  Tears run down her cheeks.  Her heart is breaking and her pain has been felt by so many here in the village. Her seven year old son had just passed away a few hours earlier.   

Lack of nutrition, HIV, TB, and malaria has left many weak and suffering.  Disease and sickness robs them of the quality of life and it is has taken the lives of young and old alike.

After the morning service we had a special time of celebration with the school children.  They sit quietly in their chairs not knowing what to expect.  Soda is brought in for each one!  We’ve had mandazi , an East African donut, made and we have plenty.  Each child is given two!!  It doesn’t take them long to bite into these special treats.   

At the market we found two pieces of clothing for each child. We then put them in plastic bags and taped their name to the outside.  We took the extra time to make sure they could see their name on the outside of the plastic bag. We wanted them to have something of their own. I thought for sure the excitement would rise up within each one and the bags would be torn open.  I was wrong.  These children didn’t know that there was a gift inside.  They had never had a wrapped gift given to them before.  Not one child had opened their bag.  Each one sat there with the bag in their lap and waited.  I then realized that these children needed to be told that inside the bag was something for them.  They needed to be told to open the bag and see the gift inside. They learned by example as I took an extra bag and began to untie it.  

One by one the bags began to open and the clothes were pulled out.  I heard little ones giggle with excitement over a pair of shorts and shirt.  I saw eyes that expressed great happiness as they looked inside their bag. There were very big smiles and excitement filled the room. 

 

After the children were finished and dismissed for the day we opened up the church to meet with parents.  The people in the villages struggle and all have challenges.  They find school fees, even though they are very low, to be hard to meet.  Each one has a different story, a different problem but the need is the same. They need a job. They need food. They need school fees.  The area is filled with adults and complete families that have never gone to school.  They represent different tribes that have been displaced from their home land.  They own nothing.  The land they live on is not theirs.  They don’t have land to grow crops. Many are sick and need medical assistance.  They lack education and skills to find employment.

A woman staggers into the meeting.  She is loud and demanding.  She has tried to cover her pain with home brew.  She sits with us but with a stern voice she is told that she must be quiet or leave. She quiets herself and enjoys a soda.

The needs are many.  The lack is great.  Their pain and suffering surrounds me.

Leviticus 23:22 When you reap the harvest of your land, do not reap to the very edges of your field or gather the gleanings of your harvest. Leave them for the poor and the alien. I am the LORD your God."

The White Woman Cries

December 24, 2013 (Tuesday) It’s the day before Christmas and we return to the market area in search of more clothes for the school children.  It is such a busy area and it is heavily traveled with bikes, motorbikes, matatus, buses, people coming and going and the occasional cow or two that walks the road way.  The roadside is full of vendors and there is an abundance of tomatoes, carrots, onions, kale and maize.  The sun beats down on them and zaps the freshness away before the day comes to an end.  Small fires burn in the midst of all of the business of the market and the smoke fills the area around us.  The flies gather around the baskets of dry fish and make it their home. It is also an area that one must be alert and keep all belongings close to their body.

We finish our shopping and with several hours of daylight left we head out to the villages.  We are committed to visit all of the school children’s homes.  We will be able to do a few visits today before the sun goes down.

There is always concern for me because of the terrain we are to walk but I convince them not to worry.  We head into the hills and travel through the fields of Taito.  There are fields of sunflowers that cover the land.   

The path way narrows and there are brooks to jump, barb wire fences to crawl through and hills to climb.  The sun now high in the sky beats down upon us with raging fire.  Sitting within each home brings a few moments of welcome relief and we are very grateful for the rest.

We are in an area of large fields of maize and beans and some are getting their maize ready for the market.  People here suffer with hunger as the land does not belong to them.  They came here seeking refuge after the post-election violence.  They came with deep wounds within their heart from the bloodshed that reached their home villages, friends and family.  They found land to lease but not to purchase.  This arrangement prevents them from growing their own crops.

The children run ahead to tell everyone that we are near.  They have been waiting with anticipation and excitement for their visitors.  Some even put on their Sunday best and have asked relatives to come and join in this special time.   

Within the humble homes a stool or two is dusted and we are asked to rest.  Some might have a wooden framed couch or chair but most cannot afford the cushions to go on top.  The walls are bare except for an occasional calendar which is usually dated from years before.  Chickens join us as we visit and leave at will.

Before leaving each home we share words of encouragement and have a time of prayer.  We also leave a small package of tea leaves with them as a gift of love.

The headmaster gets a call and I am told that a twelve year old boy has died and his brother goes to our school.  I’m asked if I would be willing to go to the family’s home.  My answer was yes and we walked further into the hills.  Many had gathered together and I began to greet each one young and old.  It was a nicely kept area and there were several traditional buildings close together.  A few adults stood at the doorway of one of the units and welcomed me inside.  Not realizing the customs for burial I was not prepared for the scene before me.   

The walls were made from the mud of the earth and reduced the lighting within.  It was somewhat dark but my eyes fell to a small frame body on the floor.  His mother sat quietly in a chair at his feet and looked down upon the motionless blanket that covered her son.  My eyes gazed downward and then up into her eyes.  I had never met her before but tears filled my eyes and we wept together.  I took both of her hands and began to pray and the tears continued to fall.  This white woman was crying, she was feeling pain, she was mourning with them and people began to gather around.  The room filled with people. The doorway filled people.  They never said a word. They just stared at me as I cried.  They were stunned and in awe about the tears they saw running down my face.   I was soon asked if I would stay longer and speak to all of their family and friends that had come from near and far to be with them.

We gathered outside under some trees and my voice broke the silence around me.  It was a time of reflection, a time of making sure we remember what is important in life and most of all a time of making sure that those listening had the opportunity to receive Jesus into their heart.

Revelation 21:4    and He shall wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there shall no longer be any death; there shall no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain; the first things have passed away

A Busy Market Day!

December 22, 2013 (Sunday) The morning sky is very blue and it appears that we have shifted into a new season and left the rains behind.  Just outside of town is a church that sits in the open field with Mt Elgon, an extinct volcano, visible in the distance.  I’ve been invited to speak here at this church once again.  One of the pastors greets me outside and welcomes my visitors as well.  A family from America had joined me as they were looking for a church service to attend.

The people have worked together to make their church beautiful.  It was good to see all that they had done while I was away.  The platform once a dirt floor is now covered in big cement tiles.  It helps keep the dust down as they sing and dance.  Today there was lots of singing and dancing as we are nearing Christmas day.

Before we ended the service all were asked to take a moment and consider just where their steps were taking them.   Many silently prayed but a young woman and a man took steps that brought them to the altar for prayer.  They were making a decision to walk with the Lord.

December 23, 2013 (Monday) Christmas day will soon be here and it is usually celebrated with families going to church.  If food is available they will gather together for a special meal.  So many families would love to have gifts to give but it is beyond reach.  Christmas decorations and trees are seldom seen.

After our Christmas day service we want to have a special celebration with our school children.  There are about 60 school children from the villages of Makoi and Taito.  So today our goal is to walk the market area and find two pieces of clothing for each child and then pick up the necessary ingredients to make Mandazi (East African Donut).   

The market is a busy place and this time of year it is even more so. There are piles and mounds of clothes to go through.  Some are placed in bins, others are spread out neatly on a big blanket and then there are piles just dumped on the ground.  We walk the narrow dirt paths that wind between the booths and individual businesses of clothes and produce.  The prices are yelled into the open air. One voice tries to outdo the next in hopes that they might pull you their way.  Bartering is a general practice and in order to survive you need to stand your ground! 

With the hot sun beating down upon us we leave the busy market area in order to find some charcoal.  We walk into a quieter area with less people.  Individual tins of charcoal are set up beside the road ready for the daily buyer and sacs of charcoal for the serious buyer!  

There isn’t any need to worry about how we are going to carry the sac of charcoal.  The delivery bike is ready and waiting!

Now we have everything we need for making mandazi. We couldn't bless the children without our amazing cook! It's not an easy task to cook for sixty children but she does it with a beautiful heart and a beautiful smile:)

Psalm 95:6,7 Come, let us bow down in worship, let us kneel before the Lord our Maker for he is our God and we are the people of his pasture, the flock under his care.

Little Linda Junior

December 17, 2013 (Tuesday) It’s good to be welcomed back!  Little Rehan who was brought here because his mom had passed away and his father didn’t want him is bright eyed and so very happy.

 

The caravan’s into the oil well drilling area of Turkana Land still come and go on a regular basis.  Soldiers with machine guns are posted on the compound and keep watch round the clock.

Even here in western Kenya the rains continue to fall.  This makes traveling a bit more difficult and shortens the day.  We made a trip to Seeds Children’s Home noting the clouds in the sky and trusting that we could have a visit with the children before it started to pour.

 

I’ve been away just a few months and the work that has been completed in that time is amazing. The new girls dorm, with is sponsored by Matilda Jane Clothing, is done! Now more girls rescued from the slums will have a safe place to call home.  

My heart still aches when my eyes lock on the girl with the injured leg. It is a constant reminder of the real horror that some of these girls have lived through.  She is beautiful and has soared above the life she left in the slums.  At a very young age her aunt chained her leg to the inside of her house within the slums.  As this young girl grew the leg grew around this chain and lock fitting tightly around her leg.  She was sold for sex over and over again by her aunt.  One night she escaped and rain franticaly out into the street.  She was screaming and crying for help when a car passing through her area stopped.  She pleaded for help, she begged for help.  The people in this car were Pastor Richard and his wife Helen.   Along with many other ministries they have an orphanage out of town with a wonderful environment for the children to grow up in.  They went to this girl’s home and found six men waiting.  This young girl’s story was true and she never returned to that home again.  Still today her leg shows the years of trauma she lived through.

As I toured the new building the children became aware that I was there.  It’s a wonderful thing to hear your name called!  Somewhere in the sea of faces there were one or two little ones that recognized me from a distance.

All the children love attention and there is always a contest as to who is going to hold your hand.  Usually there are three or four attached to each side of me.  Sarah was determined that she was not going to be pushed away.  Sarah is one of the little girls that were rescued from the slums.  I’ll never forget the day that her little body was put in my lap and her two brothers sat beside me. Sarah was so very tiny and very sick.  The first place we went was to the hospital to have all three of them checked out.  They were dirty, their noses were running and I could feel the rattle with in Sarah’s chest as she snuggled in close to me.  These little ones had lost their mom two weeks earlier and had been struggling in a land where most go unnoticed.   Their tears have turned to joy and all three have such beautiful smiles.  They are healthy and growing strong.

December 19, 2013 (Thursday) It is with great joy that I introduce “Linda Junior” to you.  She was born in the slums of Nairobi this morning. She is healthy, strong and beautiful.  Both Mama Esther and baby are doing fine.  We thank God for this beautiful child.

Mark 10:16 He took the children in his arms, put his hands on them and blessed them.

Grenade Kills Four

December 13, 2013 (Friday) Many missionaries travel through Nairobi either coming or to go back home. Since I arrived in Nairobi I've met three missionaries that I know.  It's been wonderful to hear what God has been doing in their areas since I've been gone. It’s always good to spend time with friends. 

The West Gate Mall was the sight of a horrific terrorist attack on September 21, 2013. This four day siege took the lives of at least 67 and wounded over 200. It was Kenya’s worst terrorist attack in fifteen years.  Today the building partially stands and will soon be completely torn down and rebuilt. I am told it will be a two year building program.  As we rode by it today the evidence of war still remains.  The building is peppered with bullet holes and many in Kenya still carry the scars from such a tragic day.

December 14, 2013 (Saturday) The weather for Kenya has been slightly off this year and the rains are a bit late. We’ve had to cancel our scheduled door to door visits throughout the slums because of the heavy rains. The clouds roll in like clockwork and the rains fall long and hard.  The slum area is now full of mud and their homes have become very damp.  The rain is necessary and welcomed but  will also bring more hardship and sickness to the people living in the slums.

Life in Kenya continues to change and one must be aware of what is happening around them.  New security measures are in place within the city of Nairobi but still it is not enough. Today there was another grenade attack on a matatu (mini bus/van) which is a popular means of travel here in Nairobi.  At least 15 people have been injured and four have been killed.
­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­BBC News - Nairobi bus hit by deadly grenade attack

www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-africa-25383506

December 16, 2013 (Monday) At the crack of dawn the morning birds have a chorus that fills the land around us. They welcome the day in with a beautiful song that is delightful to wake to.  

Today I was up and ready with the birds! It’s was time to travel into the western parts of Kenya.  It’s a short trip across the city of Nairobi to the bus station but we need to allow time for the traffic jams along the way. With traffic it could take us two hours to get to the other side of the city.

It is Christmas season and schools are closed for the month of December. The buses are in demand as people want to return to their home village to have Christmas with their family.  I arrived early at the bus station but many others had arrived before me. Large groups of people stood on the sidewalk waiting for their buses.  Suitcases, sacs, boxes, of all sizes and shapes were being packed on the buses.  Three buses at a time were being loaded and still the crowd did not lessen.  A white woman mixed together with a crowd of Kenyans on the sidewalk waiting for  her bus gets a few "looks."  A quick smile given to the various children looking my way usually ends up with one given back :)  For two hours bus after bus pulled away with their passengers. It was obvious that my bus was behind schedule.  Each time a bus pulled up and pulled away billows of black exhaust covered all of us in a cloud of fumes. 

My bus finally arrived and everyone had found their seat. It was time to leave the beautiful people and friends of Nairobi and travel to the country and mountains of western Kenya.

As the bus wheels rolled forward the scenery quickly changed. The city had vanished from my eyes and was replaced with the green Rift Valley.  We climbed one mountain after another and traveled around sharp corners. There were times that the oncoming traffic didn't understand which side of the road they belong on. Women walked beside the roadway with bundles of long pieces of firewood on their head.  There were carts being pulled by donkeys and women sitting beside the road trying to sell produce. Goats, sheep and cows were grazing in the fields and along the roadside. 

There was a time or two that the bus came to an abrupt stop because a couple cows just didn't see the need to hurry. The zebra’s and gazelles brought a bit of excitement into the day as well!  The Rift Valley is amazing and its volcanic mountains sitting high in the background are beautiful.  We continue and our destination is near.  The sun sets and the cool mountain air of the night rises to greet us.  We have arrived!

Psalm 121:1, 2

 I lift up my eyes to the mountains - where does my help come from?  My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.