The moment we walked out of the airport I was in awe. I was seeing trees I had only seen in Lion King. Mountains, hills, and people EVERYWHERE. The first two weeks in Kenya we stayed at a children's home in the middle of the bush. In a place called Ray of Hope. We had to drive through the city, it was so busy, people walking, riding bikes and pushing carts. They had goats everywhere. There were street markets and so many smells, good ones and really bad ones. We started to head out of the city and turned on a road that took us up a mountain. The best way to explain how I felt about this first ride through the bush is off roading. We were in the van, called a matatu, going over hills, hitting bumps, going through ruts two feet deep. There we times I wondered if we were even going to make it, but we did. The scenery took my breath away. Mountains covered in palm trees, mud huts and small children standing with a staff and their heard of goats. I loved this place. As we drove by the huts dancing mothers would stop and stare, her children would point as they started chasing our van and yelling, "Jumbo!" (hello). But sometimes the children would just point and say, "Mzungu!" (white people). We finally pulled up to Ray of Hope. The grounds were amazing, as could be expected in a place so far out in the middle of nowhere there is not electricity, or running water, but they have gotten solar power up and the water they have is collected in big black plastic barrels when it rains. The staff was very welcoming, but as can be expected the kids didn't know quite what to think of us at first. It didn't take long for them to start teaching us how to dance and laughing at our efforts, but what they really loved was braiding our hair. After the first day of surviving without running water, showering with a bucket holding less water then I have ever used in my life, and going to the bathroom in a hole in the ground, I realized that yes this was a major culture shock, but it was so beautiful. Seeing the simplicity that these people live in, things that I had grown up viewing as a mere necessity, air conditioning, a toilet, a shower every night, enough water to drink, water that didn't make me sick, enough food, CHOOSING the food I wanted, being able to be a picky eater... these aren't options in this place. And yet, they are the most generous, caring, loving people. Those who have none, giving to those who have more then they know what to do with.
The first week at Ray of Hope was like an open battle field for my mind and emotions. Part of me was, 'I am so happy to be here! God use me guide me! Whatever it is, tell me and I will walk it out in immediate obedience.' another part of me was, 'I can't leave this place if I wanted to. I want to. I'm stuck here. Three months peeing in a hole in the ground? I don't want to speak if front of people. God don't make me preach. I'm not going to do it. If they tell me to preach I'm faking sick.' and then the other part of me was saying, 'God, I can't do this. I don't have the strength to do this. I'm scared. I feel guilty for wanting to leave. But I want to stay. I want to do this with everything I am." This last feeling is the one that God worked with.
Psalm 139:10 ~ Your hand shall lead me, Your right hand shall hold me. This was the scripture He gave me for this time. He took me through a process of realizing I couldn't do what was being asked of me, unless I had Him. "The lasting value of our public service for God is measured by the depth of the intimacy of our private times of fellowship in oneness with Him." I knew I was not going to be able to give out to the people we were ministering to, UNLESS I was giving myself to Him, completely, during my quiet times.
Our first week in Kenya was spent with the kids and doing maintenance work on the grounds. We painted houses and did yard work. Several mornings at around 9am we would walk to the school that the orphanage runs and work with the kids. It's for preschool, KG1 and KG2 so three years old through six years old. We have been teaching them English. The kids break my heart, they are so precious, most of them walk several miles every morning just to come. They are in old torn clothes and so tiny. They always wanted us to hold them. They fight just to hold our hands. I have really fallen in love with them.. We also had a kids camp. Kids from all over the bush came, we had a teaching, games, songs, fed them a meal, and just spent time with the kids. We also did school ministry for the older kids. We went to a muslin school to talk to the kids there, it was a 2 hour hike, we live at the bottom of the mountain and it was at the top. It was rough, but I did it! At one point I got kind of sick, just from the heat and climbing. Some of the time we were legit rock climbing and sometimes all I wanted to do was sit on my butt and slide down because it was so hard to keep my footing in the dirt because the roads that we walked on some of the time were straight down or straight up. Other times we were walking through grass with no path and the grass was over our heads. I felt like a real mountain woman! haha. Sadly, when we were walking back to base, in the corn field, in sight of the house, I fell and twisted my ankle. I lost it and started sobbing, not really because it hurt, but because I was so exhausted and still felt sick. There was some comic relief as Emmanuel, our translator checked my ankle the tried to put my shoe back on, now Toms and tight anyways when they are new, but my foot had swollen up a lot and he was struggling. It made us all laugh. Kevin, our leader, and Victoria helped me and got me back to the house. Sunday was our first time leading a service and it went so well. Brittany, Bryanna and I lead the Sunday school and Christopher lead the main service. We left at 7am and it was about a forty minute drive to the church. The fact that I was in Africa hit me when I got out of the car and saw all the little black faces staring back at me, reaching out to shake my hand, then running away as soon as they did. We were taken inside this small building filled with chairs and the front was decorated with what looked like wall paper on the floor. Then the service started, the drums began to beat and they started to dance, and then her voice rang out, clear and high, then the other children started to join in. It brought tears to my eyes to see the way that these children worshiped their Jesus. And I knew they had an understanding of our God that the Western world just can't seem to grasp. These people have so little, yet they give everything they have, even if all they have is time. The bible stories aren't dumbed down for the kids, they are spoken with just as much conviction as to the adults.
Ray of Hope is the Orphanage we were staying at the first two weeks. Not until the last few weeks of outreach was I able to process what I saw while I was there. I was thinking about how different the African dream is compared to the American dream. In Africa for Fathers it is just dreaming they can make enough money to feed their families and take care of their children. For Mothers it is that their child would live past the age of one. For children it is that they don't loose a parent, whether by death or something worse, like trafficking. Parents pray they don't have to many children so that they don't have to choose which to keep and which to send to the orphanages. Women don't even talk about being pregnant because it is likely they will loose the baby. I can't imagine living like that. But then I look at these kids I have fallen in love with at Ray of Hope and I realize how many children loose touch with those dreams before they even have a chance to begin sometimes. Ruthie and Abebah ages 8 and 5 have been at Ray of Hope for a little over 3 years and it is because their mother died and their father wants nothing to do with them. Morris a 5 year old boy who's Father died of cancer and his mother one day went to market and never came back. She just disappeared. They don't know where she went. Chadodo, 8 years old, her parents can't afford her. Then there is this other girl. 14 years old who went home for Christmas and her dad who is a Muslim won't let her go back to Ray of Hope because she loves Jesus and now he is sending her to marry a man twice her age. Their problems are so much bigger then ours. It's hard to wrap my head around. But at the same time I see so much hope in their eyes. Hope that Jesus has given to them, because of the staff at Ray of Hope that have chosen to give up their rights and their comforts to see that these kids live a good life.
I could never fully explain the way that these children and the staff at Ray of Hope impacted me, but I know that it has given me a new perspective of laying down my life, of being willing to be Jesus to someone. It's not going to always look attractive. It's not always going to be traveling to beautiful, exotic, comfortable places. Sometimes it might be to a place that smells like burning trash, that is hotter then you ever thought possible, where you sweat more then a gallon a day and wake up dehydrated. But the thing is it doesn't matter where He asks you to go to lay down your life, because as long as you are walking in obedience He will give you the grace to keep running the race till the finish line. And bring so many blessings along the way that you can't even question whether He sent you or not.
So this was my first two weeks of outreach, in Shimba Hills at Ray of Hope. My next update will be about Kalifi.
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