Day 49 - Black & White

August 29, 2012 (Sam)

      The problems that we, as Americans, struggle with on a day-to-day basis are so different from what the people here in Kenya are struggling with. It’s really black and white.

      Matthew Sleeth recalls an instance in which he asked a room full of 6th graders if they thought they were rich. None of them did. After further questioning, it was revealed that they all lived in houses their parents owned, their families all owned at least one car, multiple computers and televisions, and all but two had ridden in an airplane. And yet none of them considered themselves to be rich. But, Sleeth points out, “At the point at which people have their own home, enough food to eat, clothing to wear, running water, a sanitary sewage system, a television, a computer, and the ability to ride in an airplane, they are in the top 20 percent of the world’s inhabitants.”

      Today, as I was walking around Ongata Rongai, I ran into a lady who Christina and I have come to know fairly well over the last month or so. She is a hard-working, dedicated, and joyful mother of four. I asked her how her day was going. One thing that I love about Kenyans is how they can be brutally honest without ever once complaining. Her eyes rolled up to meet mine and a huge smile spread across her face. “Not good.” She replied, “There’s no food. I am hungry. I’ve not eaten all day. I didn’t eat last night. Before Anthony (her 3 year old son) went to bed, he kept asking me if he could have something to eat. What could I tell him? We have no food. What do I do? I can’t do anything. There is no food.”

      And the crazy part about it is that this woman is not lazy; she works every day until her feet blister and her shirt is soaked in sweat. She doesn’t want or expect handouts; she wants to work to earn a living. But what can she do? When there’s not enough money for food, then there is no food.

      If I were to compile a list of the last 5 complaints I’ve verbalized, they’d probably go something like this:

1. My computer’s battery doesn’t last for more than an hour when the power goes out
2. Before drinking water, I have to make sure it’s been boiled
3. My socks get so dirty here I have to change them twice a day
4. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night outside the bug net with a hungry mosquito exploring the inside of my ear
5. I hate writing blogs and yet here I sit, writing another one

      I think that an honest evaluation of the “hardships” that I endure quickly lead me to the conclusion that I have been blessed. Immensely. There is no doubt about the fact that I have been given much. Or to put it better, I have been entrusted with much. Now the question remains, what will I do with what I have been entrusted with? Because based on what I’ve read, “From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.” (Jesus speaking).

      So, what do I do about this situation? I think the answer is pretty black and white.

Day 39 - Good Samaritans & Video #2

August 19, 2012 (Sam)

      We've posted another video below to show you what church here in Kenya is like for us.

      In the book Wild Goose Chase author Mark Batterson shared a research project that captured my attention. A study was conducted by two Princeton University Psychologists that focused on the story of the Good Samaritan. First, each seminary student chosen to be part of the research was asked why he wanted to go into ministry. The primary response the students gave was that they wanted to help people. Half of the students were then given the assignment to prepare a sermon on the Good Samaritan; the other students were assigned various topics. Once the assignment was completed, the student was then told to go to a certain building on campus to present their sermon.

      But there was a set up that would take the students by surprise. An actor was hired to portray someone who was mugged and left beat up in an alley. Each student would have to pass this alley. And there was one additional variable introduced by the researchers. Some of the seminarians were told to hurry because they were running late and the others were told to take their time because they were early.

      The researchers uncovered a surprising result. Each student was confronted with what seemed to be a real life situation of someone in need. Only 10% of the students who were told that they were late stopped to help. 63% of the students who were told that they had extra time stopped to help.

      The researchers concluded that it didn’t matter if your life goal was to help people or not. What mattered most was if you had the time and were not in a hurry. The words, “You’re late” turned ordinarily compassionate people into people who were indifferent to suffering.

      “This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters. If anyone has material possessions and sees a brother or sister in need but has no pity on them, how can the love of God be in that person? Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth.” (1 John 3:16-18)

Day 33 - Six Years of Tears

August 13, 2012 (Sam)

      Six years ago, during my first trip to Kenya, a little 3-year old girl named Grace ran into my life and stole my heart. She was one of the sweetest little girls I’d ever met in my life. She had plump little brown cheeks, and braids full of beads that clicked together when she ran. She had the worst pouty face I’d ever seen and with one look could have convinced me to bring her the world on a platter. Her mother worked at Beacon of Hope as a seamstress, so every day, she would bring Grace with her to work, and every day, Grace would end up in my arms, clinging to my neck, threatening tears if I ever even indicated that I might set her down. It broke my heart the last time I saw her, hand-in-hand with her mother, walking away from Beacon on our last day there. Occasionally, she’d turn around, wrench her arm out of her mother’s grip, and wave back at me. I was crying.

      Today, Grace’s mother still works at Beacon of Hope. A few days after arriving, I went and found her and brought her some photos of Grace and I taken six years ago. I could tell it meant the world to her. Grace is now 9, she told me, far too old to attend school at Beacon Academy anymore. “Tell her I said hello and please show her the pictures,” I asked. She promised she would.

      Today, Monday, Christina and I were walking around Beacon’s campus after work and we ran into Grace’s mother again. She excitedly told me that Grace was here today; she’d come to Beacon’s clinic to be treated after a terrible day of stomach sickness. But she insisted that I go up and visit her anyway. Suppressing a dead sprint, I trotted toward the top of the hill with Christina in tow, and from a ways off, I could make out a young girl, very thin, with no shoes and wearing dirty clothes walking towards us. We got closer and her shy brown eyes locked with mine. It was Grace. Much taller now, much thinner, much more grown up, but still the same sweet little girl. I bent down. “Grace?” I asked, “Yes,” she replied softly. “I’m Sam. Do you remember me? Did your mom show you the pictures I gave her?” “Yes,” she replied again quietly. I just looked at her for a few minutes.

      Back at the bottom of the hill, we sat and talked with her mother for a few minutes. I asked how their family is doing, and with obvious pain in her voice, she replied, “God is good. He is faithful. But it is very hard. I have three [children], and sometimes we have no food. Grace faints when she doesn’t get enough to eat. She gets sick often. The other day she fainted on the road and a stranger found her and brought her here. The money is so hard. I work but it is still hard providing. We need to find money for her school fees. If you can find a way to have her school fees paid for... we need it.”

      We start walking back up the hill towards the gate together. Grace was in front of me, and I could see her, visibly weak, so thin, sick, wearing her mother’s tattered purple shoes, four sizes too big for her, over her cracked, swollen feet. I stepped up next to her and told her that because of the hard day she’d had, I thought it would be better if she were carried up to the gate. A smile spread across her face and she pulled her arms around my neck. She is so light. We trudged up the hill, Grace in my arms, me holding back tears. Every time I stepped on an unstable rock her grip around my neck would tighten. When we were almost to the gate, she leaned her head back and whispered in my ear, “I saw the pictures. You used to carry me like this.” We walked on together in silence, my vision obscured by tears. We got to the gate far too soon, and I told Grace that anytime she comes back to visit, she has a free ride waiting. She smiled. And left. We walked home, went inside, and I was finally able to do what I had wanted to do for the last 30 minutes. I cried. Again.

Day 30 - Video #1

August 10, 2012

      We put together a short video of shots taken in and around Nairobi, Kenya. Enjoy!
View it below.

Thanks for reading!

Day Twenty Five - Help & Hope

August 5, 2012 (Christina)

      It is very hard to describe the overwhelming realization of the reality of the hope and love that we have in Jesus when you are in a small, cramped room with a woman who is bed ridden by tuberculosis, who is smiling from ear to ear thanking you over and over for coming to her home to visit her. What’s even harder to process is when she fights with all her strength to sit up in bed so that she can look you right in the eye and tell you that she has faith that she will walk again soon.

      Today, Sam and I, along with two friends that we met over here from Blackhawk Church in Madison, WI, John and Rebecca, had the opportunity to go on a few home visits with one of Beacon of Hope’s Community Health Workers (CHW). A home visit usually involves a Beacon staff member or CHW going to a patient’s house to drop off medication, check on the patient’s wellbeing, or just stop by to encourage them.  Ann (not her real name) was the CHW who we tagged along with this day. We asked Ann why she decided to become a CHW in the first place. Ann’s humble and gracious spirit opened up and she poured out her heart. When Ann first came to Beacon three years ago, she was not the healthy, full-figured woman who stood before us today. She was deathly sick, infected with human immunodeficiency virus (HIV), and weighed only 66 pounds. As she lay in bed covered in a rash, her fever soaring, and rapidly losing weight, Ann made God a promise: if he healed her, she would help others in her situation. The staff at Beacon helped nurse her back to health, and when she regained her strength, put back on some weight, and started taking ARVs (antiretrovirals are medications taken for the treatment of HIV), she made good on her promise. For the last year and a half, Ann has been bringing the same hope and help that she received through Beacon to others in her community.

      We walked through Ongata Rongai with Ann, stopping in at the homes and workplaces of many people who’s lives have been transformed after getting involved at Beacon. We went to three businesses that were only made possible by God’s grace through micro-loans facilitated by Beacon of Hope, and we met two commercial sex workers who were both HIV positive and still active in the community.

      One of the women we visited, Sarah (also not her real name), had recently opened a tailoring business because of a loan she got through one of Beacon’s programs that works to empower entrepreneurs. The entire time we were there, Sarah did not stop praising God for providing for her and blessing her with her business. Sarah started her tailoring business a few months ago and is a busy, single mother of three; she also is a CHW through Beacon. Though her workspace was not bigger than a small closet, and she admitted that business was slow and she was having trouble paying her children’s school fees, Sarah was obviously grateful and joyful about her circumstances. This woman had a heart for the Lord that was so genuine. 

      The second woman we visited was Mary (also not her real name), who is bedridden by Tuberculosis. When we first arrived at Mary’s home, we were greeted by her daughter Elizabeth, who warmly welcomed us inside. We were told we could not go back to see Mary right away because Elizabeth was in the middle of changing her diaper. Mary has TB in her spine, which has rendered her legs useless. She has not left her bed in two months. We waited in the living room for a few minutes while they finished up. When we went back to see Mary, she was lying in bed, under a thin blanket, with a smile on her face that lit up the room. All five of us greeted her and she invited us to sit down around her to visit. She didn’t speak English, so Rebecca, who is fluent in Swahili, did most of the talking. Rebecca told her that Obama sent his greetings, which sent Mary into a fit of laughter. Many Kenyans, regardless of what they know about his politics, love Obama. Mary is currently undergoing treatment for her TB; she is in her second of six months of treatment and has been confined to her bed since treatment started. As she fought to sit up, she told us with great joy that she has faith that she will be able to walk again. After some more encouragement, John closed with a prayer, and we said our goodbyes. Mary invited us to come back again soon, and told us with confidence that that next time we see her, she should be up and walking. We walked out with Mary’s daughter, and as we’re stepping through the gate we heard a voice behind us and looked back. Elizabeth was standing against the side of the house, a huge, proud, loving smile on her face, and she said, “That’s my mom.”

      Leaving Mary’s home I am hopeful. And full of joy. Today I saw Jesus’s hope and love in that tiny, dark room. I saw a woman who had every right to be angry because of her situation; but she wasn’t, because of hope and faith. Mary believes that she will walk again soon. But more than faith in healing, Mary believes that God is in control of her situation. I believe that one day she will walk again, because I know that Mary believes.  Over and over again here in Kenya I am amazed at what God is doing through Beacon of Hope. This organization is a vessel through which the compassion and love of Jesus are manifested in such powerful, life-changing ways. I never could have imagined that I would be able to see the love of Christ in this way. But I guess that’s what makes him the one “who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us.” “To him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.” (Eph 3:20)