Yesterday, I returned to the village I call home. The brilliant colors of green that filled the land were more than a beautiful sight. It indicated that rain has come, that prayers have been answered. Corn, the staple food of this community, was growing in the fields. As I turned the corner leading to my house, I saw the line of a couple hundred people waiting to receive me. Both children and adults waved with both hands and greeted me with the biggest smiles as I pulled up on the unpaved road. For a few moments, all work ceased. School classes were even interrupted so the children could welcome me home. I must confess, as often as I have participated in “welcome ceremonies,” they continue to amaze me.
Through the generous hospitality extended to me, I was yet again reminded of the beauty of living in community. Kipchumba was at the front of the line with flowers for me. His bright eyes reminded me of Timon, his father whom I miss so dearly, but they also told me that God surely is a Father to the fatherless. The 96 children I welcomed this past year to the ELI Children’s Home as orphans were now welcoming me. Betty, one of my beloved patients and friends, wiped tears from her eyes. It tenderly reminded me of the love of Christ. My heart was full, and I was grateful.
In the evening, a party was hosted with forty of my neighbors and friends. We shared stories and ate together. The night was simple. It was filled with joy. They welcomed me back home as one of their own.
Love in action. In Kipkaren, we often say that we wake up with a plan for the day, but we must leave space for God to interrupt our plans. This morning I traveled to a neighboring town to attend the opening ceremony of an income-generating project for people living with HIV/AIDS. On my way, I stopped by the nearby AIDS clinic and learned of a young woman named Monica who was HIV+.
Monica’s story quickly threw me back into the harsh reality of what it looks like to be poor and to live with AIDS. The 31-year-old mother of two was under treatment for tuberculosis and had woken up critically ill. Without access to a car, or means to take a cab, she was forced to travel on the back of an open truck and then walk to reach the clinic. Her mother supported her weak body, but by the time they arrived at the clinic, Monica was gasping for air. She passed away before she could be treated.
If this were not traumatic enough, Monica’s mother had no way to transport her daughter’s body home to be buried.
As I stood in the examination room with this grieving mother, these words ran through my head: “If any of you has possessions and sees his brother in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of God be in you? Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but in action and in truth” (1 John 3:16-18). I chose to listen to the Voice that was calling me to love.
With the help of several of my Kenyan friends, we bought a blanket and a mattress and carried Monica’s lifeless body to our car. We drove her home to be buried. We grieved with a family over the loss of their daughter, their sister, and—for two precious children—the loss of their mother. Once again, I was struck today by the cruelty of HIV/AIDS. It seeks only to steal, kill, and destroy life—and not from the infected alone. But I was also reminded of an even greater truth: God is love. He has entrusted us, His children, to extend Him, through compassion, to the oppressed and broken-hearted. This alone is the hope for this broken world.
Kipchumba. As I mentioned above and have written before, Kipchumba is a young boy whose father passed away earlier this year. He is in the fourth grade and attends ELI’s Brook of Faith Academy in Kipkaren. I wanted to give you a brief update on this beloved little boy…
Each month, the students take an exam covering all of their subjects. They are then ranked according to their performance. Upon my arrival, the principal proudly reported that Kipchumba was number one out of the thirty students in his class. He also said that he has
begun to talk more with students and teachers as well as participate in other activities. One of his exams included writing an essay about his parents. I was, to say the least, very humbled when I read his paper in which he talked about me. I had no idea how this young boy viewed me as a parent. This is a portion of what he wrote:
My parent is Juli. When there was no school fees, she paid for me. She loves me so much! She can’t forget me. When my father was sick, she was coming to see him. When my father got lost, she took me as her boy. When we did exams, she came to school to see my performance. She always comes in the evening to see if I am continuing well. I thank God for giving me a good parent.
Like Kipchumba, I thank God for the ways He is working in this child’s life and for the role He is allowing me to play. Thank you for your continued prayers for Kipchumba.
Kipchumba. As I mentioned above and have written before, Kipchumba is a young boy whose father passed away earlier this year. He is in the fourth grade and attends ELI’s Brook of Faith Academy in Kipkaren. I wanted to give you a brief update on this beloved little boy…
Each month, the students take an exam covering all of their subjects. They are then ranked according to their performance. Upon my arrival, the principal proudly reported that Kipchumba was number one out of the thirty students in his class. He also said that he has
begun to talk more with students and teachers as well as participate in other activities. One of his exams included writing an essay about his parents. I was, to say the least, very humbled when I read his paper in which he talked about me. I had no idea how this young boy viewed me as a parent. This is a portion of what he wrote:
My parent is Juli. When there was no school fees, she paid for me. She loves me so much! She can’t forget me. When my father was sick, she was coming to see him. When my father got lost, she took me as her boy. When we did exams, she came to school to see my performance. She always comes in the evening to see if I am continuing well. I thank God for giving me a good parent.
Like Kipchumba, I thank God for the ways He is working in this child’s life and for the role He is allowing me to play. Thank you for your continued prayers for Kipchumba.
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