Abundant Life

We had finished nightly devotions, and they dashed off to brush their teeth. Then she climbs in bed saying, "Auntie pray with me!" I knelt down by her bed, and she held my hand tightly. As she prayed specifically for each person that came to her little mind, my mind raced back to the day I heard her story.

The line in her chart for the reason of admittance bluntly read,

"Failure to thrive."

Abandoned by a mother whose hands were tied by severe poverty, she felt the best thing to do was endure the heartache of leaving behind her precious baby girl. Hoping against hope that somewhere, someone with a tender heart would find her treasure, yet she walked away not knowing what would become of her little blessing.

Perhaps in the pain of the moment, it slipped the mind of this desperate mother that there is One who takes particular notice of those who have grief and trouble. Maybe she didn't realize that there is a good Father who lays a charge on Himself to protect each one of his lambs, seeing each of their distresses and caring deeply for those that are wounded.

But while the Shephard was on His way to rescue his precious lamb, the harsh natural elements, lack of food and proper shelter gradually stripped the life away from this wee one. Tired of searching for what seemed unavailable, wearily she laid down. Just before the last few breaths slipped from her frail body, Someone walked up, knelt down, and lifted her into His arms.

In the proceeding days, this lamb proved to have fighting powers that exceed human explanation. Prayers for her full recovery stormed the throne room of heaven as hands and hearts were wide open waiting to love and give this beloved one a warm home. After a few delayed homecomings, the day finally arrived, and hope began as one more precious child came home to belong forever.

Jolt! Her sweet voice brought me back to the present.

Now here she lay in front of me full of life and all things pink. She has learned how to walk, how to talk, how to live. She has learned to hug and love and trust.  She is learning about the Good Shephard who rescues lives that are lost and deeply wounded. She is learning that there is one who comes to kill, steal, and destroy, but that there is One who is oh so powerful and mighty, and He gives life and gives it to the fullest. And as the scars of those fateful days slowly heal, because love is like a smooth salve over deep wounds, she is learning to pray for others whose lives are in need of being rescued by the Shephard.

She is not only learning, but she is also teaching.

She is teaching us that no person is too far gone -no life is beyond hope. She is teaching us that no matter how much the thief steals and destroys he can never take more life than Jesus gives back. And she is teaching us that when Jesus gives life back, He gives it so abundantly that we can spend our days running, laughing, and loving others in the fullest way possible.

New Soles

It was a typical Thursday at Ngungi Primary School. All 532 students were present because it was exam week meaning only a few more days and the school would be out for term break. However, the day quickly turned into an unusual one when some visitors showed up. It was lunch time, and everyone had their bowl of beans and maize. Some suddenly appeared to forget about their food as the expressions on their faces seemed to say, "Look! The visitors have a muzungu with them!"

After chatting a few moment with one of the teachers and learning what life is like for a rural Kenyan school, she gave us a tour of the classrooms and boarding facility. As we walked from classroom to classroom, many of the students whose uniforms held marks of significant wear and tear and whose feet were shoeless eyed me questioningly and with standoffish glances.

"Who is this girl?" "What is she doing here?" "Can we trust her?"

Spotting a group of students standing by the edge of the school building, I drew closer. They inched back. I knelt down and held out my fist for a bump in an attempt to let them know it was safe to come close if they wanted too. A few brave, shoeless souls held out their fist... Bump! our worlds collided for the first time. It didn't take long until I was surrounded by hundreds of fists and high fives -I had happily begun to win their trust.

After several photos, many more high fives, and hundreds of shouts of farewell we loaded up and drove off leaving these precious children in our dust. Not knowing if I would see them again didn't stop me from leaving pieces of my heart with them. However, it was soon to become evident that four short days would find us back with these dear ones. But this time, we would have a car loaded to capacity with something that they hadn't asked for but needed...

SHOES!

Because many of you have generously given your five loaves and two fishes to God by supporting His name being proclaimed among the nations, Saturday found our team of four purchasing shoes for the multitude of children that attend Ngungi Primary School. We could not wait for Monday to come so that we could make all 532 kids proud owner of perhaps their first pair of shoes. Oh, what a joy it is to be a channel!

Words cannot accurately explain the celebration that awaited our arrival on Monday afternoon, nor can photos capture the glee and delight of everyone present as feet were washed and shoes fitted. My eyes brimmed with tears of joy as the children danced and sang out their heart which brimmed with gratitude. When you see, experience people celebrating over receiving something you've always taken for granted it changes the way you view life.

As I think back over the past several days, I can't help but see Jesus. I see Him coming to us upon no request visit that we've made to Him. I see him kneeling down and invited us to draw closer, holding out His hand as a token to come as we are -worn, torn, and shoeless. He sees the greatness of our needs and chooses to meet them all on His terms with no cost to us. Jesus invites us to sit down and let Him wash our feet, our heart, our soul. And after He is done cleaning us thoroughly, scrubbing away even the darkness of sin stains, He reaches over and grabs a pair of shoes that are made to last for an eternity. As He slips them on our feet, he looks us in the eye with great tenderness and lovingly whispers, "No good thing do I withhold from those who walk uprightly. Walk now in my paths and experience the joy that being made new brings."

   

From Arkansas to Kenya -Part 2

Passport? Check!
Clothes? Check!
Shoes? Check!
Personal Items? Check!

The list went on. It was January 11, 2016, and the time had come to make sure everything I would need for the next two months was packed. In just a couple of hours, I would be on my way back to Kenya to serve at Naomi's Village for eight weeks.

I was brimming with excitement, yet there was a weird lump in my throat as we took to the air. What all would the next two months hold? In what ways did God want to grow me?

Honesty isn't always easy, but it's a freeing and beautiful way that God has designed for us to be emptied of the lies that we believe and hold tightly to so that we can be filled with the Truth that sets us free. These next few paragraphs are going to be some of my raw feelings and emotions as I spent sixty-two incredible days in Kenya.

 The first several weeks back in Kenya and at Naomi's Village were filled with getting to know the fantastic team of people who dedicate their lives to raising children who will grow up to lead their beautiful country. Each day proved to be a blessing as I worked alongside this amazing community of house moms, cooks, teachers, and directors but I had a mindset that needed reshaping -a mindset that can be toxic to short and/or long-term missions experiences.


As the days passed, I began to realize that I had a defective mentality that seems to permeate the American mind. It is the mentality that serving among the nations is a lifestyle where most days are filled with miraculous moments of redemption and heaven-come-to-earth occurrences.  It's the idea that the command "Go ye and make disciples of all nations." is more relevant and important if you obey by serving thousands of miles from your motherland. While the first of these views may hold a bit of truth, here are a couple of things that eight weeks serving at Namoi's taught me.

1.) It is simply a privilege to serve others in the name of Jesus.
If we want to think miraculous, it's the fact that the Creator of the universe would invite me, you, to share and live out His story of redemption. It's not the work that makes it miraculous. It's the fact that such a Master would call workers who are a work in progress themselves.

2.) God does not measure our obedience by the things that we do but by our heart posture towards what He has asked of us. In God's eye obedience is obedience. There really is no such thing  as "big" obedience and "small" obedience before God. Our Father looks at my heart attitude towards what He has asked of me -will I be faithful with what He has summoned me to do!? God is not so much concerned about our geographical location as He is about at our heart posture and faithfulness in the task He has given us to do.

As I began to learn these truths in a greater way, the weeks turned into a month, and I had the privilege to revisit Wells of Joy Ministries. It is always amazing how God so often works and clarifies His invitation to us -the invitation to step deeper into the glorious plan He designed for each of His children before the creation of the world.

The weeks leading up to going to Kenya and even the weeks that followed after I was there, I was kind of nonchalant about revisiting Wells of Joy. But that all began to change the morning we were to spend the day at the ministry. The indifference that I had felt over the past few months started to be replaced with happy anticipation for what the day held. After driving through thick traffic for a couple of hours, we arrived at the entrance of the slums and waited for the ministry director, Pastor Geoffrey Mutunga, to escort us in. As we walked along the narrow road scattered with bits of trash, dodging mud puddles, it was like God was flipping back on every emotion that seemed to have been shut down. The emotion that I was feeling the strongest was the same one that was most predominant the first time...

Doing nothing about what I was seeing, touching, walking among was NOT an option.

But what was I suppose to do? What was my response going to be? How might I get more involved with being a voice for the voiceless who call such a dark and hopeless place home?

You might have a good idea of the answer to those questions, but I'll share a bit of the arduous heart journey that leads to some of those questions being answered in other post. Stay tuned for part 3.