Unashamed

Last Wednesday the three interns were asked to lead a bible study for a Post-Test Group in the Missions of Hope Center. Post-Test Groups are groups of individuals who have completed HIV testing, and have received positive results.

So essentially, we were leading a bible study for about twenty people who were diagnosed with a deadly disease and were in varying stages of sickness.

While leading the study, I noticed a young girl, in her late teens I suppose, who was very sick. The right side of her body would spasm and twitch uncontrollably and she kept her right arm behind her back, clearly self-conscious about the condition. Being different from others is a devastating fate for a young teenage girl.

Despite her embarrassment and suffering, she had an eager and pretty smile, shyly took part in discussion, and giggled at the other group members' light-hearted joking. I was very moved by her.

On Sunday, I realized that this same girl was standing in the front row at the church I was attending. There she was, holding her right arm behind her, not quite able to hide the tremors.

 But her left hand was high in the air, unashamed, worshipping Jesus, reaching out to her Father. She sang with joy because she could see that God would meet her where she was, that he would not see a positive HIV test, or a body broken by disease. She sang because she knows that she is a child of God, that she is beautiful and precious in his eyes.

It is easy to be overwhelmed with the enormity of Mathare Valley, but when I saw this girl singing, God reminded me that nothing is too big for him. He is both powerfully changing African poverty on a large scale, and personally, gently changing the heart of one shy Post-Test girl who knows more about the acceptance of the Cross than most ever will.

Prayers from Mabatini

Yesterday we shoveled raw sewage. A week ago we met some cool guys from Mabatini Village who invited us to their monthly clean-up sponsored by Missions of Hope's CHE program. This group comes together on the last Saturday of every month and unclogs the main trench that runs through the village. Weeks of sewage and decomposing trash fill these trenches, leaving the water stagnant and toxic. Without thinking through the situation fully, we picked up old rakes and began helping to clear out the filth.

This was probably the grossest thing I have ever done. All of us girls almost got sick on multiple occasions, but thankfully didn't.
As I was showering later in the day, my heart was so heavy; I scrubbed myself furiously, still feeling sick to my stomach, almost to the point of breakdown after being exposed to such filth. I needed to distance myself, maybe watch a movie, or talk with my room mates- anything to cope and forget what I had seen.
I kept thinking about the children. The children who played in the trash near where we were working have no way of escaping. The village is their home. As a 23 year old, I could barely wrap my head around the poverty for a few hours, and they are forced to experience it every second of their lives. But God, how could this be your plan for little babies?

This weekend is the first time I have begun to understand the heavy, unmoving, dark word that is Poverty. The last few days have been a time of reluctant, painful growth. They have been a time of clinging to Christ, using his Strength as the only way to comprehend walking back into the Valley tomorrow morning, and drawing on his Hope to see a better future for the little children.
Proverbs 23:10b-11

Soccer Balls and Granola Bars

In the past 48 hours, we have said goodbye to two pretty remarkable short-term teams from the U.S. 


Traders Point hung out with the children at Bondeni and Joska and did amazing chalk art, crafts, and football camps. I have attended Traders Point since I was about 5 years old, and it lifted my spirits to see their faces and feel their love and support. They will be greatly missed.

Brittany directs students. TPCC left jerseys, cleats,  and soccer balls.

FAME (Fellowship of Associates of Medical Evangelism) are flying out tonight. All of us interns became very close with this special little group of eight. Their sense of humor, freshness and enthusiasm were such a great encouragement. Yesterday, we triaged patients for them during the last day of their medical camp at Kosovo school. In the time they were here, they provided medical care to over 600 people. Almost as noteworthy is the fact that they left us a stash of American snacks, including the much loved peanut butter chocolate chip granola bar. Their ministry blew us away.

Steve from FAME feeds a student cake during their Goodbye Ceremony

I can't wait to meet the other teams that come. God is bringing such beautiful people to this Valley.

Learning Environment?

I recently sat in on Swahili lessons in Class 4 ( 4th Grade) in the main Missions of Hope school. This photo shows 3 pieces of wood, very thin and not tall enough to touch the ceiling, which are the only things dividing classrooms from one another. It was almost impossible for me to concentrate on the lesson, with the voice of the Swahili teacher competing with the teachers and students standing just feet away in the other classrooms. Concrete walls would provide a more quiet environment for the pupils to learn in, but such things are not always possible in Kenya.

Mathare Valley Terms

Glue boys: Homeless boys who live in the slums and sniff shoe glue as a means to get high. With brains forever damaged by this toxic substance, they are mentally and physically impaired, unpredictable, and dangerous to the community

Flying Toilets: Because public restrooms cost money, and the 10X10 ft shanties don't have plumbing, many people use plastic bags as toilets and leave them on the ground in the slums.

Mother Tongue: Educated Kenyans speak English, but many people living in the slums only speak Swahili and their ancestor's tribal language- their mother tongue.

Mzungu: "Crazy White Person." Citizens from Mathare call all the interns this. At one time offended, I now readily answer to it.

Photo from Day 1

Photo taken during our first tour of the Pangani Village in the Mathare Valley

I just tried to upload a few pictures, holding my laptop over my head in an attempt to get internet access. This is the only photo that actually downloaded, but is a good representation of what the cute kids look like, always running towards us yelling "How are you, how are you?" in sing song voices. They have grown up in the slums and these are the only English words they know. Many of the children are barefoot, with protruding bellies- the universal sign of extreme malnutrition. They hold our hands and walk with us as we work.

Thoughts on Chai

In Kenya, people take Chai. Taking Chai is a cultural ritual in which people talk and drink tea as a group after breakfast, upon arrival at work, before everyone leaves work, and then again at dinner. Kenyan Chai tea consists of fresh warm milk-straight from a local cow, water, tea leaves and sugar cain. Taking Chai lasts atleast an hour, and is mandatory before any work can get started, or before anyone is allowed to leave work at 4pm. Chai is too strong, too sugary, and by most Americans' standards, a complete waste of time. Many times, I have found myself asking why I have seen people taking Chai while important business or pressing matters are piled up at the Missions of Hope Center. 

 In America, we put work before friendship most every day...and we get a lot done. But at the expense of what? So I must ask myself, is this Kenyan time of fellowship and tea drinking unproductive? Or is it a form of worship, a model of Christ's call for us to be relational and devoted to one another in brotherly love?