Women are undervalued. They are undervalued in different ways
depending on culture, religion and economic development throughout the
world. Women are not seen or treated as equals to men. They are
overworked, abused, oppressed, exploited, demeaned and underpaid.
Recognizing this gender inequality in Kenya, the Umoja Project has
started a girl empowerment initiative called GET UP. School attendance
for girls drops significantly after grade 8 for various reasons, so GET
UP focuses on girls from classes 6-8. GET UP empowers girls by teaching
them about communication, relationships, health and life skills in
hopes that it will keep vulnerable girls from dropping out of school.
Education is the ticket out of poverty, and out of the damaging cycles
of young pregnancy or marriage, so hopefully GET UP will offer these
girls the knowledge to get out of such cycles.
This summer, the GET UP lesson topic was HIV prevention and
treatment. A disease that is surrounding these girls’ lives…infecting
their families, churches, communities and schools. The topic requires
sex education, however we know that most of these girls probably know
more about sex than we’d like to acknowledge or admit. So, on Saturday
morning the class 6-8 girls from several schools convene on the lawn of
one of the schools. They timidly walk up and sit down on the desks and
benches. They don’t know what to expect…and they are not used to such
an event that focuses solely on girls.
Throughout our time of GET UP lesson planning, I felt the Spirit
stirring my heart. My unsettled feeling kept getting stronger and
stronger until I finally spoke up. All this talk about HIV prevention,
abstinence and Bible verses that speak about our bodies as temples…but,
what about those girls whose bodies have already been used for other
things, removing any feeling of holiness? What about those girls who
have possibly been exposed to this disease already? What about those
girls who have been sexually abused for years? Or by the trusted men in
their lives? What about the girls whose bodies no longer feel valuable
or worth anything? What about those girls who think that because they
have already been used, they can now let any man use them? This HIV
message is going to fall on deaf ears if we do not address these
silently suffering daughters of Christ. After my time in Zambia last
summer, I painfully learned about how prevalent sexual abuse is in
African culture…just as in so many other cultures.
We decided that I would speak to these girls. At the end of the
lesson, I would preach to girls who felt like lost causes…like used
goods…like there was nothing left that anyone would want:
“But our citizenship is in heaven, and it is from there that we are expecting a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. He will transform the body of our humiliation that it may be conformed to the body of his glory,
by the power that also enables him to make all things subject to
himself. Therefore, my brothers and sisters, whom I love and long for,
my joy and crown, stand firm in the Lord in this way, my beloved.”
(Phil 3:20-4:1)
Amen! God will take our bodies of humiliation and conform (adapt)
them to the body of His Glory!! The power that places all things under
God is the same power that restores bodies of shame and embarrassment.
Therefore, stand firm in the Lord! I stood up in front of the girls and
said that maybe there were girls in our midst that have been taken
advantage of…that have already been used sexually. Maybe there were
girls who no longer had feelings of pride or holiness for their
bodies…just as so many other girls in Kenya, in the U.S., and in every
other country in the world. I told them that there is hope! There is
restoration! They are still the Lord’s beloved and can still be used
for God’s glory. Hallelujah! I moved on to a new way of thinking:
“…Christ has made me his own. Beloved, I do not consider that I
have made it my own; but this one thing I do: forgetting what lies
behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, press on toward the
goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus” (Phil
3:12b-14)
FORGET what lies behind. STRAIN forward to what lies AHEAD. PRESS ON toward the goal of the heavenly call.
Forget…meaning to overlook or disregard the past. Drop it. Let it go.
Strain…meaning to strive or labor for. It’s not easy, it takes work. Struggle to move forward to what is to come.
Press on…meaning to pursue or proceed toward the goal. Don’t get
stuck. Don’t stop forward motion. Don’t take your eyes off the end
goal, the divine call.
My heart ached for these girls. I wanted them to know, feel, and
experience how much God loves, treasures and adores these daughters of
His…including their bodies. I wanted to take each girl who was facing
this hardship and make them realize that this one part of their life
does not define them. God restores. He wants to help them move past
this, to move forward, and to reach their heavenly call. There was
complete silence the whole time I was speaking. All 120 sets of eyes
were on me…and I felt the Spirit ministering. Oh, how deeply I meant
every word that came out of my mouth…oh, how I looked into as many eyes
as possible. I was present. I was standing with these broken girls at
the same time as showing them God’s redemption.
Of course God turns this passage around on me weeks later. I visit a
wise woman of God during my last week in the village…I had some
brokenness and questions that I needed counsel about. This mentor was
not at GET UP, and did not know that I had been referencing this
Philippians passage during my time in Kenya thus far. However, her
wisdom to me? To forget what lies behind, and to press on toward what
God has for me in the future. Even though I had been the one telling,
and believing in, such things for those girls…I needed to be the
recipient of those same words myself.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Saturday, July 14, 2012
The ABCs
The other day we did a GET UP (Girls Empowerment Team of the Umoja
Project) session with the middle shcool aged girls at four of the
Umoja partner schools. Our topic to cover was HIV/AIDS. Simple enough,
right? Wear condoms. Know the HIV status of your sexul partners. Fewer
sexual encounters means fewer chances for infection. Don't share
razors. Shaking hands and hugging are safe ways to interact with
people with HIV. Sharing food and a toilet are also safe. Avoid blood,
semon, vaginal discharge, and breast milk as they carry the highest
concentration of the virus.
Yeah, but its not that simple!
The PeaceCorps Life Skills book for this region of Africa that we were
using to help plan the event suggested that we teach the ABCs of HIV.
The ABCs are universally taught.
A = Abstain
B = Be faithful
C = Condoms
I think I was taught the ABCs of HIV back in the US when I was the
same age as these girls. And it makes sense - following these three
directions is bound to greatly decrease one's chance of contracting
HIV.
But how could we teach these things in this culture?
Yes, as a child growing up in the US, I could say no.(Although, that
isn't the reality for many children in the United States who are
abused or forced to work on the street to survive.) And these girls in
Kenya can also say no, but its not the same here.
ABSTAIN. Really, abstain? Let's think about this. Each of these girls
is a partial or total orphan living in a highly patriarchal culture.
Abuse and sexual explotation is rampant. And additionally the children
in Kenya are constantly reminded of how education is the only way to
improve their quality of life. Education is everything to these
students. It is so different from the United States. The high school
students at the St. Gabriel's Minor Seminary, a Catholic boys secondry
boarding school for students discerning a call to the priesthood that I
stay at, wake up at 4:00AM each day to begin studying. They start
class at 7:00AM and continue until 5:00PM or so, but after that they
continue with remedial lessons with their teachers until late in the
evening. Then they do their homework late into the night, only to wake
up the next day at 4:00AM. Even primary school students attend class
on Saturdays. And most of the female students who don't board have
several hours of house work to complete in addition to their school
obligations. Education is top priority in this culture.
Students fight to remain in school. They would do anything for the
opportunity to receive an education. And they do. These girls accept
the offers of their male classmates to have sex with them in exchange
for notebooks for class and other needed school materials. They accept
the advances of older men who might assist with their school fees or
buy them their required school uniform. Because of this, I spoke with
the girls at the GET UP program about saying no to those advances and
offers. We told them that they were beautifully created children of
God, who were known, loved , and adored by the one who created them.
Mandy reminded them that they were treasured possessions of God
(Deuteronomy 7:6). And Winnie, a former Umoja student, told them that they were more valuable than a
notebook of paper that costs at most 50 shillings (roughly 70 cents).
And they are.
But my words were so hallow. These girls are valuable. They are
children and treasures of God. They deserve so much more. But how can
I tell them to "just say no." As if it was that simple. As if saying
no didn't result in them losing their school fees and giving up on
any opportunity for success or a life that they have any control over.
Abstain, be faithful, wear condoms. I felt like a fish out of water.
Could I have been any less sensitive to the realities of their
situations? Statistically, nearly a 1/4 of these girls have been
sexually abused or exploited. Who am I to direct them when I am so out
of touch with the realities of their lives.
These girls are valuable. They are tremendously more valuable than the
few pieces of paper that they are surendering themselves for. But can
I really stand in front of them and tell them to forfeit their
opportunity for education (and better and more full life) over their
purity? I just don't know. I don't know what God wanted me to say. But
I'm pretty sure God had some other words in mind. I'm pretty sure
words aren't enough for the reality of this situation. I can't see the
answer for these girls. I'm pretty sure God knows it, but I'm
struggling to trust in that.
Project) session with the middle shcool aged girls at four of the
Umoja partner schools. Our topic to cover was HIV/AIDS. Simple enough,
right? Wear condoms. Know the HIV status of your sexul partners. Fewer
sexual encounters means fewer chances for infection. Don't share
razors. Shaking hands and hugging are safe ways to interact with
people with HIV. Sharing food and a toilet are also safe. Avoid blood,
semon, vaginal discharge, and breast milk as they carry the highest
concentration of the virus.
Yeah, but its not that simple!
The PeaceCorps Life Skills book for this region of Africa that we were
using to help plan the event suggested that we teach the ABCs of HIV.
The ABCs are universally taught.
A = Abstain
B = Be faithful
C = Condoms
I think I was taught the ABCs of HIV back in the US when I was the
same age as these girls. And it makes sense - following these three
directions is bound to greatly decrease one's chance of contracting
HIV.
But how could we teach these things in this culture?
Yes, as a child growing up in the US, I could say no.(Although, that
isn't the reality for many children in the United States who are
abused or forced to work on the street to survive.) And these girls in
Kenya can also say no, but its not the same here.
ABSTAIN. Really, abstain? Let's think about this. Each of these girls
is a partial or total orphan living in a highly patriarchal culture.
Abuse and sexual explotation is rampant. And additionally the children
in Kenya are constantly reminded of how education is the only way to
improve their quality of life. Education is everything to these
students. It is so different from the United States. The high school
students at the St. Gabriel's Minor Seminary, a Catholic boys secondry
boarding school for students discerning a call to the priesthood that I
stay at, wake up at 4:00AM each day to begin studying. They start
class at 7:00AM and continue until 5:00PM or so, but after that they
continue with remedial lessons with their teachers until late in the
evening. Then they do their homework late into the night, only to wake
up the next day at 4:00AM. Even primary school students attend class
on Saturdays. And most of the female students who don't board have
several hours of house work to complete in addition to their school
obligations. Education is top priority in this culture.
Students fight to remain in school. They would do anything for the
opportunity to receive an education. And they do. These girls accept
the offers of their male classmates to have sex with them in exchange
for notebooks for class and other needed school materials. They accept
the advances of older men who might assist with their school fees or
buy them their required school uniform. Because of this, I spoke with
the girls at the GET UP program about saying no to those advances and
offers. We told them that they were beautifully created children of
God, who were known, loved , and adored by the one who created them.
Mandy reminded them that they were treasured possessions of God
(Deuteronomy 7:6). And Winnie, a former Umoja student, told them that they were more valuable than a
notebook of paper that costs at most 50 shillings (roughly 70 cents).
And they are.
But my words were so hallow. These girls are valuable. They are
children and treasures of God. They deserve so much more. But how can
I tell them to "just say no." As if it was that simple. As if saying
no didn't result in them losing their school fees and giving up on
any opportunity for success or a life that they have any control over.
Abstain, be faithful, wear condoms. I felt like a fish out of water.
Could I have been any less sensitive to the realities of their
situations? Statistically, nearly a 1/4 of these girls have been
sexually abused or exploited. Who am I to direct them when I am so out
of touch with the realities of their lives.
These girls are valuable. They are tremendously more valuable than the
few pieces of paper that they are surendering themselves for. But can
I really stand in front of them and tell them to forfeit their
opportunity for education (and better and more full life) over their
purity? I just don't know. I don't know what God wanted me to say. But
I'm pretty sure God had some other words in mind. I'm pretty sure
words aren't enough for the reality of this situation. I can't see the
answer for these girls. I'm pretty sure God knows it, but I'm
struggling to trust in that.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Time
Here is a journal entry from just a little while ago:
Today was my first real experience with rain in Kenya. (Little did I know that I would have many more.) I say that because it is the first time I've been caught in hard rain without a vehicle. It was interesting. And it was such a reminder of how disconnected we, in America, are from nature. In the US, we jump in our cars and speed through the rain on our paved road with our windshields going full speed. But here, the weather can shape your day. And in an American mindset, that can be very frustrating. On any given day, meetings are cut short because the sky changes color and the temperature drops.
And today when the GET UP (Girls Empowerment Team of the Umoja Project) program ended, the rain began. At first it sprinkled, then it poured, and at times it even hailed. We were worried that the girls would be stuck in the rain, but just like we took shelter in the head teacher's office, they took shelter in the classrooms. And there we waited. But in our waiting we conversed, took lunch, and enjoyed the company of the teachers, guardians, and our own team. Our time together was actually quite nice. But it also meant that we were very late to spend the afternoon with Emily, the woman who was hosting Mandy and Elizabeth in her home. But our tardiness of several hours was completely acceptable. And Emily was completely okay with Tiffany and I leaving only an hour after we arrived so that we could make it home before dark.
Before I left the United States, people warned me about "Africa time" or "Kenyan time." And I was actually told that the Kenyan practices of time might be the only things that I shouldn't bring back from the Kenyan culture to the US. But there is something beautiful about their concept of time even when it means waiting for long periods of time. Time is almost viewed as if it were a gift. Something that didn't belong to them. Something that rested in the hands of the community, not the individual. And ultimately rested in the hands of God.
Today was my first real experience with rain in Kenya. (Little did I know that I would have many more.) I say that because it is the first time I've been caught in hard rain without a vehicle. It was interesting. And it was such a reminder of how disconnected we, in America, are from nature. In the US, we jump in our cars and speed through the rain on our paved road with our windshields going full speed. But here, the weather can shape your day. And in an American mindset, that can be very frustrating. On any given day, meetings are cut short because the sky changes color and the temperature drops.
And today when the GET UP (Girls Empowerment Team of the Umoja Project) program ended, the rain began. At first it sprinkled, then it poured, and at times it even hailed. We were worried that the girls would be stuck in the rain, but just like we took shelter in the head teacher's office, they took shelter in the classrooms. And there we waited. But in our waiting we conversed, took lunch, and enjoyed the company of the teachers, guardians, and our own team. Our time together was actually quite nice. But it also meant that we were very late to spend the afternoon with Emily, the woman who was hosting Mandy and Elizabeth in her home. But our tardiness of several hours was completely acceptable. And Emily was completely okay with Tiffany and I leaving only an hour after we arrived so that we could make it home before dark.
Before I left the United States, people warned me about "Africa time" or "Kenyan time." And I was actually told that the Kenyan practices of time might be the only things that I shouldn't bring back from the Kenyan culture to the US. But there is something beautiful about their concept of time even when it means waiting for long periods of time. Time is almost viewed as if it were a gift. Something that didn't belong to them. Something that rested in the hands of the community, not the individual. And ultimately rested in the hands of God.
Kenyan Terrorist Attacks
17 killed in simultaneous attacks on 2 Christian churches. Grenades
and gunshots rang out while congregations were worshiping God. Death
interrupted people as they were giving what little they had to the
collection plate. Masked gunmen took people’s eyes away from Jesus and
onto terror, blood and the flashes of multiple explosions.
This is not our fight, per say, but it still feels violating. We are visitors in the country that is being targeted. We get a small taste of the fear, suspicion and helplessness that these terrorist attacks stir up in the Kenyan people. The killings happened in a small village on the opposite side of Kenya from us, near the Somalia border. The area typically gets the brunt of the tension between Kenya and the Somalian Al-Qaeda. The terrorist group from Somalia consists of individuals claiming to be Muslims, yet the media here insists that this is not a religious war. Rather, church gatherings are simply the events in Kenya that draw the largest number of people. Is it not a religious war if only people of one religion are being targeted? By attacking congregations that meet on Sundays, there was an assurance of no Muslim victims.
I begin to wonder what if the attacks started moving closer to us? How quickly would we stop attending church on Sundays, or even leave Kenya all together? Would we be quick to leave because the battle does not feel like ours? How different would our response be if these attacks targeted U.S. churches? Sadly, there was already an expectation that terrorism may occur while we were in Kenya since tensions between Somalia have been ongoing for quite some time. Is there more of an expectation, acceptance or tolerance of such attacks in third world countries, compared to such bloodshed happening in America? Why if these same gunmen attacked American churches would I be more outraged than I am now? One country does not deserve these senseless attacks any more than another country…so why would I want an immediate, overwhelming and forceful response from my own country in such a situation, but do not have the same passion for the Kenyan attacks? Is it because I already know that such force is not possible here? Kenya is more vulnerable, with less resources? Is it my American arrogance? Or simply love and sense of ownership for my own country?
The battle in Kenya is ours because it is our brothers and sisters in Christ that are being terrorized. As I make friends here, I see that these attacks are not just on a third world country…but they are on my friends. As I experience the humanity that is here, I see that we have more similarities than differences. And safety is something we all crave for our families and ourselves. Since the attacks, I can no longer robotically listen to the news…mindlessly hearing the countless death tolls from far away countries. These victims are fathers, mothers, children and friends. These people have families, lives, faiths, communities and people who love them. What I’m experiencing is the horror of terror in a country that doesn’t have the defense or resources that we Americans have the luxury of hiding behind…God help us all.
This is not our fight, per say, but it still feels violating. We are visitors in the country that is being targeted. We get a small taste of the fear, suspicion and helplessness that these terrorist attacks stir up in the Kenyan people. The killings happened in a small village on the opposite side of Kenya from us, near the Somalia border. The area typically gets the brunt of the tension between Kenya and the Somalian Al-Qaeda. The terrorist group from Somalia consists of individuals claiming to be Muslims, yet the media here insists that this is not a religious war. Rather, church gatherings are simply the events in Kenya that draw the largest number of people. Is it not a religious war if only people of one religion are being targeted? By attacking congregations that meet on Sundays, there was an assurance of no Muslim victims.
I begin to wonder what if the attacks started moving closer to us? How quickly would we stop attending church on Sundays, or even leave Kenya all together? Would we be quick to leave because the battle does not feel like ours? How different would our response be if these attacks targeted U.S. churches? Sadly, there was already an expectation that terrorism may occur while we were in Kenya since tensions between Somalia have been ongoing for quite some time. Is there more of an expectation, acceptance or tolerance of such attacks in third world countries, compared to such bloodshed happening in America? Why if these same gunmen attacked American churches would I be more outraged than I am now? One country does not deserve these senseless attacks any more than another country…so why would I want an immediate, overwhelming and forceful response from my own country in such a situation, but do not have the same passion for the Kenyan attacks? Is it because I already know that such force is not possible here? Kenya is more vulnerable, with less resources? Is it my American arrogance? Or simply love and sense of ownership for my own country?
The battle in Kenya is ours because it is our brothers and sisters in Christ that are being terrorized. As I make friends here, I see that these attacks are not just on a third world country…but they are on my friends. As I experience the humanity that is here, I see that we have more similarities than differences. And safety is something we all crave for our families and ourselves. Since the attacks, I can no longer robotically listen to the news…mindlessly hearing the countless death tolls from far away countries. These victims are fathers, mothers, children and friends. These people have families, lives, faiths, communities and people who love them. What I’m experiencing is the horror of terror in a country that doesn’t have the defense or resources that we Americans have the luxury of hiding behind…God help us all.
Complaining
Hello!
Finally feeling ready to blog. I haven't been able to think of something to write about... or maybe I've had too many thoughts in my head to get any of them straight. The latter sounds more correct.
For those of you who know me, you know I really don't like the pop singer Taylor Swift. I've always said that she needs to "get a real problem" as she sings about breaking up with her boyfriend of one-week. I feel like now I'm saying that same phrase to myself after having lived in Kenya for this month's time.
I am going to make a conscious effort not to complain unless truly appropriate. Here, for example, are some things I would complain about in the States:
I've always known that I am privileged but as I bucket bathe in the mornings and eat dinner by latern-light, I realize just how lucky I am.
It's hard for me not to feel angry when I think about how America lives in excess. People here give ALL the can; they feel that they have given/tithed/etc because of the amount given. In the US, I feel that I give from excess. Do we give until it hurts? Do we open our homes to people or go out of our way to serve others? I can tell you that the people in Kenya do. Even if they can only afford a soda, they will serve you and even if they don't have any shillings to give to the church, they will give a chicken as a donation. This isn't to say that I think we all should live in poverty, but I think some mentalities (mine) should change. The next time you're internet goes out, just be glad you have access to it and your own computer! When you're stuck in traffic, thank God that you have the means to afford car payments, gas, and insurance. When you go to the doctor, don't complain about the wait but be blessed that you're going to get great care (believe me.... you don't want to go to the Chulaimbo Health Center). Again, this is not to say that we should sell all of our things... or that everyone should be called to African missions. I am going to thank God for the blessings and opportunities that I have and give back 'til it hurts. I will be more mindful of this when I return to the States and share my experience with others. To be honest, I'm not sure how to do this. Do I just encourage people with my own personal actions/changes I'll make to my life? Do I share my stories and reflections? Can anyone understand what I've been here? Will I get sucked back in quickly to an American lifestyle of consumerism? Will I grow bitter towards the US, my friends and family?
I don't know how my life will change upon returning to the States in a mere 2.75 weeks but I pray that I (and my team mates) are forever moved and changed for the better.
Finally feeling ready to blog. I haven't been able to think of something to write about... or maybe I've had too many thoughts in my head to get any of them straight. The latter sounds more correct.
For those of you who know me, you know I really don't like the pop singer Taylor Swift. I've always said that she needs to "get a real problem" as she sings about breaking up with her boyfriend of one-week. I feel like now I'm saying that same phrase to myself after having lived in Kenya for this month's time.
I am going to make a conscious effort not to complain unless truly appropriate. Here, for example, are some things I would complain about in the States:
- I don't want to do laundry
- Ugh, I have to empty the dishwasher
- There's too much traffic
- The Duke University bus system gets me to class late
- There's nothing on TV
I've always known that I am privileged but as I bucket bathe in the mornings and eat dinner by latern-light, I realize just how lucky I am.
It's hard for me not to feel angry when I think about how America lives in excess. People here give ALL the can; they feel that they have given/tithed/etc because of the amount given. In the US, I feel that I give from excess. Do we give until it hurts? Do we open our homes to people or go out of our way to serve others? I can tell you that the people in Kenya do. Even if they can only afford a soda, they will serve you and even if they don't have any shillings to give to the church, they will give a chicken as a donation. This isn't to say that I think we all should live in poverty, but I think some mentalities (mine) should change. The next time you're internet goes out, just be glad you have access to it and your own computer! When you're stuck in traffic, thank God that you have the means to afford car payments, gas, and insurance. When you go to the doctor, don't complain about the wait but be blessed that you're going to get great care (believe me.... you don't want to go to the Chulaimbo Health Center). Again, this is not to say that we should sell all of our things... or that everyone should be called to African missions. I am going to thank God for the blessings and opportunities that I have and give back 'til it hurts. I will be more mindful of this when I return to the States and share my experience with others. To be honest, I'm not sure how to do this. Do I just encourage people with my own personal actions/changes I'll make to my life? Do I share my stories and reflections? Can anyone understand what I've been here? Will I get sucked back in quickly to an American lifestyle of consumerism? Will I grow bitter towards the US, my friends and family?
I don't know how my life will change upon returning to the States in a mere 2.75 weeks but I pray that I (and my team mates) are forever moved and changed for the better.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Second Chances
This past Tuesday the Umoja team met with several head teachers (which is a school principal in America), and community professionals to discussed how implement a program specifically for secondary girls (high school age girls in America) who are in school. For those who are unaware of the education procedures in Kenya, not all youth go to high school or secondary school. In grade 8, the students who go to school have to take an exam and receive a certain score that permits them to continue their education. Even if they receive the right score to continue, they are required to pay for their future education. There is no government support as the American have for education here in Kenya.
As we were discussing how to implement a program for the secondary girls who are sponsored by Umoja (meaning, Umoja pay school fees for students to continue their education. similar to a scholarship) an issue came into play. Some young girls end up facing tough experiences that are beyond their control. For example, some young teenage girls end up getting pregnant by a family member. Or there have been some cases in which a young girl finds in a relationship with a boy/man you clams to love her, at times gives her money that helps her to purchase materials that are needed to study in exchange for sex, she becomes pregnant and the boy/man claims that he does not know the girl and does not support the girl or the baby. To add fuel to the fire, there are some cases in which the young girl also contracts HIV/AIDS.
So our discussion was what do we do with these young girls who find themselves in this situation, for most secondary girls drop out of school if they become pregnant. There may be shamed by their family, father of the child may put or out. And if she is diagnosed with HIV, the communities shuns the young girl. We find our selves in conversation of where is the opportunity for a second chance? How can these young girls receive a second chance when their some of their situations are beyond their control? For if they drop out of school, they loose their spot as a secondary student and is replaced with a new student in regards to school fees being paid for the girl. How can we provide a second chance for these girls?
This bothered me much. For we serve a God of a second chance, but the believers of God have trouble giving second chances. This occurs in many cultures, not just in Kenya. We couldn't come to a place in which we could decided the solution for issues such as this, for time ran away from us. But we all agreed that this is problematic and something is needed to take place.
As I continued processing the conversations I thought of this scripture. Isaiah 43:18-19 says "Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old. I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you no perceive it?" (NRSV) I've came to understand that we as believers must forget the past, past disappointments, past sins, and not hold them against anyone or use the past to hinder someone to move on. And not only that, speak life and give hope to those who feel like they have no other chance. We have no right to judge. We should leave that to God, and find ways to help our brothers and sisters regardless of any circumstance. And even though we could not come up with a solution during this time a meeting, verse 19 of this chapter gave peace to my spirit. For I believe that God will do a new thing, provide a new program for these secondary girls who are questioning if they will receive another chance to continue their education. This new thing began with that one meeting, and it shall spring forth.
God is a God of second chances, third chances, 183 chances, that is why he sent his son to die for our sins. God also uses us to give second chances. Don't let stigmas keep you from being a vessel from God to give second chances or many more chances. We are the feet and hands of God sharing the love of Christ to those who are in need. I encourage you to remember that next time you come across someone who feels have if they have no more chances. That second chance may just begin with you!
Blessings~
p.s. I am aware of grammatical errors. I will correct them once I have more time on the internet. Just wanted to let you know~)
As we were discussing how to implement a program for the secondary girls who are sponsored by Umoja (meaning, Umoja pay school fees for students to continue their education. similar to a scholarship) an issue came into play. Some young girls end up facing tough experiences that are beyond their control. For example, some young teenage girls end up getting pregnant by a family member. Or there have been some cases in which a young girl finds in a relationship with a boy/man you clams to love her, at times gives her money that helps her to purchase materials that are needed to study in exchange for sex, she becomes pregnant and the boy/man claims that he does not know the girl and does not support the girl or the baby. To add fuel to the fire, there are some cases in which the young girl also contracts HIV/AIDS.
So our discussion was what do we do with these young girls who find themselves in this situation, for most secondary girls drop out of school if they become pregnant. There may be shamed by their family, father of the child may put or out. And if she is diagnosed with HIV, the communities shuns the young girl. We find our selves in conversation of where is the opportunity for a second chance? How can these young girls receive a second chance when their some of their situations are beyond their control? For if they drop out of school, they loose their spot as a secondary student and is replaced with a new student in regards to school fees being paid for the girl. How can we provide a second chance for these girls?
This bothered me much. For we serve a God of a second chance, but the believers of God have trouble giving second chances. This occurs in many cultures, not just in Kenya. We couldn't come to a place in which we could decided the solution for issues such as this, for time ran away from us. But we all agreed that this is problematic and something is needed to take place.
As I continued processing the conversations I thought of this scripture. Isaiah 43:18-19 says "Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old. I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you no perceive it?" (NRSV) I've came to understand that we as believers must forget the past, past disappointments, past sins, and not hold them against anyone or use the past to hinder someone to move on. And not only that, speak life and give hope to those who feel like they have no other chance. We have no right to judge. We should leave that to God, and find ways to help our brothers and sisters regardless of any circumstance. And even though we could not come up with a solution during this time a meeting, verse 19 of this chapter gave peace to my spirit. For I believe that God will do a new thing, provide a new program for these secondary girls who are questioning if they will receive another chance to continue their education. This new thing began with that one meeting, and it shall spring forth.
God is a God of second chances, third chances, 183 chances, that is why he sent his son to die for our sins. God also uses us to give second chances. Don't let stigmas keep you from being a vessel from God to give second chances or many more chances. We are the feet and hands of God sharing the love of Christ to those who are in need. I encourage you to remember that next time you come across someone who feels have if they have no more chances. That second chance may just begin with you!
Blessings~
p.s. I am aware of grammatical errors. I will correct them once I have more time on the internet. Just wanted to let you know~)
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Paradox of Suffering Savior
Shelter. Shepherd. Protector. Refuge. Shield. Savior.
Sufferer.
God promises protection…as well as suffering. He says to expect suffering because it is inevitable. So, what is God shielding me from, then? What exactly does this protection of His look like? Is He the rest and shield away from the suffering? Or in the suffering? His divine understanding of suffering is a shelter I quickly and desperately seek when I am feeling misunderstood and alone. A place of Truth in a world full of untruths. I do this because Jesus knows suffering. He knows suffering more intimately and intensely than I ever will…or am even capable of.
“Christ did not sin or ever tell a lie. Although he was abused, he never tried to get even. And when he suffered he made no threats. Instead, he had faith in God, who judges fairly…by His cuts and bruises you are healed…” (1 Peter 2:22-24)
Christ never did anything to warrant ridicule, betrayal, punishment, torture or death. And it was not just his enemies that causes Jesus pain, He was denied by those closest to Him in the moment He needed them the most. Jesus Christ knows suffering. He knows betrayal. He can intimately relate to the pain and suffering I encounter in this life, regardless of the suffering’s origin…because He lived it, and triumphed over it.
“God chose you to suffer as you follow in the footsteps of Christ, who set an example by suffering for you.” (1 Peter 2:12)
So, as I reflect on the suffering that has seemed utterly senseless, I choose to turn my eyes to Jesus. The one who understands. The one who knows. The one who gives me the strength to let go of my pride, my defenses, my ego and my expectations in order accept the suffering. To stop fighting or avoiding it. To sit in it. To wait in it. It is only when I stop and stay in one place that I am able to see my critical need for “shelter.” Only then, and there…in my waiting and accepting…am I able to understand God’s promise of being my safe refuge and protective shield.
Sufferer.
God promises protection…as well as suffering. He says to expect suffering because it is inevitable. So, what is God shielding me from, then? What exactly does this protection of His look like? Is He the rest and shield away from the suffering? Or in the suffering? His divine understanding of suffering is a shelter I quickly and desperately seek when I am feeling misunderstood and alone. A place of Truth in a world full of untruths. I do this because Jesus knows suffering. He knows suffering more intimately and intensely than I ever will…or am even capable of.
“Christ did not sin or ever tell a lie. Although he was abused, he never tried to get even. And when he suffered he made no threats. Instead, he had faith in God, who judges fairly…by His cuts and bruises you are healed…” (1 Peter 2:22-24)
Christ never did anything to warrant ridicule, betrayal, punishment, torture or death. And it was not just his enemies that causes Jesus pain, He was denied by those closest to Him in the moment He needed them the most. Jesus Christ knows suffering. He knows betrayal. He can intimately relate to the pain and suffering I encounter in this life, regardless of the suffering’s origin…because He lived it, and triumphed over it.
“God chose you to suffer as you follow in the footsteps of Christ, who set an example by suffering for you.” (1 Peter 2:12)
So, as I reflect on the suffering that has seemed utterly senseless, I choose to turn my eyes to Jesus. The one who understands. The one who knows. The one who gives me the strength to let go of my pride, my defenses, my ego and my expectations in order accept the suffering. To stop fighting or avoiding it. To sit in it. To wait in it. It is only when I stop and stay in one place that I am able to see my critical need for “shelter.” Only then, and there…in my waiting and accepting…am I able to understand God’s promise of being my safe refuge and protective shield.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Being an American in Kenya
We are honored guests here in Kenya. No matter if we are at a
church, school or home, we are welcomed more overwhelmingly here than I
have ever seen…let alone, experienced. The Kenyan adults stop what they
are doing to greet us, while the children leave their desks and run to
the windows and doors to catch a glimpse of the “Mzungus”
(westerners/white people). We are brought into the top official’s
office to be welcomed and given a meal or some other refreshment. We
are thanked more times than I could count…
None of us Divinity students are comfortable with such admiration, and pomp and circumstance. We are continually overwhelmed by the warm welcome and attention, as well as dumbfounded! What do they see that we don’t? Who is it that they think we are? We are just 4 grad students who are taking part in an international ministry.
We are representing the Umoja Project, yes. Umoja provides food, shelter, education and other kinds of support to this community’s orphaned and vulnerable children. The Umoja Project is amazingly helping thousands of children…but even that doesn’t necessarily give reason for such grand affair. Maybe it is the Kenya culture? They are very respectful and hospitable people by nature, but this is going to a whole new level! (I also think that theoretically if I were hosting an international guest in the U.S., I would of course give that guest the best seat at the table, plenty of our best foods and many thanks for their travels). The whole community never ceases to go out of their way to welcome us and give us the best of the best.
I wonder, what is it that we “mzungus” represent to the Kenyan people? Do the people just see the U.S. when they look at us? Are we money, power, or people of influence? Do we represent an envied way of life…a hope for a way of life with more opportunity? Or are we people with “more”…more technology, more belongings, more blessings? What assumptions about the U.S. and Americans do these Kenyan people have? Labeling us with their preconceived notions of the U.S. is a barrier that keeps us from truly knowing each other. The same can be said of our preconceived notions of them.
Some of the preconceived notions of the U.S. have already come to the surface at our homestays and when working with the Kenyan people. It seems as though the people think that we have these expectations of having a luxurious and comfortable stay while here in Kenya. They think that we are accustomed to getting what we want, when we want it. That we need to be constantly attended to…sadly, aren’t these beliefs understandable and warranted? Granted, us interns are not expecting to be served, cared for and comfortable…but in general, as Americans, we are accustomed to such a life. We have been trying to insist with our homestays that we want to do our own laundry, we want to help cook meals and we are appreciated of whatever food is served, but they still apologize if they think that we are not 100% happy or comfortable. It appears exhausting to host Americans, so I am grateful that our host family took on such a task…
When we arrive to a school for the first time the children stop what they are doing and stare. They watch our every move. What are they waiting for? What are they expecting that we will do or say? Most of the time when I wave or say hello, they wave back…however, some of the children are too stunned (or scared) to respond! There have been times that children will begin to follow me, but when I turn around and begin approaching them with an outstretched hand they run away. Could it be that they are scared of me? Curious? Intrigued? Or maybe a mixture of the 3? It is not until a courageous boy or girl accepts my offer of a handshake and a greeting that all the escapees quickly return for their very own handshake, high five or fist pump.
I wish the people could see Tiffany, instead of the American. Not the white skin, or the false ideas of who I am, but the real me. Then again…aren't these things a part of my identity? Maybe the Kenyan people can see sides of me more clearly than I ever will.
None of us Divinity students are comfortable with such admiration, and pomp and circumstance. We are continually overwhelmed by the warm welcome and attention, as well as dumbfounded! What do they see that we don’t? Who is it that they think we are? We are just 4 grad students who are taking part in an international ministry.
We are representing the Umoja Project, yes. Umoja provides food, shelter, education and other kinds of support to this community’s orphaned and vulnerable children. The Umoja Project is amazingly helping thousands of children…but even that doesn’t necessarily give reason for such grand affair. Maybe it is the Kenya culture? They are very respectful and hospitable people by nature, but this is going to a whole new level! (I also think that theoretically if I were hosting an international guest in the U.S., I would of course give that guest the best seat at the table, plenty of our best foods and many thanks for their travels). The whole community never ceases to go out of their way to welcome us and give us the best of the best.
I wonder, what is it that we “mzungus” represent to the Kenyan people? Do the people just see the U.S. when they look at us? Are we money, power, or people of influence? Do we represent an envied way of life…a hope for a way of life with more opportunity? Or are we people with “more”…more technology, more belongings, more blessings? What assumptions about the U.S. and Americans do these Kenyan people have? Labeling us with their preconceived notions of the U.S. is a barrier that keeps us from truly knowing each other. The same can be said of our preconceived notions of them.
Some of the preconceived notions of the U.S. have already come to the surface at our homestays and when working with the Kenyan people. It seems as though the people think that we have these expectations of having a luxurious and comfortable stay while here in Kenya. They think that we are accustomed to getting what we want, when we want it. That we need to be constantly attended to…sadly, aren’t these beliefs understandable and warranted? Granted, us interns are not expecting to be served, cared for and comfortable…but in general, as Americans, we are accustomed to such a life. We have been trying to insist with our homestays that we want to do our own laundry, we want to help cook meals and we are appreciated of whatever food is served, but they still apologize if they think that we are not 100% happy or comfortable. It appears exhausting to host Americans, so I am grateful that our host family took on such a task…
When we arrive to a school for the first time the children stop what they are doing and stare. They watch our every move. What are they waiting for? What are they expecting that we will do or say? Most of the time when I wave or say hello, they wave back…however, some of the children are too stunned (or scared) to respond! There have been times that children will begin to follow me, but when I turn around and begin approaching them with an outstretched hand they run away. Could it be that they are scared of me? Curious? Intrigued? Or maybe a mixture of the 3? It is not until a courageous boy or girl accepts my offer of a handshake and a greeting that all the escapees quickly return for their very own handshake, high five or fist pump.
I wish the people could see Tiffany, instead of the American. Not the white skin, or the false ideas of who I am, but the real me. Then again…aren't these things a part of my identity? Maybe the Kenyan people can see sides of me more clearly than I ever will.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Faith
Faith
“For We walk by faith and not by sight” 2 Corinthians 5:7
I’ve been in Kenya for almost three weeks. Within these three weeks I’ve learned how strong my faith is in God. If I didn’t have such strong faith, I would not even think about spending a long period of time in a culture I know little of. To be able to do such, I had to “walk” in this faith. I have to walk into the field education office at Duke to apply, I had to “walk” into the interview session with Susan Pendleton-Jones, Rhonda Parker, (Duke’s Divinity School field education directors) and Ellen Daniels-Howell (director of GIP), I even had to “walk” onto several planes to arrive to my destination which takes a lot of faith to travel over much water and land. If I walked by sight, I know I would not be experiencing Kenya for in this season of my life for the enemy would have distorted my vision, but I’ve learned that faith is more dominant than what we see, and faith in God overcomes all! Not only am I walking by faith, is the Kenyan culture that I am embracing so easily a wonderful example of believers who are walking by faith and not by sight! Some Kenyans have plenty food and resources and others are barely making through-out the day. But you would never see that within this culture because they ARE walking by faith. They speak of the goodness of God at all times; their praises to our mighty God are continuously flowing out of their months. Even when there are no words spoken out of their mouths, their faith is still evident and radiant by the smiles they show and the hospitality they give. They don’t look at the obstacles in their lives, they quickly acknowledge their faith in God by saying, “I have a father who will never ever fail me, rock of ages will never ever fail me”
“Now Faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen” Hebrews 11:1
As I looked at this culture more closely and look at myself even closer I realized that faith is the substance in which we are able to live period. How can I live without this substance? How can the Kenyan culture live without this substance? How can any believer live without this substance? If you really think about it, we can’t live without faith. And we truly can’t live without faith in God. It is what lies within me that caused me to walk onto all of those airplanes to travel from one continent to another and knowing that God will have me reached the destination that He ordained for me to reach. It’s the source in which the Kenyan culture works many hours out of the week, only to take some time off from working just to go to the house of the Lord to worship on their day of worship. This culture works so hard to provide for their families and while they are working so extremely hard, their smiles never leave their faces. Even when they cannot see the fruits of their labor in resources, or money, they are confident that the Lord’s provision is at work.
“And without faith it
is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that
he exists and the he rewards those who earnestly seek him.” (NIV) Hebrews 11:6
We as believers strive to please God in all we do. Whether
it is to help those who are in need, give encouragement to those who need to be
inspired, share a word from the Lord, or just give a hug to someone just to say
that we care, we do things such as this to please our God. I want the life that
I live to please the one I love most, who is the Mighty God, creator of the
world. The Kenyan culture has reminded me how the ways of God and the teachings
of Christ can be demonstrated in the life you live and the faith in God that
you show. The hospitality that I’ve received throughout my three weeks here
spoke volumes of this great culture and I felt the love of Christ every time I
was greeted by any young child, a family, a pastor, or a community member.
Christ gave all of himself so we can live a life that is pleasing to God. The
Kenyans give all they can give to have me feel welcomed and at home in their
culture. I know their acts of kindness, gratefulness, and love, are all truly
pleasing to God.
My faith, is stronger, not just because I’m walking more boldly in faith, not just because my faith in God is the substance and source of my life, but because of my encounter with God and his people of a this wonderful culture who reminded me that my life pleases God when I diligently seek him and listen to his commands in all I do and say! I encourage you my friends, to taking a moment in what ways are you walking by faith, to realize that your faith is truly the substance in which you live your life, and most of all, I encourage you to strive to live a life that is pleasing to God.
Blessings~
Mandy Haines
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Savior
How is it that several action packed days have passed (including moving
in to our home stays with our Kenyan families, going to our first worship
service in Kenya, and actually walking around in the community) and my
mind is still stuck on our home visits to several of the Umoja guardians
and students.
I'm stuck on the notion that I'm playing the role of savior. That there are people who view me as the one to save them. Who see me as the person who provides their child's meal at lunch each day, the one who funds the distribution of blankets and sanitary towels. When in fact, that isn't me at all. I'm a student; I haven't even donated to GIP or Umoja. Not only am I not the savior, I am unworthy of their praises for actions that are not my own.
How do I avoid getting wrapped up in this mentality that I can save people? That a donation or a gift that I can give will make a lasting change? How do I give in a way that points to Jesus as the savior? How do I step away from the idea of saving people from their situations and move more towards friendship - a friendship in Christ? A friendship that inspires us both, changes us both, grows the way we see God, and ultimately saves us both.
I'm stuck on the notion that I'm playing the role of savior. That there are people who view me as the one to save them. Who see me as the person who provides their child's meal at lunch each day, the one who funds the distribution of blankets and sanitary towels. When in fact, that isn't me at all. I'm a student; I haven't even donated to GIP or Umoja. Not only am I not the savior, I am unworthy of their praises for actions that are not my own.
How do I avoid getting wrapped up in this mentality that I can save people? That a donation or a gift that I can give will make a lasting change? How do I give in a way that points to Jesus as the savior? How do I step away from the idea of saving people from their situations and move more towards friendship - a friendship in Christ? A friendship that inspires us both, changes us both, grows the way we see God, and ultimately saves us both.
Sole to Soul
The point of the rock is sharp. It feels like it is puncturing the
protective skin that covers the bottom of my foot. I step again…and
this time the little pebbles of gravel feel like sandpaper. For the
first time I feel the pressure of my body weight on the bottom of my
feet. I am walking an uphill rocky trail barefoot. A spiritual
practice. A physical practice. Something to get me in physical
connection with the earth that lives beneath m, as well as something
that countless people are doing around me while here in Kenya. The
people do not have a choice….they do not have the luxury of owning
shoes. They run, walk, climb, jump and haul in bare feet. They do not
show signs of pain as they live their lives without shoes. Calloused?
Tolerant?
I commit myself to doing the entire hike without shoes, it is a 25 minute walk with hiking sandals on. Every step required my full attention. I was careful and intentional every time I laid my foot down on the dirt ground. Sometimes I knew when the pain of the rock was coming, and other times the piercing pain surprised the nerves of my body. I thought about quitting this whole practice several times…forget this, it hurts!! No, I am committed.
I could barely make it 15 minutes, while small children are living this way for their entire lives. I had never really spent much time thinking about this way of life…minus a few conversations about TOMS shoes maybe. As I prayed through my walk I gave full attention to God and to His creation beneath me…
I was stumbling along slowly when I heard a Kenyan woman shouting at me in the native luo tongue. She wanted to greet me so she stepped out of the thick vegetation with the world’s longest machete in her hand!! Machetes are commonly used to cut grass, dig and trim vegetation around the farm. She was the first woman I encountered in the local community that knew ZERO english…not even hello. I was in trouble! I don’t know what she was saying, all I know is that she was very, very passionate and insistent! She was looking at the sandals in my hand and looking at my bare feet in confusion. Why would I choose to walk in such a way when I have the luxury of shoes in my right hand?! I respected her concern and placed my hiking sandals back on my feet…disappointed that I could not complete my experiment, but secretly thanking her for relieving the soles of my feet!!
As I walked the remainder of my hike with my machete holding friend close behind me, I felt the cushion of my sandals like never before! They felt like a downcomforter hugging the bottoms of my feet. Oh, how I had a whole new deep appreciation for the protective shield of my shoes. A new bounce arrived to my step. I thought of how I would never have experienced this appreciation for what I already have had I not tried living without it.
Though the soles of my feet were no longer in direct contact with the soul of God’s creation…my soul was.
I commit myself to doing the entire hike without shoes, it is a 25 minute walk with hiking sandals on. Every step required my full attention. I was careful and intentional every time I laid my foot down on the dirt ground. Sometimes I knew when the pain of the rock was coming, and other times the piercing pain surprised the nerves of my body. I thought about quitting this whole practice several times…forget this, it hurts!! No, I am committed.
I could barely make it 15 minutes, while small children are living this way for their entire lives. I had never really spent much time thinking about this way of life…minus a few conversations about TOMS shoes maybe. As I prayed through my walk I gave full attention to God and to His creation beneath me…
I was stumbling along slowly when I heard a Kenyan woman shouting at me in the native luo tongue. She wanted to greet me so she stepped out of the thick vegetation with the world’s longest machete in her hand!! Machetes are commonly used to cut grass, dig and trim vegetation around the farm. She was the first woman I encountered in the local community that knew ZERO english…not even hello. I was in trouble! I don’t know what she was saying, all I know is that she was very, very passionate and insistent! She was looking at the sandals in my hand and looking at my bare feet in confusion. Why would I choose to walk in such a way when I have the luxury of shoes in my right hand?! I respected her concern and placed my hiking sandals back on my feet…disappointed that I could not complete my experiment, but secretly thanking her for relieving the soles of my feet!!
As I walked the remainder of my hike with my machete holding friend close behind me, I felt the cushion of my sandals like never before! They felt like a downcomforter hugging the bottoms of my feet. Oh, how I had a whole new deep appreciation for the protective shield of my shoes. A new bounce arrived to my step. I thought of how I would never have experienced this appreciation for what I already have had I not tried living without it.
Though the soles of my feet were no longer in direct contact with the soul of God’s creation…my soul was.
Music Therapy
Jambo, folks!
Today is our day off, so we came in to Kisumu to do a little grocery shopping and internet. So, I found it fitting to write a blog. Until last night, I did not have anything substantial to write about but that quickly changed.
Yesterday was a very long day filled with matatu rides, lots of walking, and meetings. At the end of the day, I was done. I started to get off my "high" from being in Kenya, as it started to set it that this was really our lives for the summer. I really just wanted to rest but eventually found myself in Mandy's room (like always). I was feeling so low and tired--thinking a lot about Kenya, the poverty, Umoja, our team here, and my family. Yesterday was also my best friend's birthday and I was sad not to be in South Carolina for that celebration. As I was laying there, Mandy put on some music. It had to have been God because it was the PERFECT song, one that I and the Duke Divinity Gospel Choir sang this past year. Here is the song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rc4Y7iZwoe8
This song just filled my heart with such joy and peace, I couldn't explain it. The song not only reminded me of how amazingly talented and wonderfully DDS friends are, but the song really grasps what I am trying to accomplish by being here (and in my life).
All I want to do is make God smile. I desire God to be pleased with me and my actions--knowing that I am living my life for the Lord. Everything I do, I want to do in the name of the Lord. And, that better is one day in God's house than thousands else where. It's amazing how many times per day we pray here, so I always feel that we are in God's house. It reminds me that God is working in Kenya and through Umoja and the Duke interns (and Kalamazoo, too!).
I really connect with music and I really feel God speak to me through music. In times of doubt and sorrow, I can be rejuvenated through music. So, I really feel as if God used Mandy to play that song in order to convey to me that God is with me through this experience.
How does God speak to or work through you?
Today is our day off, so we came in to Kisumu to do a little grocery shopping and internet. So, I found it fitting to write a blog. Until last night, I did not have anything substantial to write about but that quickly changed.
Yesterday was a very long day filled with matatu rides, lots of walking, and meetings. At the end of the day, I was done. I started to get off my "high" from being in Kenya, as it started to set it that this was really our lives for the summer. I really just wanted to rest but eventually found myself in Mandy's room (like always). I was feeling so low and tired--thinking a lot about Kenya, the poverty, Umoja, our team here, and my family. Yesterday was also my best friend's birthday and I was sad not to be in South Carolina for that celebration. As I was laying there, Mandy put on some music. It had to have been God because it was the PERFECT song, one that I and the Duke Divinity Gospel Choir sang this past year. Here is the song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rc4Y7iZwoe8
This song just filled my heart with such joy and peace, I couldn't explain it. The song not only reminded me of how amazingly talented and wonderfully DDS friends are, but the song really grasps what I am trying to accomplish by being here (and in my life).
All I want to do is make God smile. I desire God to be pleased with me and my actions--knowing that I am living my life for the Lord. Everything I do, I want to do in the name of the Lord. And, that better is one day in God's house than thousands else where. It's amazing how many times per day we pray here, so I always feel that we are in God's house. It reminds me that God is working in Kenya and through Umoja and the Duke interns (and Kalamazoo, too!).
I really connect with music and I really feel God speak to me through music. In times of doubt and sorrow, I can be rejuvenated through music. So, I really feel as if God used Mandy to play that song in order to convey to me that God is with me through this experience.
How does God speak to or work through you?
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Visiting the Home of 9 Orphans
We are told that the host wants to end our visit with a
prayer. I hear, “Let us pray.” So, with
eyes closed and head bowed I listen as a voice of fear and despair begins to speak
to God. Though I do not understand the
language being spoken, I do feel the desperation in the voice. I know that whatever the words, I am in
agreement with this fellow member of the Body of Christ who is suffering. As her shaky voice of prayers turns into heart
wrenching pleads and cries I begin to break.
The voice is that of a very elderly woman who is watching 9
orphans starve in her home. These children
are her grandchildren who have tragically ended up in her care because of the
death of their parents. As their
provider, the grandmother now has to live with the torment of knowing that she is the one failing them. She is the one who is unable to provide
enough food to sustain them. She is the
one responsible. Without the ability to
work because of her frail condition, how can she alleviate this crisis
situation? Throughout our home visit she
humbly asks over and over for food, confessing the agony she is enduring as she
watches her orphaned grandchildren go without food.
The prayer ends and all 10 of us visiting Umoja
representatives begin walking to the door to leave. I cannot believe my eyes! My heart is breaking. I want to scream, “What are we doing?! Wait…Stop!
We can’t just walk out of here as if this sister in Christ did not just
reveal her very grave need to us!! Are
we really just going to walk out of here as if we are leaving a church service,
or a meeting, or a damn grocery store?!”
I second guess myself by wondering if this reaction is the Holy Spirit’s
conviction, or just my naïve eyes to a grave society?
Then, I hear someone tell the woman to trust God because He
will make a way out of this. Trust God?! Of course she should trust God, I’m sure
she’s was trusting Him when she took in all 9 of those children. But, who’s to say that God did not intersect
this woman’s path with ours in order to
make a way out of this?
“What good is it, my
brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but do not have works? Can faith save you? If a brother or sister is
naked and lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace; keep
warm and eat your fill,’ and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is
the good of that? So faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead.” James 2:14-17
We have the
resources. Yes, I know that we cannot go
around giving to everybody…the need is too great and our resources do have
limits. However, I also believe God
brings specific people and situations into our lives in order to use us to do
His work. That is what we will be held accountable for. All I can do is be faithful to what God lays
out in front of me, and trust Him with the rest. So yes, Kenya has too much need for me to
help everyone…but I’m not sitting in everyone’s home and hearing everyone’s
stories. It is this grandmother of 9
starving orphans whose home I am sitting in.
It is my eyes that are seeing this woman’s tears, and it is my ears that are hearing her cries! God has crossed my path with hers, and so I
have a responsibility. How can we walk out?
I look around to the other faces in the room and they are
somber. We all feel the despair that
lives in this home, however no one else seems anxious to act on it now. We are turning our backs on 10 people…9 orphans…who we know with 100% certainty,
are going to go hungry tonight. How
deeply does God’s heart break as He watches us turn our backs…
“’Come, you that are
blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation
of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave
me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and
you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and
you visited me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when was it that we
saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink?
And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave
you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited
you?’ And the king will answer them,
‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are
members of my family, you did it to me.’”
Matt 25:34-40
Saturday, June 16, 2012
The Church
Yesterday we visited Marera Primary School to see the Umoja
school lunch program. From there Elizabeth and I joined Linda and Madame
Cipress (the LINK teacher at Huma Primary School). Together we did home visits.
We visited three guardians, all widows, and the children that they raised. The
experience was a beautiful and challenging. It was such a gift to see the homes
of the orphans, vulnerable children, widows, and guardians. I felt beyond
welcomed into their homes – their hospitality and openness was astounding. But
it was so challenging to walk into a home and see the faces of the children –
sometimes numbering seven or more in one home. Listening to an elderly woman who
attempts to feed and pay school fees for that many children stirred emotions
that can’t really be described. But to see her trust in God to provide is a
quality I can only hope that I can learn while here.
The home visits that we did yesterday filled me with joy and
apprehension. Looking at these lives that are so different from my own, all I
can ask is what is my role here? Why did God want me here? What do I have to
offer the Kenyans? From my brief stay here I can tell you many things that the
people of Kenyans have to offer me and teach me about life. But I’m still
wondering what my gifts are and where they factor in here.
But I was reminded of our first Sunday in Indianapolis; we
attended the early service at North UMC. It was youth Sunday, so I wasn’t
entirely sure what to expect. However, service was beautiful and provided me
with a great introduction to North. We heard one girl, a graduating senior,
speak of North as a place that allowed her to meet people from different walks
of life. How North taught her, not just about justice, but about the realities
of injustice. North challenged her to think and accepted her for her personal
thoughts, beliefs, and convictions. How North cherished and supported her
despite her unconventional approaches to faith. Her story was beautiful,
eloquent, and honest. It was not only a wonderful introduction to the church
that I am briefly interning at, it was a timely reminder of what the church is
called to be.
The church is called to educate – not just on the words of
scripture but on the action, passion, and drive behind the gospel. We are
called to accept all people – regardless of age, sex, race, ethnicity, belief,
sexual-identity, cultural practice, or any other matter. We are called to
serve. What a powerful message to receive from an eighteen year old. What a way
to start this journey.
Perhaps my role here is to learn from the Kenyans what a
hospitable church looks like. Perhaps it is to see the Umoja Project taking up
the call of the church – putting scripture into action and service. Perhaps I
am here to listen and to simply live among other Christians. But maybe my call
here is the same that it is in the US. Maybe I am called to be the church – the
church that truly educates its congregation and the world, the church that
accepts all people because they are the children of God, a church that engages
in service. I pray that through my time here I learn to better be the church. I’m
pretty optimistic about that.
Friday, June 15, 2012
Week One
Hello all!
The first week is coming to a close. We cannot believe it. We have been visiting many schools that are supported by the
Umoja project. So, we have met the principals, LINK teachers (those who connect
the students with Umoja staff with information) and the children who are
supported by the project. The children are vulnerable children (whose
parents don't make enough money to support them) and/or orphans are supported with
school lunches (sponsored by guardians and Umoja) and emergency equipment by
Umoja. There is a Kenyan team on the ground here that works with the teachers
and GIP in Indy. I think this is a great model for a NGO because they have many
Kenyans learning and running the processes here and the guardians (those who
take care of the orphans) are also responsible and are learning valuable,
income flowing, sustainable trades to have money. This is great! We also saw
similar things in Nairobi with beads and fabric. This is very important, especially
for women, to have skills (definitely if they are single mothers or widows) and
to feel valued and important- knowing they can take care of themselves.
I really love it here. I already feel comfortable here and it is very similar in ways to Latin America, where I have traveled a lot, but I feel that my experiences there have very well prepared me for this experience, especially seeing the poverty. I still have yet to internalize this and I’m not sure how I will do this but I’m currently taking it all in.
But it is so nice to be able to speak English, though many mainly speak Luo (and a lot of KiSwahili).
We have been meeting many people and trying to do some touristy stuff, as well. I am having a great time here and we will update soon! Homestays start on Monday!
I really love it here. I already feel comfortable here and it is very similar in ways to Latin America, where I have traveled a lot, but I feel that my experiences there have very well prepared me for this experience, especially seeing the poverty. I still have yet to internalize this and I’m not sure how I will do this but I’m currently taking it all in.
But it is so nice to be able to speak English, though many mainly speak Luo (and a lot of KiSwahili).
We have been meeting many people and trying to do some touristy stuff, as well. I am having a great time here and we will update soon! Homestays start on Monday!
p.s. Laura has been AMAZING!!!!!!!! And we’re excited to
Callie and Mariah very soon!
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