The Story Continues...
Over the months, bit by bit I have been telling of the vision that God has placed within my heart to visit & care for the sick within their homes. This time, I want to continue, in that, by telling you the story of a man named Timone. If I were to describe what I feel most called to and passionate about, Timone’s situation is it.
He is an educated man who was once a husband, father, & successful businessman. Now, in his mid-thirties, his life has little remnants of what used to be. The consequences of HIV/AIDS have left his physical body wasted, filled with pain, and unable to eat or control even his most basic body functions. Because of neurological impairment, he has significant right sided weakness & his speech is very limited. But it only takes one look into his eyes to understand, at least in part, the story he is unable to speak. Abandoned by his family, he can be found sitting alone within his little hut on any given day. He’s tired & alone. Upon our initial visits, the clinic staff & I found Timone hungry & dirty. We began visiting Timone regularly in order to build a relationship & to care for the most basic needs of this broken man. We started with the obvious needs by cooking foods (he could actually eat) and assisting him with bathing, laundry, & other household chores.
As time has passed, I’ve learned that Timone & I share a love for music And so we sing. In actuality, he hums as I attempt to accompany him in my broken Swahili or Kalenjiin; nonetheless, his face lights up leaving both of our eyes filled with tears. Translated from Kalenjiin, the words of his favorite song say: “ Let the hand of the Lord take care of me until I go home.”
Although this may sound strange, sitting with Timone is often the closest I feel to Jesus. In Matthew 25, Jesus tells us a story in which he says: “I was hungry and you fed me, thirsty and you gave me a drink; I was sick and you took care of me”... When asked, “when did this happen?”, Jesus simply replied: “whenever you did it unto the least of these, you did it to me”. Just prior to my coming to Kenya, I read a quote by Mother Teresa in which she said: “Each AIDS victim is Jesus in a distressing disguise”. Believing this is what God was calling me to do, I wrote a song in reflection of these words. The lyrics read:
See You…
Little hands- tear stained eyes.
Wasted bodies. Endless cries.
In a world, so hard to understand-
Jesus, I see it’s your hands.
Broken hearts- Tired of the fight.
Afraid & alone with death in sight.
In their world, so hard to understand-
Jesus, I see it’s your hands,
It’s your feet, & your heart.
And I want to touch you &
Serve you all of my days.
I love you, because you first loved me.
Jesus, help me to see that when I look deeper-
It is you who is looking back at me.
Jesus, help me to see- It’s you.
Even though it’s just a glimpse, I am getting see Jesus; and I must tell you, it is in what might seem to be the most unlikely of places.
A Kenyan Christmas...
As I wrote in my last update, I knew that Christmas would be a different experience this year. I desired for it to be different, and it was. It was a simple season but rich with precious moments and priceless gifts…
Much of the week proceeding Christmas, I spent in Ilula at the children’s home where there are currently 85 children living. It was an amazing blessing as my sister’s company sent 7 large packages full of clothes, toys, Christmas decorations & toiletry items for the kids. Tears filled my eyes as I opened the boxes- most of these kids have never had a single toy. Over the past months, they have come one by one to this home barefoot with only the clothes on their backs. Their eyes wideopen and wondering where life was taking them next. One of the parents, upon seeing the boxes, said: "I have no words to say- surely God is good." And I wish there was a way to truly capture the smiles upon each child’s face as they received their gifts- it is a moment I am not soon to forget.
I also had the opportunity to take food and supplies to Timone. I was surprised, upon arriving to his home, to find his 5 year old son had come to visit his dad for a few weeks over the Christmas holiday. Little Kipchumba’s presence had brought a smile that was rare to see upon Timone’s face. Again, I was grateful for the good gifts that only God could give.
Last, but definitely not least, I had the privelege to take food & supplies to the home of Edwin. He is the 12 year old boy in late stage heart failure that I wrote about a few months ago. Thank you for your continued prayers for he and his family. He continues on medications to help filter out the excess fluid that fills his abdomen and is surrounding his heart, and his abdomen is at least half the size it was when I met him. I walked up to where his family lives & told his mom & brother that there were things for them in the car. The next thing I know- Edwin is running down the hill to the car with this huge smile upon his face. It was an incredible miracle to watch. On Christmas morning, I was amazed when Edwin & 2 of his sisters walked over 2 miles to the training center. Upon arriving, Edwin explained that they had come to go to the Christmas service at church. Again, my heart was overwhelmed by the gifts God was allowing us to receive & experience.
There are not enough words to express the gratefulness I feel within my heart for the continued prayers and generous support I’ve received throughout the past year. But I thank you & pray the blessings of God would fill your lives throughout the coming new year.
Tuesday, December 28, 2004
Wednesday, December 01, 2004
Christmas at the Manger
It’s hard to believe Christmas season has come… To say the least, it has a very different feeling this year. In my little village, we don’t experience the hustle & bustle of shopping, there are no holiday parties to attend, no hopes for a white Christmas, and no trees to decorate or Santa Claus to visit in the mall. Life feels somehow the same as every other day; and yet, there is a clear understanding that there is reason to celebrate.
This season I’ve been reminded again of my first trip to Kenya. I’ll never forget wallking down that dirt path only to find a young pregnant lady named Christine in labor and ready to deliver. She had walked several miles, having heard there was a nurse in the village, and I was the one she had found. I remember thinking, “this is no place or way for a baby to be born”; and yet, that is exactly what was about to happen. Just down the path, there was a small mud hut that became a delivery room. Little Joshua was born on a dirty floor made of cow dung without complication, and God’s peace and presence filled that place in a way I had never experienced before. I was amazed to later learn that the people who were gracious enough to open their home were named Mary & Joseph. After that day, the humble birth of Jesus took on a whole new meaning to me.
Over the past few weeks, I have been blessed with a little taste of home as my parents and a team from their church in Redding, California have come to visit Kip Karen. Without doubt, one of the highlights of their trip was the night we celebrated Christmas together. Yes, it was a bit early as it proceeded December 25 by a few weeks; nonetheless, an unforgettable night. With great love & care, the team had brought presents for each member of the family I live with and myself. After opening my presents, I was thankful for the generosity of gifts given; but in my spirit, I needed something more. I desired what “things” could not provide me.
As we prepared to continue with the party, I explained to the team: “to truly celebrate, there’s not enough room in this inn”. They didn’t really understand what was about to take place; but through the rainy night, we made our way to the stables & simply stood at the manger. Among the animals, we read the Christmas story with a greater understanding of what actually took place that first Christmas. It was not glamorous and the most unlikely place for the Saviour of the world to be born; and yet, it was the way he chose to come and be among us. Tears streamed down my face as the words of the old Christmas carol kept running through my head: “Away in a manger, no crib for a bed. The little, Lord Jesus laid down his sweet head. The stars in the sky looked down where he lay. The little, Lord Jesus asleep on the hay.”
I wondered, what kind of love would allow Jesus to come to the world in this way? I still wonder… I do pray that your Christmas will be blessed and filled with great joy. And just maybe, through the busyness of the season, you can find your way back to the manger. It is an incredible place to go- it’s where God chose to come.
Sunday, October 31, 2004
5 Loaves & 2 Fish
Coming home.
I send greetings from my new home in the village of Kipkaren. I am grateful that God has called me to come and live this season of life in this place. Throughout the community, I have been welcomed with rich hospitality by both old and new friends. One of the first people to greet me was a little 4 year old boy named Daudi, a child I delivered my first trip to Kenya. It’s hard to describe the feelings I felt in seeing this child again, but it was definitely a moment I was reminded of the faithfulness of God.
I wish each of you could also experience the view from the front door of my hut which overlooks the Kipkaren River. It is truly a beautiful sight and peace-filled place.
Grace to care.
Within days of arriving to the village, I met a 12 year old boy named Edwin. His story and life have touched my heart deeply. I ask that you pray for him and his family as their lives are filled with great challenges. I met Edwin while he was in a local hospital in the town of Eldoret. Although his smile would tell otherwise, his grossly distended abdomen revealed that he was gravely sick. His cardiac workup confirmed that he is in late stage heart failure with no treatment options available. He was sent home and is currently on medication to help filter out the excess fluid that fills his abdomen and is surrounding his heart. The reality of his situation allowed me to realize again the need for home-based care. Allison Tjaden, my dear friend and co-worker with ELI, and I have begun to visit Edwin & his family about once a week. I tell you, some of my favorite moments have been spent simply sitting under a tree with this little boy & his family. We shell the recently harvested maize, listen to Edwin’s radio, and attempt to learn the Kalenjiin language. Basic physical assessments are done and we pray together. In the midst of the challenges, I am learning that joy is found in meeting people simply where they are. I ask you to join me in praying for the compassion and grace to care for this family in a way that will allow them to experience the love of God.
Orphanage update.
Since my last update, the number of children living at the children’s home has grown to 50. These little ones are so full of life and doing very well. Please continue to pray for the entire children’s home staff and these precious children.
Need realized.
In my last update, I reported that I would be attending a training on the implementation of home-based care. It was timely that the day before I was scheduled to go I attended the funeral of a 30 year old man named Amos. I know little about his life; but his death, due to AIDS, allowed me to realize again the deep need that exists within this community. These words, written within my journal, were reflections of a hard day but also represent the prayers of my heart: “I need to surrender these heavy burdens that accompany this day. Passions that are deep within me are now developing into realities; and yet, they are harsh and way bigger than myself. My heart was grieved today over Amos’ lost life and also what he left behind. Two small boys watched as their father was lowered into the ground. A widow wept. A mother sat in shock and silence as her second child, in two months, was buried. A community gathered and supported each other, but an unspoken reality also rang crystal clear. Another life was stolen and shortened by AIDS. Today, AIDS was not about statistics. It was not about research or academic pursuit. Today, there were two little boys, a widow, and grieving parents who buried a man they loved. There is a monster in this land; and there are challenges, that apart from God, are impossible. This is not about programs or my plans, but I pray that the love of God can be implemented into action.”
The next morning, I traveled with several others from the clinic staff to be trained on practical ways to implement holistic care within homes using local resources. The training was led by a Kenyan lady who has been running a home-based care program for HIV/AIDS patients in a slum area outside of Nairobi. The stories she shared, from her experiences, were inspiring to say the least. I t was a great two days of learning and dreaming, and I am excited to see how God is going to use these ideas and knowledge learned to care for the sick within the community of Kipkaren. The overwhelming need that fills this place reminds me of the story found in Matthew 14:15-21. Jesus, recognizing the hungry people, had compassion on them and told the disciples: “They don’t need to go away. You give them something to eat.” The resources they had were a mere five loaves of bread & two fish; but when surrendered to Jesus, it met the needs of a multitude. I,too, find myself in the midst of a multitude with great needs and hear Jesus reminding me: “They don’t need to go away. You give them something to eat.” So, I’ll offer the five loaves of bread and two fish and trust Jesus to multiply it. Thank you for your continued prayers and support.
I send greetings from my new home in the village of Kipkaren. I am grateful that God has called me to come and live this season of life in this place. Throughout the community, I have been welcomed with rich hospitality by both old and new friends. One of the first people to greet me was a little 4 year old boy named Daudi, a child I delivered my first trip to Kenya. It’s hard to describe the feelings I felt in seeing this child again, but it was definitely a moment I was reminded of the faithfulness of God.
I wish each of you could also experience the view from the front door of my hut which overlooks the Kipkaren River. It is truly a beautiful sight and peace-filled place.
Grace to care.
Within days of arriving to the village, I met a 12 year old boy named Edwin. His story and life have touched my heart deeply. I ask that you pray for him and his family as their lives are filled with great challenges. I met Edwin while he was in a local hospital in the town of Eldoret. Although his smile would tell otherwise, his grossly distended abdomen revealed that he was gravely sick. His cardiac workup confirmed that he is in late stage heart failure with no treatment options available. He was sent home and is currently on medication to help filter out the excess fluid that fills his abdomen and is surrounding his heart. The reality of his situation allowed me to realize again the need for home-based care. Allison Tjaden, my dear friend and co-worker with ELI, and I have begun to visit Edwin & his family about once a week. I tell you, some of my favorite moments have been spent simply sitting under a tree with this little boy & his family. We shell the recently harvested maize, listen to Edwin’s radio, and attempt to learn the Kalenjiin language. Basic physical assessments are done and we pray together. In the midst of the challenges, I am learning that joy is found in meeting people simply where they are. I ask you to join me in praying for the compassion and grace to care for this family in a way that will allow them to experience the love of God.
Orphanage update.
Since my last update, the number of children living at the children’s home has grown to 50. These little ones are so full of life and doing very well. Please continue to pray for the entire children’s home staff and these precious children.
Need realized.
In my last update, I reported that I would be attending a training on the implementation of home-based care. It was timely that the day before I was scheduled to go I attended the funeral of a 30 year old man named Amos. I know little about his life; but his death, due to AIDS, allowed me to realize again the deep need that exists within this community. These words, written within my journal, were reflections of a hard day but also represent the prayers of my heart: “I need to surrender these heavy burdens that accompany this day. Passions that are deep within me are now developing into realities; and yet, they are harsh and way bigger than myself. My heart was grieved today over Amos’ lost life and also what he left behind. Two small boys watched as their father was lowered into the ground. A widow wept. A mother sat in shock and silence as her second child, in two months, was buried. A community gathered and supported each other, but an unspoken reality also rang crystal clear. Another life was stolen and shortened by AIDS. Today, AIDS was not about statistics. It was not about research or academic pursuit. Today, there were two little boys, a widow, and grieving parents who buried a man they loved. There is a monster in this land; and there are challenges, that apart from God, are impossible. This is not about programs or my plans, but I pray that the love of God can be implemented into action.”
The next morning, I traveled with several others from the clinic staff to be trained on practical ways to implement holistic care within homes using local resources. The training was led by a Kenyan lady who has been running a home-based care program for HIV/AIDS patients in a slum area outside of Nairobi. The stories she shared, from her experiences, were inspiring to say the least. I t was a great two days of learning and dreaming, and I am excited to see how God is going to use these ideas and knowledge learned to care for the sick within the community of Kipkaren. The overwhelming need that fills this place reminds me of the story found in Matthew 14:15-21. Jesus, recognizing the hungry people, had compassion on them and told the disciples: “They don’t need to go away. You give them something to eat.” The resources they had were a mere five loaves of bread & two fish; but when surrendered to Jesus, it met the needs of a multitude. I,too, find myself in the midst of a multitude with great needs and hear Jesus reminding me: “They don’t need to go away. You give them something to eat.” So, I’ll offer the five loaves of bread and two fish and trust Jesus to multiply it. Thank you for your continued prayers and support.
Wednesday, September 22, 2004
Learning to trust
Stories to share...
It is a dream come true to be back in Kenya and working with Empowering Lives International. It is an exciting season as we are in the process of starting an orphanage in the village of Ilula, but it is also a time when the harsh reality of AIDS is very present. It is estimated that there are already over 1.2 million orphans in Kenya alone. As we gratefully received our first 10 orphans this past week to the children’s home, there are now little faces with names and hard stories to accompany that overwhelming statistic. I want to share the story of one. His name is Benson Kip Too.
His story is like so many others… His father died, and his mother followed a short time after. Her fresh grave, just a small distance from the hut remains as a constant reminder. Benson is one of nine children left behind, and His grandmother has taken them in but does not have resources to meet even the most basic needs of these children. It’s impossible to adequately describe in words the feelings I experienced in going to this home. There was so much suffering. We took Benson, who is 7, and his little 3 year old sister for HIV screening. Upon leaving the compound, the 11 year old brother began running after us. He was screaming and crying: “take me too”. Because of the abundance of need, ELI has decided to start the home by accepting children 3-9 years old. I can't begin to tell you the heaviness and brokenness that filled my heart at having to leave him behind. I will not ever forget the sound of his cries. Upon testing the kids for HIV, the 3 year old was diagnosed with HIV. Again, because we do not have the facilities to care adequately for kids with AIDS at this time, we were unable to accept the little girl into the home.
My heart was broken once again for these little ones who desperately need help. As great as the sorrow, I also rejoiced because the silent cries of a little boy named Benson had been heard. He came to the children’s home hungry, dirty and broken; but it is clear, he has come to a place where there is hope again. There are parents who love these children and are taking them as their own. There is food to eat. There are clothes to wear. There is an opportunity to go to school and be raised in an environment where love is given. On the day Benson arrived at the orphanage, there were five other orphans that sat in our laps as we drove to Ilula. One little boy began yelling, “tunaenda nymbani”. It says it all: “we are going home”.
With much thanks…
There is so much to be grateful for. I’ve been encouraged time and again by the emails so many have sent- it somehow makes the worlds that we are apart smaller. I was able to talk to my parents by phone the other day; ironically, I had better reception in the jungles of Africa than I typically would have on a good day in Los Angeles. It’s seems a bit strange- I don’t have electricity or running water, but we do have the availability of cell phones. But for it, I am grateful.
Thank you for all of the prayers you have prayed. God has granted me safe journeys as I’ve traveled many miles. I have been welcomed back by my friends in Kenya so graciously. There have already been many moments that I’ve just had to stand back in awe at the ways in which God is confirming this desire within my heart to care for AIDS patients through home-based care. The second day I was in Kenya, I met a lady who works as a social worker for an organization that is already implementing home-based care within the same area as I will be living. She has invited me, after I return from language school, to meet her co-workers and to go on home visits to see the care that is being given through this program. I also have learned of a 2 day training being offered in a nearby village on this very topic of home-based care and will be attending in mid-October. All of this to say, I know that God has been preparing me for this season of ministry.
I am currently in Arusha, Tanzania at a 3 week intensive school to study Swahili. There is much to learn; but bit by bit, I am getting it. Thank you for your continued prayers for me in this area. I am looking forward to returning to Kipkaren, Kenya to make use of all that I am learning.
Learning to trust…
If I were to describe this journey of returning to Africa in a phrase, it would be this one: I’m learning to trust. As I adjust to life within a new culture and am daily confronted with harsh realities that are difficult for me to understand, I keep being reminded that: “The Lord is a refuge for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble. Those who know Your name will trust in You, for You, Lord have never forsaken those who seek You" (Psalm 9:9-10). In Ruthless Trust, Brennan Manning sums up this theme with these words: “The reality of naked trust is the life of a pilgrim who leaves the nailed down, obvious, and secure, and walks into the unknown without any rational explanation to justify the decision or guarantee the future. Why? Because God has signaled the movement and offered it his presence and his promise”. Moment by moment, God is teaching me to trust Him and allowing me to walk in freedom simply as His child.
It is a dream come true to be back in Kenya and working with Empowering Lives International. It is an exciting season as we are in the process of starting an orphanage in the village of Ilula, but it is also a time when the harsh reality of AIDS is very present. It is estimated that there are already over 1.2 million orphans in Kenya alone. As we gratefully received our first 10 orphans this past week to the children’s home, there are now little faces with names and hard stories to accompany that overwhelming statistic. I want to share the story of one. His name is Benson Kip Too.
His story is like so many others… His father died, and his mother followed a short time after. Her fresh grave, just a small distance from the hut remains as a constant reminder. Benson is one of nine children left behind, and His grandmother has taken them in but does not have resources to meet even the most basic needs of these children. It’s impossible to adequately describe in words the feelings I experienced in going to this home. There was so much suffering. We took Benson, who is 7, and his little 3 year old sister for HIV screening. Upon leaving the compound, the 11 year old brother began running after us. He was screaming and crying: “take me too”. Because of the abundance of need, ELI has decided to start the home by accepting children 3-9 years old. I can't begin to tell you the heaviness and brokenness that filled my heart at having to leave him behind. I will not ever forget the sound of his cries. Upon testing the kids for HIV, the 3 year old was diagnosed with HIV. Again, because we do not have the facilities to care adequately for kids with AIDS at this time, we were unable to accept the little girl into the home.
My heart was broken once again for these little ones who desperately need help. As great as the sorrow, I also rejoiced because the silent cries of a little boy named Benson had been heard. He came to the children’s home hungry, dirty and broken; but it is clear, he has come to a place where there is hope again. There are parents who love these children and are taking them as their own. There is food to eat. There are clothes to wear. There is an opportunity to go to school and be raised in an environment where love is given. On the day Benson arrived at the orphanage, there were five other orphans that sat in our laps as we drove to Ilula. One little boy began yelling, “tunaenda nymbani”. It says it all: “we are going home”.
With much thanks…
There is so much to be grateful for. I’ve been encouraged time and again by the emails so many have sent- it somehow makes the worlds that we are apart smaller. I was able to talk to my parents by phone the other day; ironically, I had better reception in the jungles of Africa than I typically would have on a good day in Los Angeles. It’s seems a bit strange- I don’t have electricity or running water, but we do have the availability of cell phones. But for it, I am grateful.
Thank you for all of the prayers you have prayed. God has granted me safe journeys as I’ve traveled many miles. I have been welcomed back by my friends in Kenya so graciously. There have already been many moments that I’ve just had to stand back in awe at the ways in which God is confirming this desire within my heart to care for AIDS patients through home-based care. The second day I was in Kenya, I met a lady who works as a social worker for an organization that is already implementing home-based care within the same area as I will be living. She has invited me, after I return from language school, to meet her co-workers and to go on home visits to see the care that is being given through this program. I also have learned of a 2 day training being offered in a nearby village on this very topic of home-based care and will be attending in mid-October. All of this to say, I know that God has been preparing me for this season of ministry.
I am currently in Arusha, Tanzania at a 3 week intensive school to study Swahili. There is much to learn; but bit by bit, I am getting it. Thank you for your continued prayers for me in this area. I am looking forward to returning to Kipkaren, Kenya to make use of all that I am learning.
Learning to trust…
If I were to describe this journey of returning to Africa in a phrase, it would be this one: I’m learning to trust. As I adjust to life within a new culture and am daily confronted with harsh realities that are difficult for me to understand, I keep being reminded that: “The Lord is a refuge for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble. Those who know Your name will trust in You, for You, Lord have never forsaken those who seek You" (Psalm 9:9-10). In Ruthless Trust, Brennan Manning sums up this theme with these words: “The reality of naked trust is the life of a pilgrim who leaves the nailed down, obvious, and secure, and walks into the unknown without any rational explanation to justify the decision or guarantee the future. Why? Because God has signaled the movement and offered it his presence and his promise”. Moment by moment, God is teaching me to trust Him and allowing me to walk in freedom simply as His child.
Tuesday, August 03, 2004
Compelled to go
Four years ago I left for Kipkaren, a small village in Kenya, Africa, willing to be used to minister to the people physically, yet painfully aware of my own inadequacies as a nurse. I was unaware that this four-week mission trip would change my life. I helped deliver a baby on the floor of a mud hut. And I washed the open sores of a man dying of AIDS. I experienced brokenness and poverty. At the same time, I saw rich joy and inexpressible faith. I encountered a people and a culture that captured my heart and I knew I had found a place to serve.
But I had more to learn first. I earned my bachelor’s degree in nursing at Azusa Pacific University and have been working in the infectious disease unit at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center for the past two and a half years. After two more summer trips to Kenya, I realized that to truly give quality care, I would need even more education. In September 2002 I went back to school at Cal State Los Angeles to get my Masters in Nursing, with an emphasis in international healthcare, and become a Family Nurse Practitioner. I am currently in the process of completing my final project, creating a framework in which music is utilized within the home-based palliative care settings in Kenya to educate the family and caregiver and to promote dignity for HIV/AIDS patients during the dying process. My heart cries:
I see you, I hear you,
Though no words you say.
You are not alone,
You are not unknown.
Though sorrow may last for this night
May joy come with morning’s light
As peace rests upon your soul,
For you are not alone.
These are the lyrics of the song I’m writing for my final project, an example of the music that will be used to educate and to minister to the people of Africa where AIDS has ravaged through cities and villages indiscriminately destroying the physical, emotional and spiritual aspects of life. The implications of this disease have affected not only individuals and families but also communities and a continent at large. Within Kenya alone, it is estimated that nearly 2.5 million people are living with HIV/AIDS. Over 500 people die of AIDS every day, most between the ages of 15 and 49.
It has been said that “the ultimate tragedy is depersonalization – dying in an alien and sterile environment, separated from the spiritual nourishment that comes from being able to reach out to a loving hand, separated from a desire to experience the things that make life worth living, separated from hope.” AIDS has done this to too many in Kenya – it has stripped them of their dignity and left them to die by themselves. This is the burden God has put on my heart: that people should not have to die alone.
So this September I will be returning to Kipkaren to work with Empowering Lives International, a small non-profit organization working in Central and East Africa. ELI’s mission is to “empower the poor and oppressed that they may be able to know, worship and serve God without hindrance, and to motivate and involve others worldwide to invest their lives and gifts in this same mission.” They are dedicated to helping people in impoverished countries recognize their importance in the eyes of God and to breaking the cycle of poverty that chokes out the potential and hope for a better life physically and spiritually. For more information on ELI, please visit www.empoweringlives.org.
While in Kipkaren, I will be working out of a small clinic doing community development and health education and caring for the medical needs of the people there. Once a week I will travel to Ilula, a village in which ELI will be opening an orphanage, where I will be in charge of the health of these children. I will also be in the Congo for about a month where I will be doing physical examinations including immunizations and de-worming for 277 children at a school in the slums.
Already as I prepare to leave, I have been overwhelmed with the way God has brought people into my life to partner with me in this ministry. I know that I cannot accomplish the things He has called me to without the ongoing support of family and friends. One of the greatest ways you can support me is through constant prayer. Pray for wisdom to know how to best educate the Kenyan people about the consequences of AIDS in such a way that it will lead to true life change. Pray that the cycles of disease will be broken. And pray that God’s love for these people will be recognized and received through the physical touch we are able to provide.
I am amazed and truly humbled when I consider the journey that has led me to this place.
My life has been transformed as God has revealed His heart for the financially poor and the poor in spirit. Step by step He has been placing within me a passion to join Him in such a powerful way that moving to Kenya does not feel like a huge leap. It’s simply another step. Without a doubt, the challenges ahead are vast. The AIDS crisis alone feels overwhelmingly too hopeless to face, but it is real and must not be ignored. It is the love of Christ that compels me to go; and I do so, utterly dependent on the God who says He is able.
But I had more to learn first. I earned my bachelor’s degree in nursing at Azusa Pacific University and have been working in the infectious disease unit at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center for the past two and a half years. After two more summer trips to Kenya, I realized that to truly give quality care, I would need even more education. In September 2002 I went back to school at Cal State Los Angeles to get my Masters in Nursing, with an emphasis in international healthcare, and become a Family Nurse Practitioner. I am currently in the process of completing my final project, creating a framework in which music is utilized within the home-based palliative care settings in Kenya to educate the family and caregiver and to promote dignity for HIV/AIDS patients during the dying process. My heart cries:
I see you, I hear you,
Though no words you say.
You are not alone,
You are not unknown.
Though sorrow may last for this night
May joy come with morning’s light
As peace rests upon your soul,
For you are not alone.
These are the lyrics of the song I’m writing for my final project, an example of the music that will be used to educate and to minister to the people of Africa where AIDS has ravaged through cities and villages indiscriminately destroying the physical, emotional and spiritual aspects of life. The implications of this disease have affected not only individuals and families but also communities and a continent at large. Within Kenya alone, it is estimated that nearly 2.5 million people are living with HIV/AIDS. Over 500 people die of AIDS every day, most between the ages of 15 and 49.
It has been said that “the ultimate tragedy is depersonalization – dying in an alien and sterile environment, separated from the spiritual nourishment that comes from being able to reach out to a loving hand, separated from a desire to experience the things that make life worth living, separated from hope.” AIDS has done this to too many in Kenya – it has stripped them of their dignity and left them to die by themselves. This is the burden God has put on my heart: that people should not have to die alone.
So this September I will be returning to Kipkaren to work with Empowering Lives International, a small non-profit organization working in Central and East Africa. ELI’s mission is to “empower the poor and oppressed that they may be able to know, worship and serve God without hindrance, and to motivate and involve others worldwide to invest their lives and gifts in this same mission.” They are dedicated to helping people in impoverished countries recognize their importance in the eyes of God and to breaking the cycle of poverty that chokes out the potential and hope for a better life physically and spiritually. For more information on ELI, please visit www.empoweringlives.org.
While in Kipkaren, I will be working out of a small clinic doing community development and health education and caring for the medical needs of the people there. Once a week I will travel to Ilula, a village in which ELI will be opening an orphanage, where I will be in charge of the health of these children. I will also be in the Congo for about a month where I will be doing physical examinations including immunizations and de-worming for 277 children at a school in the slums.
Already as I prepare to leave, I have been overwhelmed with the way God has brought people into my life to partner with me in this ministry. I know that I cannot accomplish the things He has called me to without the ongoing support of family and friends. One of the greatest ways you can support me is through constant prayer. Pray for wisdom to know how to best educate the Kenyan people about the consequences of AIDS in such a way that it will lead to true life change. Pray that the cycles of disease will be broken. And pray that God’s love for these people will be recognized and received through the physical touch we are able to provide.
I am amazed and truly humbled when I consider the journey that has led me to this place.
My life has been transformed as God has revealed His heart for the financially poor and the poor in spirit. Step by step He has been placing within me a passion to join Him in such a powerful way that moving to Kenya does not feel like a huge leap. It’s simply another step. Without a doubt, the challenges ahead are vast. The AIDS crisis alone feels overwhelmingly too hopeless to face, but it is real and must not be ignored. It is the love of Christ that compels me to go; and I do so, utterly dependent on the God who says He is able.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
