August 19, 2010
Dear Family and Friends,
I have returned from Africa and have just recently been able to begin to process the sights, sounds and experiences that I had the privilege to come in contact with. It definitely was a lot to take in and absorb. In addition, the day after my return I went in for some major wrist reconstruction and have been in a full arm cast for the past 8 weeks. I have written this many times in my head. I pray that I can communicate what is inside of my heart.
On June 5, I got up at 3:30 am. I did some laundry, putzed around the house, took a shower and got ready. Then, Todd said to me “Get your butt and stuff in the truck.” As we drove to Country Suites on the east side of Green Bay I experienced about 15 seconds of nervousness and thinking to myself “What am I doing?” Ten minutes later we were at our meeting place. We loaded the bus and hit I-43 towards Chicago. Todd traveled on I-43 until he got to his turnoff. When he exited I-43 I realized that there was no turning back. A tear dropped down my face and I prayed. I realized that I was going to be experiencing an adventure of a lifetime. I said “Here we go God!”
We arrived in Nairobi about 10:00 pm, their time. We had just traveled for approximately 19-20 hours and most slept in the airports and on the plane. As we prepared to land in Nairobi we traveled over a large expanse of darkness surrounded by many fires. We didn’t know it at the time but the large expanse of land was the National Game Preserve and the fires were from the slums in Nairobi. We would become familiar with the slums in less than 12 hours.
Our accommodations in Nairobi were at a place called African Heart. It was an absolutely lovely and wonderful location with beautiful surroundings. African Heart is a place where missionaries stay either on the short term, like us, or for those missionaries that are in transition between their homeland and finding permanent housing in Nairobi. This is the place where we would eat and sleep for two nights and one day. We are told to be ready to board the bus no later than 5:00 am.
On, Monday, we have an opportunity to do a very brief tour of the National Game Preserve. I meet one of the workers there who is sweeping the sidewalk and parking lot with a very small broom. She is hunched over and it’s obvious she has done this work for a very long time. It is how she makes her living. Realize though, that the broom she is using is basically a plant type material similar to straw that is tied together on the upper part of the handle. She is excited to see these strange white people and we visit for maybe 15 minutes. Sweeping is what she is paid to do. However, she tells me that she has friends in America. We talk about this for a while and then I realize that she is considering me her friend in America. She wants my name and address so she can write me. We had been advised, by the team leaders, to never give this information out as it makes the team vulnerable and puts everyone at risk. Therefore, I can not accommodate this request. She asks me about America and then very boldly asks me if I would take her back with me to America. It grieves my heart to have to leave her behind.
We leave the game preserve and head to New Life Center where the babies and toddlers are. To get there we must drive through the city. I have never seen such traffic and disorganization in driving. Everyone pretty much drives where and however they want. At times we were on the wrong side of the road. The bus barely slows down for anything or anybody. It is early morning so everyone is on their way to work. As many cars as there were, there were many more people. I remember thinking where do these people work and where are they all going.
We go down the roads and poverty and wealth live and work side by side. We see open vendors on the streets. We see little children walking alone. We see beggars that are paralyzed and whose only means of any type of income is through the giving of someone else. We learn as we go that the city is getting ready for Vice-President Biden to visit. Everywhere we go we see garbage. We drive past the slums and the stench is overwhelming. We do not realize yet that in a very short time we will experience them first hand. The further into the city we get the worse the conditions become. We see high secured walls and drives. Most businesses, churches, hotels, etc. have their own security. In order to get in you need to be expected or have clearance. Then we begin to drive on the outskirts of the slums. We pull into a driveway and are greeted by security. We are allowed in. As we enter we see the sign that says New Life Center. We have arrived at the place that I thought was going to be the toughest to leave. I find out within less than 1 ½ hours that this is not the case.
We enter into the New Life complex. We are surrounded and greeted by exceptional beauty. It is such a contrast to what lies directly outside their walls. The staff is primarily women. We are given a brief overview of what New Life does and how it operates. Once babies are brought there, they don‘t leave until they are adopted. The adoption process is quite stringent. The staff is phenomenal. There is so much love within those walls. Those babies lack for nothing even though they don’t appear to have much. They are loved, their health needs are addressed, and they are fed, clothed and protected. Just in the short time that we are there I realize that these babies are in the best possible place they could be.
Even though the babies are abandoned there is quite often occasion where tribal differences can create great risks and violence. Therefore, for the child’s protection, New Life give the babies a new name, birth date and a new past. They are given a new identity. In so doing they also have opportunity for a new future that is filled with hope and a shot at a new life. What a picture of what Jesus does for us well when we seek His forgiveness. God settles the dispute, gives us a new name, a new birthday, and a new identity. God wipes out the past and gives us a future full of hope.
I get to hold little Toby. He smiled the entire time and laughed at me. I laughed, smiled, prayed and wept over this precious little one who has already traveled a life time in his few short months. I am privileged to hold him, feed him, and place him down for his nap. We leave New Life after only a few short hours. Whereas, I thought I would cry, I rejoice at the life that those precious little ones have through New Life Center. I went feeling sorry for the babies. I left thankful and with great gratitude for the future that these little ones now have. New Life demonstrates the hope of Jesus Christ for the nations.
We leave New Life and go to a place called World Hope Academy. This is a Mission of Mercy school and child development center. As the bus pulls in we see lots of little faces peeking at us out the doorway. As we walk through their multi functional facility I wonder where the children went. I knew they hadn’t come out but yet I didn’t see them. I glance over to the sides of the room and notice partitions with curtains around them. Underneath the curtains I see little feet and faces peeking out at us. I then realize it is nap time and even though we were there, they still had to adhere to their scheduled nap. I giggle inside. We walk through the landscape and come to an open courtyard surrounded by the classrooms. Inside this open court yard we are greeted by the teachers, social workers, principal, pastor and probably 350-400 children. They have been waiting for us. The children are all lined up in neat rows. They are separated by both age and size. They are standing tall, still and they are quiet. The only way to tell the girls from the boys are that the girls where skirts and the boys wear long shorts. The principal welcomes us and then explains that each row has a presentation. We are presented with music, song, plays, skits, dances and their memory verses and lessons. Some is in Swahili and some is in English. It is obvious that they have prepared for our coming for quite some time. They have worked hard to welcome and honor us.
As the children do their presentations they are sizing each of us up. We smile back and make eye contact. They sense our love for them just through that small expression. Then the principal says that the children can come and see us. We are mobbed. They hug tightly. They want to touch us. They greet us in English. They shake our hands and they laugh. Everyone has short hair. Therefore, when they discover how long my hair is they go nuts. They pull on my pony tail. I take my baseball cap off. They laugh more and touch it like it was a strange thing, which I am sure to them it was. Then I let my hair down. They are so fascinated and excited by just my hair. They laugh and I laugh as I haven’t laughed in years. I take their pictures. Most have never had their picture taken before. Most have never seen themselves and when they do they laugh and become quite shy or embarrassed. I tell them, “See how beautiful God has made you!” We begin to leave and I don’t know it yet but this will not be the first and only time that we are greeted with such honor and love. We discover within two days that this will be the norm because this is how these people greet and honor one another, especially their guests and visitors.
We walk out of World Hope Academy, and make an immediate left. We go through a very short door (I hit my head) and literally we are transported into one of the most hopeless places I will probably ever experience. We are in the slums of Nairobi. Whereas, I thought that the inner city was bad this is 1000x’s worse. Prior to entering we are told by Pastor Vic that we are not to initiate any conversations or go anywhere with anyone that has not been prearranged by Mission of Mercy. We are told that we are strangers in a different land and that we must keep both the safety of ourselves and the team in mind at all costs.
The slums in New York, Chicago or Los Angeles would be considered high rent district in comparison to the Nairobi slums. There was garbage and trash everywhere, raw sewage was running down the streets, you had to either walk over it or around it because you sure didn’t want to be walking through it. We were told that if by chance we fell in the sludge to just get up quickly and we’d get cleaned off later. Thankfully no one fell. Every one was barefoot. There were little children running around with only shirts on and nothing else. The stench was unbearable. The lack of sanitation, nutrition and food was more than obvious. There is no electricity or running water. People begged us for our shoes. I walked past a young man of probably 13-14 years old who was chewing on an AA battery. When I say chewing, he had it almost chewed in half. Now, I’m not a rocket scientist but I know nothing good can come out of that. It pained me to keep on walking and not say anything. We saw dogs lying in the streets asleep that resembled more of a skeleton than an animal. Disease was rampant you could see it and smell it. We saw people transporting water that was definitely not fit for drinking. Most were not happy that we were in their home territory. After all, would any of us like some outsider coming and seeing our homes when they were at their worst? Some cursed us and told us to go home. Some asked us why we Americans would come to their houses. Some smiled and greeted us with a hardy “Jambo” and a wave of their hands. I took few pictures. When I took a picture it was always with the person’s permission as I did not want to offend or scare them.
We visited with two families that were prearranged. I met Virginia. Virginia has a son named David. She greeted us outside of her home and her and I hugged. She looks at me and thanks me for coming. She says she is honored that we would come all the way from America to visit her and her family. She says to me with a genuine countenance and smile on her face “Where I live does not matter. For it is not were I live or what I have to go through that makes the difference. It is that I know Jesus and He loves me. I have everything I need in Jesus Christ.” Wow! She was as overwhelmed as I was. I am overwhelmed by what I saw around me and how she had to live. I am more overwhelmed by her faithfulness to and in God. She is overwhelmed by the fact that we would come to her home and visit her. We gave such a small thing, yet she gave so much more. I am humbled and convicted and think to myself “Lord help me in my unbelief, help me to be faithful and joyful in all circumstances.” She allows me the privilege of having my picture taken with her and I cry.
Their homes were 10 x 10 tin shacks. Most had no door other than a tattered curtain. The covering of their window consisted of a piece of tattered cloth if they were fortunate to have such a covering. They pay a tidy sum of $15/month to live there. It was disgusting to me that anyone could make a living off of such conditions. The slums went on for miles and miles. Literally thousands upon thousands of people live there. We walked for maybe 1 ½ hours and we only saw a minute fraction of the slums. We had previously visited New Life and World Hope Academy where there was great hope and life was evident in the people we saw. Here in the slums it was as if you were looking at vacant and empty shells which only existed. There was no life or light in their eyes. The slums were difficult to leave and discouraging. The need is so large there.
We return to African Heart and many of us are overwhelmed by what we have seen. That evening we are told that we will be traveling to Malindi the next day. This is when we find out that the people in Malindi have been waiting for two years for us to come. I am in awe. Again, we need to be on the bus by 7:00 am as it is a 12-13 hour bus ride. The next set of adventures a wait us.
It is 3:10 a.m. and I go outside. Everyone else is asleep. I can hear the sounds of the city. I hear the cars and I hear the dogs howling in the not so far distance. Occasionally you hear people talking or shouting in the streets. I have seen much in the past 24 hours. “Lord God, breathe your Life into this city. Breathe new life into me and may I never forget what I have seen in just one short day! In Jesus Name I pray, Amen!”
I am sad to leave Nairobi and African Heart. In a very short time relationships have been built. Even at the missionary complex I have gotten to know Charles, Anna and Josh. We have worked alongside of one another in the kitchen. We have laughed, prayed together, listened to music, shared pictures and stories about our families, did dishes, cooked food and set the table together. It does not seem long enough. The people here are so full of joy, love and graciousness. They refer to me as a friend. They ask me to tell the people in America that I have good friends in Africa. My heart will not be the same for I have been touched by God and He has done great things. All I have done is a few dishes, cut a few pieces of frit and a friendship was formed through the power of the Holy Spirit.
Hapi, one of our nationals shares with the team that the people in Malindi have been waiting and preparing for our visit for two years. We are the first missionary team to come to them. He went on to say that they are excited for us to be there and to join them in God’s work. I do not have any words that adequately describe how I feel. I am reminded of Paul in Philippians when he says that “God can testify how I long for all of you with the affection of Christ Jesus.” I cannot get past the fact that for some reason God chose our specific team, which includes me, to come. There is nothing of myself that I can bring. There is nothing within me that, of my self, that could give these people hope. It is only because Jesus lives in me that I can do any good. I am nothing, He is everything. I cannot even say what I want to say because the words cannot express what is in my heart, God knows. Maybe some day they will come but until then and beyond may God be glorified in my life.
We travel on to Malindi. It is a day of rest and recuperation from what we saw, heard and experienced in Nairobi. As we go through the countryside we see and hear many new sights and sounds. We see great mountains and can view the snow on Kilimanjaro, the scenery is beautiful. We see zebras, camels, monkeys and giraffes alongside of the road. The villages that we pass through are filled with people selling their wares alongside of the road. Children, adults and women carrying water jugs and wood for their fire on top of their heads. What a balancing act that is. Farmers, some literally scratching an existence out of the dirt but yet continue to work each and every day in conditions that we would consider unbearable. Everywhere we go we see their faces. Everywhere we go we are greeted with an enthusiastic “Jambo.” When the people see the bus they begin to run and become ecstatic. One little boy literally loses his pants as he runs after the bus. On this 12-13 hour trip everyone experiences the great outdoors in new ways. Let’s just say that bathroom facilities are extremely few and far between. In addition, the great outdoors is much more sanitary than other facilities that we have used. We laugh, we talk, we sing and some sleep. We stop to eat at a wild game park. What a refreshing oasis in the middle of the arid and dry weather. We arrive at our hotel in Malindi around 8:00 pm. Dinner awaits us. We prepare for our first day in the villages. “God, whatever you have planned is what I want.”
It would take pages and pages to describe each day’s events in every village. Therefore, I’m going to do a brief recap.
On the first day, Wednesday, we are supposed to get to the village about 9:30 – 10:00 am. However, because of a road being washed out we had to take a detour. When we came to the washed out road we were only 15 minutes of driving time away. The detour took us another 3 1/2 hours. It ended up being on such a narrow and windy road that we literally had to get out of the bus and take off tree and bush branches so we could get through. We had been told that we needed to have the mindset of TIA (This is Africa). The original plan might be one thing but the ultimate plan and result may be totally different. We figured that one of the things God had for us to do that day was clear a roadway. We are not promised smooth, straight and easy roads to travel on. But, we are promised that no matter what road we find ourselves on, God is with us. We thank God for this literal reminder of Him seeing the larger picture.
Along the way to the village we need to stop and use the most beautiful outdoor restrooms ever. It was funny because every woman finds her own bush. Each of us girls has become pros at this. Funny that even this brings a bond and a unity between us. We all laugh as we blushingly come out of the bushes.
We get to the first village. As soon as the bus enters the Mission of Mercy checkpoint there are people alongside the road that are waiting. Their faces light up and an eruption of joy and rejoicing begins. We still have a few miles to go. But, they have been waiting for us to come. Remember, they have been waiting for more than three hours, they have been waiting for two years. As the bus passes they celebrate. I look out the back window of the bus and there is a line of people running after us as they continue to celebrate.
We get to the community gathering place and the church site. The bus stops and we are literally mobbed. Again, just like in Nairobi, they want to touch us, hug us, shake our hand and speak with us. We pick children up in our arms and kiss their faces. Again, we are overwhelmed. It takes 10-15 minutes to get everyone off the bus. There is much excitement and rejoicing. They sing and dance and clap their hands. Children clasp our hands tightly and don’t let go. I realize that this is what it means to rejoice in the Lord. They were praising God for us and all we had done is come. We had done nothing else. The women were dressed in their finest tribal attire. The men were dressed in their Sunday best. The girls wore skirts and the boys wore long shorts. They literally cling to us and wrap their arms around us. We have become a human jungle gym. Again, there are no adequate words that describe what I feel.
They lead us to a place where there is a tent. We have chairs awaiting us and a table is spread before us with artificial flowers placed in pop bottle vases. We are given cold soda which I am sure was chilled in the river. I have never felt so welcomed by anyone in my life. I felt as if I was being led to the banquet table of God. We are instructed to sit. The children all find a lap to sit in and some of us hold 2 children. We are welcomed with a presentation from the people. The women sing and dance. The children recite their memory verses and school lessons for us (in English), the adults put on an absolutely hilarious skit about aids and even though it was done in Swahili we could understand the context. I have never seen such excellent actors before. The presentation was probably an hour long.
Now, it’s time to go to work. We are taught how to mud a church. Each person had a “mudding buddy,” women with women and men with men. These “mudding buddies” became our friends and they wanted to make sure that we had everything wee needed. If they thought we were working too hard they would tell us to quit. Some transported the dirt, mixed the dirt, others made mud balls and then some put the mud on the structure. It was a really organized assembly line. We talked and laughed as we worked. In what seemed too short of time we were done. Some would have church within these walls on Sunday. Then it was time for clean up and a restroom break in the notorious “squatty potties.” One is marked “Gents” and the other is marked “Ladies.” My “mudding buddy” took me over to the water and she insists on washing my hands. She hands my gloves to a little girl and instructs her to clean them for me. I am humbled and am reminded of when Jesus washed the disciple’s feet. I have just experienced true servant hood. This too would be repeated at every village.
I go to play with the children and teach them new songs. I teach their music teacher the songs as well. For some songs, like Jesus Loves Me, I use sign language. They learn from repetition and they learn quickly. We do the Hokey Pokey. Then some younger girls 13-14 years old come to me and asked me to teach them the sign language as well so they can take it back to their teacher. Then, they refer to me as a Teacher.
We are instructed to go back to the tent. Here we are presented with gifts of Mangos and a bag of nuts. The men receive hats and the women receive handbags. Each item is hand made. What treasures we have received and each given out of such a heart of love, generosity and gratitude. This is what true giving looks like. “Oh, God give me this kind of heart.” We are unworthy to receive such kindness. We have done nothing. We all feel like we have received way more than what we have given. We are blessed from their blessing.
They pick Shane, a man from our group, to be what they call an honorary village leader. He is given a tribal shawl and stick. I am confident that there has never been a white man chosen for such a position. We are told that we must listen to him for he is our leader. He is given a mango tree to plant. This is a big deal. Holes have been prepared in advance. Shane plants the first tree and then he hands each of us a tree to plant as well and takes us to each hole so we can plant our trees. These people have planted trees in our honor. I weep.
I speak to a young woman who has a baby on her back. As we talk she yawns. It’s obvious this has been a big day for them too. I ask her if this is first baby. She shakes her head no and the women behind me begin to chuckle. Then I go 1, 2 3…? She continues to shake her head no. The laughter behind me increases. I finally get to 10 and the woman shakes her head yes. I would be tired too. The women behind me are in hysterics. This young mom was at the most 25 years old. It is time to return to the bus. Again, in a matter of a few very short hours the relationships have been built and it is difficult to leave. We are mobbed again, they cling to us and they too want us to stay. I get on the bus, I weep.
Every day and every village response was the same. We were continually greeted by hundreds of children, men and women waiting for us with great rejoicing. I think to myself that these people waited for us for two years and during that time have prepared and longed to see our faces. Each detail was in place. When we went to Joy CDC hundreds of children were singing at the top of their lungs. Then there were some children who had taken tree branches and they were waving them in the air. Some children laid them down in front of the bus as it came by. I, again, weep and think of Jesus entering Jerusalem.
We are so undeserving to be treated and welcomed as Jesus was. I realize that I am in a place where true corporate worship and rejoicing takes place. There is such happiness here even though there is much struggle, trial and challenge for each day of their life. “Oh God, teach me this contentment. Teach me this peace and thanksgiving. Remind me of what I have seen here so that I know how to trust and obey you. Make me become whom you want me to be. Please God, there is so much for me to learn. Humble me.”
We are a strange sight as most have never seen white people before. Some are afraid and some of the babies cry. Some mothers are concerned about what we will teach their children. Some are fearful that we are devil worshippers. However, trust is gained extremely quickly. I speak to the caregivers and the older women of the village. They were located under a tent. If you greeted one you had to greet them all or a great offense would be taken. I found that it would take an hour or two to greet each one, shake their hand and speak with them. When I tell them they are beautiful they become shy and turn away. I remind them that God made them wonderfully and that He is the master designer they smile. Their smiles light up a room and it is obvious that God’s light shines through them. As I visit I realize that we may be miles and miles apart and may live in different cultures but we are women and the differences between us are pretty minimal.
We see no toys. They don’t know what a toy is. Yet, even though they work hard they find and make things to play with like a piece of rope, or a bucket with no bottom. When we did Vacation Bible School we realized that they didn’t know what a sticker was or what you did with it. They had never seen a balloon before. Oh, how they loved those. When the balloons came out all control was lost. They had so much fun. We had anticipated approximately 200 children at each VBS location. We probably had 300-400 children at each location. Children got their faces painted, crowns for their heads, played with balloons, got beaded bracelets and popsicle stick crosses. We sang songs and played games. We talked and ate and prayed with the teachers. One of the groups went to a village where they had slaughtered a goat in their honor. This too, was a big deal. They ate the goat for lunch. For a people who have very little the slaughtering of a goat was a great sacrifice.
We took many soccer balls, jump ropes, bubbles, Frisbees, etc. The children literally went crazy over the soccer balls. See, they know what soccer is and their soccer ball consisted of rolled up trash or plastic bags tied together. For them to have a soccer ball to play with was a big deal. We had enough soccer balls where we could leave at least two in each village. We even had a soccer game between our mission team and the local soccer team. Let’s just say that they basically crucified us. The mission team never got a point but the game was great and the crowd was huge and we cheered for each other.
It is a different life but it is not all bad. Americans would do well to learn many things from them. Actually, many adults wanted to know about America. In a lot of ways I was embarrassed and just said “America has a lot to learn from you.” They looked surprised but it was true.
I took a small photo book with me that contained pictures of many of you. I would show them to the people and they were fascinated. When they saw the pictures of and found out that my mom, in-laws and aunts and uncles were between the ages of 80 and 91 they were amazed. Elderly people are held in high esteem in Africa. The average life expectancy over there is around 60.
Ladies, I will never complain about cooking again. The women there cook meals for approximately 200 children, everyday, in each CDC. They have one large mudded building for their kitchen. There is no hot and cold running water nor is there any electricity. These kitchens have 3 very large wood fires. On these fires sit large pots where they make an oatmeal textured meal. This oatmeal type meal consisted of rice or beans, vegetables and maybe some meat if available. The pots that they cook in are easily 3 - 3/12 feet round. Guess what? They also have to lift these pots as well. They made us fresh corn tortillas. We cut the corn, pounded the corn with a large pharmaceutical type pedestal that was probably 4 feet tall, separated the corn from the husk using a strainer type basket, dried the corn on an open fire, put the dried corn in the large stone grinder and ground it. The flour was collected on the other side. It took all morning to prepare tortillas for the 400 people that were present for lunch that day.
Women work hard, harder than the men. The women take great pride in the fact that they work harder than the men. I was actually told by one woman that they wanted to prove just how much harder they worked. Shane, one of the men in our group was actually pulled off of a project because of how hard he was working. He was told that they did want the women to see the hard working American man because it would make the other men of the tribe look bad. Obviously, equal rights for women have not yet hit Africa.
I will spend some time on what church was like. I don’t even know how to describe it. People walk for miles which could easily be 1 – 1 ½ hours one way. Again, much generosity and kindness is displayed, given and received. As soon as I get off the bus a woman sees my Bible and she offers to carry it for me. I do not realize at the time but later I was told that this was their way of honoring the guest preacher. The music was wonderful. It was interesting because all of the adults sat in chairs. All of the children sat up front, on the floor, immediately to the Pastor’s left. When I say immediate we are talking only 3-4 feet away. The children were comprised of little ones as young as 3 or 4 all the way up to 15 or 16 years of age. Little ones in the front, older ones in the back.. If, by chance, a child misbehaved an adult sitting in the back would lift the child up and place him right next to the where the pastor was standing. Guess what? If they misbehaved they only did it once. The pastor’s name was Pastor Daniel and even though he was small in stature he was large and on fire for God. His love for his people in his church was obvious and was only superseded by his love for God.
The church was full. Yet, people continued to come. They stood outside the windows and the open doors, they sat on the ground and they listened and worshipped. They did not let the lack of air conditioning or chairs keep them back. They did not let the distance or the distractions of daily life press them down nor did it prevent them from coming. The church that I was at had a generator so they actually had a key board and sound system. They didn’t know how to adjust the sound but they had one. I am not sure that this wasn’t brought in specifically for us. I do not think it was the norm.
At one of the other churches they had no musical instruments at all. Jamin, who is a worship leader from our team, left his guitar at the church he visited. They were thrilled with the gift. See, they didn’t need the bells and whistles or the horse and pony show for church to happen. The people didn’t need to be entertained by great talent and power point presentations to be drawn in. They didn’t believe in being made comfortable so they could pay attention. I’m not saying that talent, musical instruments, sound systems, and power point presentations are bad things. However, I do believe that sometimes, in America, we get caught up in those things and forget why we are at church. I think that we get worried when we hit a wrong note or the sound system screeches or our voices are out of tune or hoarse. I think we get caught up more in ourselves. After all, isn’t that what we are worried about when something doesn’t go quite our way during a worship service? Worship can easily become a pride issue (about me) instead of a God encounter (about Him). Worship, in America, many times becomes something we do or something we perform. In Africa, they know who their God is. They were committed to Him and the plans and purposes that He has for the people and their community. They know that He is their sustenance. They know that without Him they are nothing and that with Him they are everything in Christ Jesus. They recognize and understand their lostness and know who their Deliver and Redeemer is. In such a place where life literally hangs on the edge of death, they are thankful for just another day of living. For them, church is the culmination of their week. They know they need it, they feed on it and they are thankful for it. They come because they are committed to God and love and honor Him.
Every person came to church with the expectation that God was present and they responded accordingly. We sang, we danced we worshiped with boldness and uplifted hands. These people know their God and they also know that God knows and loves them. There were two offerings a freewill offering and the tithe offering. The tithe offering plate was up front. If you gave to the tithe you had to physically walk up front and put it in the basket. The freewill offering was passed from person to person while still seated. It was interesting because there was a young lady who reached down into her pocket and took out a small coin. She put in the offering. She noticed that the girl next to her did not have anything to put in. The young lady reached back down into her pocket and pulled out another coin and gave it to the girl next to her so she could put something in as well. At the end of church this same young lady had a sucker that someone had given her. She took the sucker and bit it into 5 different pieces. She handed out those 5 pieces to 5 little girls that were around her. She took none for herself. This young lady reminds me of the woman who put the 2 mites into the offering in the New Testament. These people literally have nothing to give but yet give all that they have. They know, understand and act upon what true giving is in the Bible. I am sure that Jesus is pleased and smiles greatly when He sees this heart of love from His children.
The service is done in both Swahili and English. Believe it or not but I stayed within my 15 minute time frame. That means that I spoke in English for 15 minutes and Pastor Daniel translated for 15 minutes in Swahili. After speaking I also taught them a song in Swahili. Trust me it was really basic and simple. I wish I could describe the presence of God that was felt in that place. Two cultures, totally different, worshipping in both Swahili and English, how awesome is that? Even though there was a slight language barrier we all knew that we were in God’s presence and that there was unity between us and that we worshipped the same God in one accord.
One village that we visited told us about the land that they had purchased for their site. The Pastor shared that in American dollars it would be $600 for one acre. He went on to share how each person gave as they could. Some donated a portion of their crops, a goat, chicken or cow. The leaders in the village gave a portion of their income. It took a few years to raise the money. But, they shared what they had and the land was purchased. This same village had a need to purchase another acre of land because they had already out grown their location. The cost was another $600.
The last night that we were in Malindi our team took up an offering for various needs in the villages. The needs were one acre of land ($600), 7 pairs of goats ($35/pair=$245), a love offering for the two nationals that spent 11 days away from their families so they could be with us, and money to cover the laundry costs ($150) for the clothing that we were leaving behind for the villages. We had four buckets, one for each need. Because of God’s grace and His provision almost $1,500 was placed in those buckets, collectively. Each bucket contained more than enough to cover each need. Our nationals were blessed as well. God is so good!
Todd and I are proud new sponsors of a little girl who resides near the Hosanna Child Development Center. She is 7 years old. Her father is a farmer and she has 3 brothers and sisters. Prior to our sponsorship she was unable to go to school. She enjoys rolling old tires and playing ball with her friends. With our sponsorship she will receive schooling, a uniform, medical screenings and one full well balanced meal a day. I look forward to how God is going to work in this little girl’s life. I look forward to writing her and hearing back from her. I think I may have even met her before I knew who we were going to sponsor. See, we were getting ready to leave one of the villages and I remember a little girl whose name was Mpenzie. We hugged and spoke briefly. I don’t know if it’s the same one or not but it certainly could be.
Prior to going I wasn’t sure if we could afford sponsoring a child. Before I left I realized that we couldn’t afford not to sponsor a child. After all, we are talking scaling back our budget a little more than $1/day. I drink more pop than that in a month, Todd smokes that in 3-4 days and there have been occasions when we have gone out to eat with the family where we’ve spent that much on one meal. I saw first hand the despair of the Nairobi slums and the hope of what a mere $34/month does for one child when they are sponsored through Mission of Mercy. One child does matter. One child can change the world. One child can and will make a difference. If, by chance, you are interested in sponsoring a child you can go to www.missionofmercy.org or call 1-800-864-0200.
Remember when I said that they had waited for two years for us to come and the preparations that had to be made? There was a lot of planning in this trip both on the American and the African side. It involved people from the greatest to the least and the youngest to the oldest. I wonder, and this is a question for me as well. Jesus is coming again and His Word talks about His return and a great wedding feast. Generation after generation has waited and the clock continues to tick. I have to ask myself, what am I doing to prepare for His coming? Am I as excited about Jesus’ return as these people were about our coming to Africa? Will I be ready? Will I greet Him with great rejoicing, singing, dancing and praise? Will I lay down the branches at His feet as He enters? When I think in these terms I realize just how much work God still has to do within me. If these people can welcome us like they did and we are only people, then how much more do I have to prepare for the return of Jesus Christ.? I, for one, still have some preparing to do. How about you? Are you ready?
Every day I experienced and was reminded of different Bible verses, stories and parables. Every day was a blessing from God both for them and me. You were as much a part, if not more, in my going. I thank you, again, for your prayers, encouragement and monetary contributions that made this trip possible. Because of you these people were loved on, ministered to, and encouraged. When I told them about how you had sent me they would weep. When I showed them your pictures they cried again. See, they were excited about the coming of the Americans to their villages and waited with great anticipation. In our going we were able to take to them God’s love and your love. We were able to assist them in some of their work projects such as digging ditches and latrines, putting on metal roofs, mudding huts, laying water pipe and plastering. We were able to teach the children about Jesus through love, hugs, songs, stories and just plain playing. They will always remember our coming and I will be forever grateful in being sent. It was life altering for both them and I.
Again, thank you so very much. I know that this was a very long communication and that it took time in it’s coming to you. I have many more written pages that would take volumes of paper to fill.
With Much Love and Thankfulness,
Carla “CJ” Giese
Dear Family and Friends,
I have returned from Africa and have just recently been able to begin to process the sights, sounds and experiences that I had the privilege to come in contact with. It definitely was a lot to take in and absorb. In addition, the day after my return I went in for some major wrist reconstruction and have been in a full arm cast for the past 8 weeks. I have written this many times in my head. I pray that I can communicate what is inside of my heart.
On June 5, I got up at 3:30 am. I did some laundry, putzed around the house, took a shower and got ready. Then, Todd said to me “Get your butt and stuff in the truck.” As we drove to Country Suites on the east side of Green Bay I experienced about 15 seconds of nervousness and thinking to myself “What am I doing?” Ten minutes later we were at our meeting place. We loaded the bus and hit I-43 towards Chicago. Todd traveled on I-43 until he got to his turnoff. When he exited I-43 I realized that there was no turning back. A tear dropped down my face and I prayed. I realized that I was going to be experiencing an adventure of a lifetime. I said “Here we go God!”
We arrived in Nairobi about 10:00 pm, their time. We had just traveled for approximately 19-20 hours and most slept in the airports and on the plane. As we prepared to land in Nairobi we traveled over a large expanse of darkness surrounded by many fires. We didn’t know it at the time but the large expanse of land was the National Game Preserve and the fires were from the slums in Nairobi. We would become familiar with the slums in less than 12 hours.
Our accommodations in Nairobi were at a place called African Heart. It was an absolutely lovely and wonderful location with beautiful surroundings. African Heart is a place where missionaries stay either on the short term, like us, or for those missionaries that are in transition between their homeland and finding permanent housing in Nairobi. This is the place where we would eat and sleep for two nights and one day. We are told to be ready to board the bus no later than 5:00 am.
On, Monday, we have an opportunity to do a very brief tour of the National Game Preserve. I meet one of the workers there who is sweeping the sidewalk and parking lot with a very small broom. She is hunched over and it’s obvious she has done this work for a very long time. It is how she makes her living. Realize though, that the broom she is using is basically a plant type material similar to straw that is tied together on the upper part of the handle. She is excited to see these strange white people and we visit for maybe 15 minutes. Sweeping is what she is paid to do. However, she tells me that she has friends in America. We talk about this for a while and then I realize that she is considering me her friend in America. She wants my name and address so she can write me. We had been advised, by the team leaders, to never give this information out as it makes the team vulnerable and puts everyone at risk. Therefore, I can not accommodate this request. She asks me about America and then very boldly asks me if I would take her back with me to America. It grieves my heart to have to leave her behind.
We leave the game preserve and head to New Life Center where the babies and toddlers are. To get there we must drive through the city. I have never seen such traffic and disorganization in driving. Everyone pretty much drives where and however they want. At times we were on the wrong side of the road. The bus barely slows down for anything or anybody. It is early morning so everyone is on their way to work. As many cars as there were, there were many more people. I remember thinking where do these people work and where are they all going.
We go down the roads and poverty and wealth live and work side by side. We see open vendors on the streets. We see little children walking alone. We see beggars that are paralyzed and whose only means of any type of income is through the giving of someone else. We learn as we go that the city is getting ready for Vice-President Biden to visit. Everywhere we go we see garbage. We drive past the slums and the stench is overwhelming. We do not realize yet that in a very short time we will experience them first hand. The further into the city we get the worse the conditions become. We see high secured walls and drives. Most businesses, churches, hotels, etc. have their own security. In order to get in you need to be expected or have clearance. Then we begin to drive on the outskirts of the slums. We pull into a driveway and are greeted by security. We are allowed in. As we enter we see the sign that says New Life Center. We have arrived at the place that I thought was going to be the toughest to leave. I find out within less than 1 ½ hours that this is not the case.
We enter into the New Life complex. We are surrounded and greeted by exceptional beauty. It is such a contrast to what lies directly outside their walls. The staff is primarily women. We are given a brief overview of what New Life does and how it operates. Once babies are brought there, they don‘t leave until they are adopted. The adoption process is quite stringent. The staff is phenomenal. There is so much love within those walls. Those babies lack for nothing even though they don’t appear to have much. They are loved, their health needs are addressed, and they are fed, clothed and protected. Just in the short time that we are there I realize that these babies are in the best possible place they could be.
Even though the babies are abandoned there is quite often occasion where tribal differences can create great risks and violence. Therefore, for the child’s protection, New Life give the babies a new name, birth date and a new past. They are given a new identity. In so doing they also have opportunity for a new future that is filled with hope and a shot at a new life. What a picture of what Jesus does for us well when we seek His forgiveness. God settles the dispute, gives us a new name, a new birthday, and a new identity. God wipes out the past and gives us a future full of hope.
I get to hold little Toby. He smiled the entire time and laughed at me. I laughed, smiled, prayed and wept over this precious little one who has already traveled a life time in his few short months. I am privileged to hold him, feed him, and place him down for his nap. We leave New Life after only a few short hours. Whereas, I thought I would cry, I rejoice at the life that those precious little ones have through New Life Center. I went feeling sorry for the babies. I left thankful and with great gratitude for the future that these little ones now have. New Life demonstrates the hope of Jesus Christ for the nations.
We leave New Life and go to a place called World Hope Academy. This is a Mission of Mercy school and child development center. As the bus pulls in we see lots of little faces peeking at us out the doorway. As we walk through their multi functional facility I wonder where the children went. I knew they hadn’t come out but yet I didn’t see them. I glance over to the sides of the room and notice partitions with curtains around them. Underneath the curtains I see little feet and faces peeking out at us. I then realize it is nap time and even though we were there, they still had to adhere to their scheduled nap. I giggle inside. We walk through the landscape and come to an open courtyard surrounded by the classrooms. Inside this open court yard we are greeted by the teachers, social workers, principal, pastor and probably 350-400 children. They have been waiting for us. The children are all lined up in neat rows. They are separated by both age and size. They are standing tall, still and they are quiet. The only way to tell the girls from the boys are that the girls where skirts and the boys wear long shorts. The principal welcomes us and then explains that each row has a presentation. We are presented with music, song, plays, skits, dances and their memory verses and lessons. Some is in Swahili and some is in English. It is obvious that they have prepared for our coming for quite some time. They have worked hard to welcome and honor us.
As the children do their presentations they are sizing each of us up. We smile back and make eye contact. They sense our love for them just through that small expression. Then the principal says that the children can come and see us. We are mobbed. They hug tightly. They want to touch us. They greet us in English. They shake our hands and they laugh. Everyone has short hair. Therefore, when they discover how long my hair is they go nuts. They pull on my pony tail. I take my baseball cap off. They laugh more and touch it like it was a strange thing, which I am sure to them it was. Then I let my hair down. They are so fascinated and excited by just my hair. They laugh and I laugh as I haven’t laughed in years. I take their pictures. Most have never had their picture taken before. Most have never seen themselves and when they do they laugh and become quite shy or embarrassed. I tell them, “See how beautiful God has made you!” We begin to leave and I don’t know it yet but this will not be the first and only time that we are greeted with such honor and love. We discover within two days that this will be the norm because this is how these people greet and honor one another, especially their guests and visitors.
We walk out of World Hope Academy, and make an immediate left. We go through a very short door (I hit my head) and literally we are transported into one of the most hopeless places I will probably ever experience. We are in the slums of Nairobi. Whereas, I thought that the inner city was bad this is 1000x’s worse. Prior to entering we are told by Pastor Vic that we are not to initiate any conversations or go anywhere with anyone that has not been prearranged by Mission of Mercy. We are told that we are strangers in a different land and that we must keep both the safety of ourselves and the team in mind at all costs.
The slums in New York, Chicago or Los Angeles would be considered high rent district in comparison to the Nairobi slums. There was garbage and trash everywhere, raw sewage was running down the streets, you had to either walk over it or around it because you sure didn’t want to be walking through it. We were told that if by chance we fell in the sludge to just get up quickly and we’d get cleaned off later. Thankfully no one fell. Every one was barefoot. There were little children running around with only shirts on and nothing else. The stench was unbearable. The lack of sanitation, nutrition and food was more than obvious. There is no electricity or running water. People begged us for our shoes. I walked past a young man of probably 13-14 years old who was chewing on an AA battery. When I say chewing, he had it almost chewed in half. Now, I’m not a rocket scientist but I know nothing good can come out of that. It pained me to keep on walking and not say anything. We saw dogs lying in the streets asleep that resembled more of a skeleton than an animal. Disease was rampant you could see it and smell it. We saw people transporting water that was definitely not fit for drinking. Most were not happy that we were in their home territory. After all, would any of us like some outsider coming and seeing our homes when they were at their worst? Some cursed us and told us to go home. Some asked us why we Americans would come to their houses. Some smiled and greeted us with a hardy “Jambo” and a wave of their hands. I took few pictures. When I took a picture it was always with the person’s permission as I did not want to offend or scare them.
We visited with two families that were prearranged. I met Virginia. Virginia has a son named David. She greeted us outside of her home and her and I hugged. She looks at me and thanks me for coming. She says she is honored that we would come all the way from America to visit her and her family. She says to me with a genuine countenance and smile on her face “Where I live does not matter. For it is not were I live or what I have to go through that makes the difference. It is that I know Jesus and He loves me. I have everything I need in Jesus Christ.” Wow! She was as overwhelmed as I was. I am overwhelmed by what I saw around me and how she had to live. I am more overwhelmed by her faithfulness to and in God. She is overwhelmed by the fact that we would come to her home and visit her. We gave such a small thing, yet she gave so much more. I am humbled and convicted and think to myself “Lord help me in my unbelief, help me to be faithful and joyful in all circumstances.” She allows me the privilege of having my picture taken with her and I cry.
Their homes were 10 x 10 tin shacks. Most had no door other than a tattered curtain. The covering of their window consisted of a piece of tattered cloth if they were fortunate to have such a covering. They pay a tidy sum of $15/month to live there. It was disgusting to me that anyone could make a living off of such conditions. The slums went on for miles and miles. Literally thousands upon thousands of people live there. We walked for maybe 1 ½ hours and we only saw a minute fraction of the slums. We had previously visited New Life and World Hope Academy where there was great hope and life was evident in the people we saw. Here in the slums it was as if you were looking at vacant and empty shells which only existed. There was no life or light in their eyes. The slums were difficult to leave and discouraging. The need is so large there.
We return to African Heart and many of us are overwhelmed by what we have seen. That evening we are told that we will be traveling to Malindi the next day. This is when we find out that the people in Malindi have been waiting for two years for us to come. I am in awe. Again, we need to be on the bus by 7:00 am as it is a 12-13 hour bus ride. The next set of adventures a wait us.
It is 3:10 a.m. and I go outside. Everyone else is asleep. I can hear the sounds of the city. I hear the cars and I hear the dogs howling in the not so far distance. Occasionally you hear people talking or shouting in the streets. I have seen much in the past 24 hours. “Lord God, breathe your Life into this city. Breathe new life into me and may I never forget what I have seen in just one short day! In Jesus Name I pray, Amen!”
I am sad to leave Nairobi and African Heart. In a very short time relationships have been built. Even at the missionary complex I have gotten to know Charles, Anna and Josh. We have worked alongside of one another in the kitchen. We have laughed, prayed together, listened to music, shared pictures and stories about our families, did dishes, cooked food and set the table together. It does not seem long enough. The people here are so full of joy, love and graciousness. They refer to me as a friend. They ask me to tell the people in America that I have good friends in Africa. My heart will not be the same for I have been touched by God and He has done great things. All I have done is a few dishes, cut a few pieces of frit and a friendship was formed through the power of the Holy Spirit.
Hapi, one of our nationals shares with the team that the people in Malindi have been waiting and preparing for our visit for two years. We are the first missionary team to come to them. He went on to say that they are excited for us to be there and to join them in God’s work. I do not have any words that adequately describe how I feel. I am reminded of Paul in Philippians when he says that “God can testify how I long for all of you with the affection of Christ Jesus.” I cannot get past the fact that for some reason God chose our specific team, which includes me, to come. There is nothing of myself that I can bring. There is nothing within me that, of my self, that could give these people hope. It is only because Jesus lives in me that I can do any good. I am nothing, He is everything. I cannot even say what I want to say because the words cannot express what is in my heart, God knows. Maybe some day they will come but until then and beyond may God be glorified in my life.
We travel on to Malindi. It is a day of rest and recuperation from what we saw, heard and experienced in Nairobi. As we go through the countryside we see and hear many new sights and sounds. We see great mountains and can view the snow on Kilimanjaro, the scenery is beautiful. We see zebras, camels, monkeys and giraffes alongside of the road. The villages that we pass through are filled with people selling their wares alongside of the road. Children, adults and women carrying water jugs and wood for their fire on top of their heads. What a balancing act that is. Farmers, some literally scratching an existence out of the dirt but yet continue to work each and every day in conditions that we would consider unbearable. Everywhere we go we see their faces. Everywhere we go we are greeted with an enthusiastic “Jambo.” When the people see the bus they begin to run and become ecstatic. One little boy literally loses his pants as he runs after the bus. On this 12-13 hour trip everyone experiences the great outdoors in new ways. Let’s just say that bathroom facilities are extremely few and far between. In addition, the great outdoors is much more sanitary than other facilities that we have used. We laugh, we talk, we sing and some sleep. We stop to eat at a wild game park. What a refreshing oasis in the middle of the arid and dry weather. We arrive at our hotel in Malindi around 8:00 pm. Dinner awaits us. We prepare for our first day in the villages. “God, whatever you have planned is what I want.”
It would take pages and pages to describe each day’s events in every village. Therefore, I’m going to do a brief recap.
On the first day, Wednesday, we are supposed to get to the village about 9:30 – 10:00 am. However, because of a road being washed out we had to take a detour. When we came to the washed out road we were only 15 minutes of driving time away. The detour took us another 3 1/2 hours. It ended up being on such a narrow and windy road that we literally had to get out of the bus and take off tree and bush branches so we could get through. We had been told that we needed to have the mindset of TIA (This is Africa). The original plan might be one thing but the ultimate plan and result may be totally different. We figured that one of the things God had for us to do that day was clear a roadway. We are not promised smooth, straight and easy roads to travel on. But, we are promised that no matter what road we find ourselves on, God is with us. We thank God for this literal reminder of Him seeing the larger picture.
Along the way to the village we need to stop and use the most beautiful outdoor restrooms ever. It was funny because every woman finds her own bush. Each of us girls has become pros at this. Funny that even this brings a bond and a unity between us. We all laugh as we blushingly come out of the bushes.
We get to the first village. As soon as the bus enters the Mission of Mercy checkpoint there are people alongside the road that are waiting. Their faces light up and an eruption of joy and rejoicing begins. We still have a few miles to go. But, they have been waiting for us to come. Remember, they have been waiting for more than three hours, they have been waiting for two years. As the bus passes they celebrate. I look out the back window of the bus and there is a line of people running after us as they continue to celebrate.
We get to the community gathering place and the church site. The bus stops and we are literally mobbed. Again, just like in Nairobi, they want to touch us, hug us, shake our hand and speak with us. We pick children up in our arms and kiss their faces. Again, we are overwhelmed. It takes 10-15 minutes to get everyone off the bus. There is much excitement and rejoicing. They sing and dance and clap their hands. Children clasp our hands tightly and don’t let go. I realize that this is what it means to rejoice in the Lord. They were praising God for us and all we had done is come. We had done nothing else. The women were dressed in their finest tribal attire. The men were dressed in their Sunday best. The girls wore skirts and the boys wore long shorts. They literally cling to us and wrap their arms around us. We have become a human jungle gym. Again, there are no adequate words that describe what I feel.
They lead us to a place where there is a tent. We have chairs awaiting us and a table is spread before us with artificial flowers placed in pop bottle vases. We are given cold soda which I am sure was chilled in the river. I have never felt so welcomed by anyone in my life. I felt as if I was being led to the banquet table of God. We are instructed to sit. The children all find a lap to sit in and some of us hold 2 children. We are welcomed with a presentation from the people. The women sing and dance. The children recite their memory verses and school lessons for us (in English), the adults put on an absolutely hilarious skit about aids and even though it was done in Swahili we could understand the context. I have never seen such excellent actors before. The presentation was probably an hour long.
Now, it’s time to go to work. We are taught how to mud a church. Each person had a “mudding buddy,” women with women and men with men. These “mudding buddies” became our friends and they wanted to make sure that we had everything wee needed. If they thought we were working too hard they would tell us to quit. Some transported the dirt, mixed the dirt, others made mud balls and then some put the mud on the structure. It was a really organized assembly line. We talked and laughed as we worked. In what seemed too short of time we were done. Some would have church within these walls on Sunday. Then it was time for clean up and a restroom break in the notorious “squatty potties.” One is marked “Gents” and the other is marked “Ladies.” My “mudding buddy” took me over to the water and she insists on washing my hands. She hands my gloves to a little girl and instructs her to clean them for me. I am humbled and am reminded of when Jesus washed the disciple’s feet. I have just experienced true servant hood. This too would be repeated at every village.
I go to play with the children and teach them new songs. I teach their music teacher the songs as well. For some songs, like Jesus Loves Me, I use sign language. They learn from repetition and they learn quickly. We do the Hokey Pokey. Then some younger girls 13-14 years old come to me and asked me to teach them the sign language as well so they can take it back to their teacher. Then, they refer to me as a Teacher.
We are instructed to go back to the tent. Here we are presented with gifts of Mangos and a bag of nuts. The men receive hats and the women receive handbags. Each item is hand made. What treasures we have received and each given out of such a heart of love, generosity and gratitude. This is what true giving looks like. “Oh, God give me this kind of heart.” We are unworthy to receive such kindness. We have done nothing. We all feel like we have received way more than what we have given. We are blessed from their blessing.
They pick Shane, a man from our group, to be what they call an honorary village leader. He is given a tribal shawl and stick. I am confident that there has never been a white man chosen for such a position. We are told that we must listen to him for he is our leader. He is given a mango tree to plant. This is a big deal. Holes have been prepared in advance. Shane plants the first tree and then he hands each of us a tree to plant as well and takes us to each hole so we can plant our trees. These people have planted trees in our honor. I weep.
I speak to a young woman who has a baby on her back. As we talk she yawns. It’s obvious this has been a big day for them too. I ask her if this is first baby. She shakes her head no and the women behind me begin to chuckle. Then I go 1, 2 3…? She continues to shake her head no. The laughter behind me increases. I finally get to 10 and the woman shakes her head yes. I would be tired too. The women behind me are in hysterics. This young mom was at the most 25 years old. It is time to return to the bus. Again, in a matter of a few very short hours the relationships have been built and it is difficult to leave. We are mobbed again, they cling to us and they too want us to stay. I get on the bus, I weep.
Every day and every village response was the same. We were continually greeted by hundreds of children, men and women waiting for us with great rejoicing. I think to myself that these people waited for us for two years and during that time have prepared and longed to see our faces. Each detail was in place. When we went to Joy CDC hundreds of children were singing at the top of their lungs. Then there were some children who had taken tree branches and they were waving them in the air. Some children laid them down in front of the bus as it came by. I, again, weep and think of Jesus entering Jerusalem.
We are so undeserving to be treated and welcomed as Jesus was. I realize that I am in a place where true corporate worship and rejoicing takes place. There is such happiness here even though there is much struggle, trial and challenge for each day of their life. “Oh God, teach me this contentment. Teach me this peace and thanksgiving. Remind me of what I have seen here so that I know how to trust and obey you. Make me become whom you want me to be. Please God, there is so much for me to learn. Humble me.”
We are a strange sight as most have never seen white people before. Some are afraid and some of the babies cry. Some mothers are concerned about what we will teach their children. Some are fearful that we are devil worshippers. However, trust is gained extremely quickly. I speak to the caregivers and the older women of the village. They were located under a tent. If you greeted one you had to greet them all or a great offense would be taken. I found that it would take an hour or two to greet each one, shake their hand and speak with them. When I tell them they are beautiful they become shy and turn away. I remind them that God made them wonderfully and that He is the master designer they smile. Their smiles light up a room and it is obvious that God’s light shines through them. As I visit I realize that we may be miles and miles apart and may live in different cultures but we are women and the differences between us are pretty minimal.
We see no toys. They don’t know what a toy is. Yet, even though they work hard they find and make things to play with like a piece of rope, or a bucket with no bottom. When we did Vacation Bible School we realized that they didn’t know what a sticker was or what you did with it. They had never seen a balloon before. Oh, how they loved those. When the balloons came out all control was lost. They had so much fun. We had anticipated approximately 200 children at each VBS location. We probably had 300-400 children at each location. Children got their faces painted, crowns for their heads, played with balloons, got beaded bracelets and popsicle stick crosses. We sang songs and played games. We talked and ate and prayed with the teachers. One of the groups went to a village where they had slaughtered a goat in their honor. This too, was a big deal. They ate the goat for lunch. For a people who have very little the slaughtering of a goat was a great sacrifice.
We took many soccer balls, jump ropes, bubbles, Frisbees, etc. The children literally went crazy over the soccer balls. See, they know what soccer is and their soccer ball consisted of rolled up trash or plastic bags tied together. For them to have a soccer ball to play with was a big deal. We had enough soccer balls where we could leave at least two in each village. We even had a soccer game between our mission team and the local soccer team. Let’s just say that they basically crucified us. The mission team never got a point but the game was great and the crowd was huge and we cheered for each other.
It is a different life but it is not all bad. Americans would do well to learn many things from them. Actually, many adults wanted to know about America. In a lot of ways I was embarrassed and just said “America has a lot to learn from you.” They looked surprised but it was true.
I took a small photo book with me that contained pictures of many of you. I would show them to the people and they were fascinated. When they saw the pictures of and found out that my mom, in-laws and aunts and uncles were between the ages of 80 and 91 they were amazed. Elderly people are held in high esteem in Africa. The average life expectancy over there is around 60.
Ladies, I will never complain about cooking again. The women there cook meals for approximately 200 children, everyday, in each CDC. They have one large mudded building for their kitchen. There is no hot and cold running water nor is there any electricity. These kitchens have 3 very large wood fires. On these fires sit large pots where they make an oatmeal textured meal. This oatmeal type meal consisted of rice or beans, vegetables and maybe some meat if available. The pots that they cook in are easily 3 - 3/12 feet round. Guess what? They also have to lift these pots as well. They made us fresh corn tortillas. We cut the corn, pounded the corn with a large pharmaceutical type pedestal that was probably 4 feet tall, separated the corn from the husk using a strainer type basket, dried the corn on an open fire, put the dried corn in the large stone grinder and ground it. The flour was collected on the other side. It took all morning to prepare tortillas for the 400 people that were present for lunch that day.
Women work hard, harder than the men. The women take great pride in the fact that they work harder than the men. I was actually told by one woman that they wanted to prove just how much harder they worked. Shane, one of the men in our group was actually pulled off of a project because of how hard he was working. He was told that they did want the women to see the hard working American man because it would make the other men of the tribe look bad. Obviously, equal rights for women have not yet hit Africa.
I will spend some time on what church was like. I don’t even know how to describe it. People walk for miles which could easily be 1 – 1 ½ hours one way. Again, much generosity and kindness is displayed, given and received. As soon as I get off the bus a woman sees my Bible and she offers to carry it for me. I do not realize at the time but later I was told that this was their way of honoring the guest preacher. The music was wonderful. It was interesting because all of the adults sat in chairs. All of the children sat up front, on the floor, immediately to the Pastor’s left. When I say immediate we are talking only 3-4 feet away. The children were comprised of little ones as young as 3 or 4 all the way up to 15 or 16 years of age. Little ones in the front, older ones in the back.. If, by chance, a child misbehaved an adult sitting in the back would lift the child up and place him right next to the where the pastor was standing. Guess what? If they misbehaved they only did it once. The pastor’s name was Pastor Daniel and even though he was small in stature he was large and on fire for God. His love for his people in his church was obvious and was only superseded by his love for God.
The church was full. Yet, people continued to come. They stood outside the windows and the open doors, they sat on the ground and they listened and worshipped. They did not let the lack of air conditioning or chairs keep them back. They did not let the distance or the distractions of daily life press them down nor did it prevent them from coming. The church that I was at had a generator so they actually had a key board and sound system. They didn’t know how to adjust the sound but they had one. I am not sure that this wasn’t brought in specifically for us. I do not think it was the norm.
At one of the other churches they had no musical instruments at all. Jamin, who is a worship leader from our team, left his guitar at the church he visited. They were thrilled with the gift. See, they didn’t need the bells and whistles or the horse and pony show for church to happen. The people didn’t need to be entertained by great talent and power point presentations to be drawn in. They didn’t believe in being made comfortable so they could pay attention. I’m not saying that talent, musical instruments, sound systems, and power point presentations are bad things. However, I do believe that sometimes, in America, we get caught up in those things and forget why we are at church. I think that we get worried when we hit a wrong note or the sound system screeches or our voices are out of tune or hoarse. I think we get caught up more in ourselves. After all, isn’t that what we are worried about when something doesn’t go quite our way during a worship service? Worship can easily become a pride issue (about me) instead of a God encounter (about Him). Worship, in America, many times becomes something we do or something we perform. In Africa, they know who their God is. They were committed to Him and the plans and purposes that He has for the people and their community. They know that He is their sustenance. They know that without Him they are nothing and that with Him they are everything in Christ Jesus. They recognize and understand their lostness and know who their Deliver and Redeemer is. In such a place where life literally hangs on the edge of death, they are thankful for just another day of living. For them, church is the culmination of their week. They know they need it, they feed on it and they are thankful for it. They come because they are committed to God and love and honor Him.
Every person came to church with the expectation that God was present and they responded accordingly. We sang, we danced we worshiped with boldness and uplifted hands. These people know their God and they also know that God knows and loves them. There were two offerings a freewill offering and the tithe offering. The tithe offering plate was up front. If you gave to the tithe you had to physically walk up front and put it in the basket. The freewill offering was passed from person to person while still seated. It was interesting because there was a young lady who reached down into her pocket and took out a small coin. She put in the offering. She noticed that the girl next to her did not have anything to put in. The young lady reached back down into her pocket and pulled out another coin and gave it to the girl next to her so she could put something in as well. At the end of church this same young lady had a sucker that someone had given her. She took the sucker and bit it into 5 different pieces. She handed out those 5 pieces to 5 little girls that were around her. She took none for herself. This young lady reminds me of the woman who put the 2 mites into the offering in the New Testament. These people literally have nothing to give but yet give all that they have. They know, understand and act upon what true giving is in the Bible. I am sure that Jesus is pleased and smiles greatly when He sees this heart of love from His children.
The service is done in both Swahili and English. Believe it or not but I stayed within my 15 minute time frame. That means that I spoke in English for 15 minutes and Pastor Daniel translated for 15 minutes in Swahili. After speaking I also taught them a song in Swahili. Trust me it was really basic and simple. I wish I could describe the presence of God that was felt in that place. Two cultures, totally different, worshipping in both Swahili and English, how awesome is that? Even though there was a slight language barrier we all knew that we were in God’s presence and that there was unity between us and that we worshipped the same God in one accord.
One village that we visited told us about the land that they had purchased for their site. The Pastor shared that in American dollars it would be $600 for one acre. He went on to share how each person gave as they could. Some donated a portion of their crops, a goat, chicken or cow. The leaders in the village gave a portion of their income. It took a few years to raise the money. But, they shared what they had and the land was purchased. This same village had a need to purchase another acre of land because they had already out grown their location. The cost was another $600.
The last night that we were in Malindi our team took up an offering for various needs in the villages. The needs were one acre of land ($600), 7 pairs of goats ($35/pair=$245), a love offering for the two nationals that spent 11 days away from their families so they could be with us, and money to cover the laundry costs ($150) for the clothing that we were leaving behind for the villages. We had four buckets, one for each need. Because of God’s grace and His provision almost $1,500 was placed in those buckets, collectively. Each bucket contained more than enough to cover each need. Our nationals were blessed as well. God is so good!
Todd and I are proud new sponsors of a little girl who resides near the Hosanna Child Development Center. She is 7 years old. Her father is a farmer and she has 3 brothers and sisters. Prior to our sponsorship she was unable to go to school. She enjoys rolling old tires and playing ball with her friends. With our sponsorship she will receive schooling, a uniform, medical screenings and one full well balanced meal a day. I look forward to how God is going to work in this little girl’s life. I look forward to writing her and hearing back from her. I think I may have even met her before I knew who we were going to sponsor. See, we were getting ready to leave one of the villages and I remember a little girl whose name was Mpenzie. We hugged and spoke briefly. I don’t know if it’s the same one or not but it certainly could be.
Prior to going I wasn’t sure if we could afford sponsoring a child. Before I left I realized that we couldn’t afford not to sponsor a child. After all, we are talking scaling back our budget a little more than $1/day. I drink more pop than that in a month, Todd smokes that in 3-4 days and there have been occasions when we have gone out to eat with the family where we’ve spent that much on one meal. I saw first hand the despair of the Nairobi slums and the hope of what a mere $34/month does for one child when they are sponsored through Mission of Mercy. One child does matter. One child can change the world. One child can and will make a difference. If, by chance, you are interested in sponsoring a child you can go to www.missionofmercy.org or call 1-800-864-0200.
Remember when I said that they had waited for two years for us to come and the preparations that had to be made? There was a lot of planning in this trip both on the American and the African side. It involved people from the greatest to the least and the youngest to the oldest. I wonder, and this is a question for me as well. Jesus is coming again and His Word talks about His return and a great wedding feast. Generation after generation has waited and the clock continues to tick. I have to ask myself, what am I doing to prepare for His coming? Am I as excited about Jesus’ return as these people were about our coming to Africa? Will I be ready? Will I greet Him with great rejoicing, singing, dancing and praise? Will I lay down the branches at His feet as He enters? When I think in these terms I realize just how much work God still has to do within me. If these people can welcome us like they did and we are only people, then how much more do I have to prepare for the return of Jesus Christ.? I, for one, still have some preparing to do. How about you? Are you ready?
Every day I experienced and was reminded of different Bible verses, stories and parables. Every day was a blessing from God both for them and me. You were as much a part, if not more, in my going. I thank you, again, for your prayers, encouragement and monetary contributions that made this trip possible. Because of you these people were loved on, ministered to, and encouraged. When I told them about how you had sent me they would weep. When I showed them your pictures they cried again. See, they were excited about the coming of the Americans to their villages and waited with great anticipation. In our going we were able to take to them God’s love and your love. We were able to assist them in some of their work projects such as digging ditches and latrines, putting on metal roofs, mudding huts, laying water pipe and plastering. We were able to teach the children about Jesus through love, hugs, songs, stories and just plain playing. They will always remember our coming and I will be forever grateful in being sent. It was life altering for both them and I.
Again, thank you so very much. I know that this was a very long communication and that it took time in it’s coming to you. I have many more written pages that would take volumes of paper to fill.
With Much Love and Thankfulness,
Carla “CJ” Giese
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