Love costs.

Love will cause you to be uncomfortable but is always worth what it costs. This truth has become a reoccurring theme throughout my life. This past week, I encountered the uncomfortable part again as I walked away from a couple of heartbreaking home-visits where I met with two of our HIV+ children who were deteriorating quickly from severe malnutrition. I knew something needed to be done, and love would require action. Attempts to provide food and support to the families had been implemented, but the children were failing to grow. Both children were in need of intensive care. As Mother Teresa said, “It is very important for us to realize that love, to be true, has to hurt. I must be willing to give whatever it takes not to harm other people and, in fact, to do good to them. This requires that I be willing to give until it hurts. Otherwise there is no true love in me and I bring injustice, not peace, to those around me”.
The first little boy is named Felix; and although he is one year old, he is the size of a newborn. He weighs a mere 10 lbs. and is unable to lift up his head or sit up. He has big brown eyes that are constantly looking around the room. In November, Felix’s father passed away from complications related to HIV/AIDS leaving his mother as a widow at the age of 18. She is also living with HIV and trying to raise Felix and two orphans from her husband’s first marriage. Needless to say, the situation is full of challenges and Felix is failing to thrive.
The second visit was to that of a little 2 ½ years old girl named Flovia. In December of 2006, Flovia’s single mother died leaving her to be raised by her grandmother. She barely weighs 13 lbs. and is no longer strong enough to walk. She, like Felix, is very developmentally delayed and regressing as time continues. Weak and frustrated, she is irritable much of the time. As I sat outside her mud hut, I saw classic signs indicative of severe malnutrition. I knew that, without immediate action, this child would not survive.
In response to the needs before us, our Tumaini na Afya team, in collaboration with the children’s families, chose to create a temporary shelter for these little ones to get the attention they are desperately needing. We are feeding them every two hours with a special formula.
developed by the World Health Organization and loving them as they so deserve to be loved.
I have just come from playing with Flovia. In the past two years of visiting her home, I have never seen her smile; but tonight, she laughed. I cannot tell you the way it touched my heart. She played peek-a-boo and was blowing kisses. She is feeding well and the swelling in her legs has decreased. She has begun to wave her little hand and say “bye”. Although my mom always used to tell me that I should say “see you later” rather than “good-bye”; for the moment, “bye” has become my favorite word.
The journey ahead for both Felix and Flovia will be long and will call for hard work and love. It costs sleep. It needs patience and commitment. It involves getting dirty. It will undoubtedly require us, at times, to be uncomfortable. But the love, which we have in Christ, will bear all things, hope all things, believe all things, and endure all things. And no matter what may come, it will never fail.
Your prayers for Felix and Flovia, as well as our entire Tumaini na Afya team, are requested and greatly appreciated.
House-to-house HIV testing.
I also wanted to share with you about an exciting and challenging HIV awareness initiative that we are preparing to launch in June. We are partnering with AMPATH, the local HIV treatment center, to do house-to-house HIV testing within our division. Tumaini na Afya will be mobilizing people within villages to receive HIV testing within their homes. The population we are trying to reach nears 120,000. If this project succeeds, AMPATH’s goal is to test 2 million people living in Western Kenya in the next two years. Again, I request your prayers. There are many battles to be fought and won.

The divide.

This morning I walked the simple paths of this village. I visited the homes of two single mothers – one, I had never met before while the other is a dear friend of mine. These women’s life experiences are not so different from one another, but I was struck by the huge divide in which they live. Their houses are both comprised of the same mud and sticks. Each would, by anyone’s standards, be considered financially poor. They both have their own story of disappointment and rejection by their families. With all of these similarities, the difference between them is like night and day. You see, one has hope.
To reach the first home, I walked through corn fields and crossed the river by balancing across a log bridge. I met a young 27 year old mother of five daughters who, simply put, is struggling to survive. ELI was introduced to this mama when she brought her four year old daughter to our clinic. The child was on the verge of starvation. Even several weeks after intense treatment, her protruding abdomen and stick thin extremities tell of her malnourishment. Even more than her physical condition, I was broken by her blank stare. God only knows all that this little one has faced, but she has completely withdrawn. Two of the other little girls, under the age of five, also had evidence of severe malnutrition. As I sat in this little mud hut, I looked at the sparse grass on the roof and wondered how this mama and her little ones stay dry when it rains and how they sleep with mosquitoes buzzing by their heads. I wondered what this mama’s motivation is to wake up each morning. The truth is, she explained, that when she brought her dying child to the clinic she had lost all hope. In this incredibly difficult situation, I am thankful to be a part of this ELI ministry team that seeks to put compassion into action and that does not sit back when confronted with the suffering of God’s children.
The second home, in contrast, was like a breath of fresh air. A lady, who once was a prostitute and is currently living with HIV/AIDS, glowed as she welcomed me to her home. Her physical struggles are present, but she has a friendship with God that is extravagant. She shared about the ways God is teaching her that He is great. She repeated it over and again: Our God is great. As I listened, it was not like she was trying to convince herself or impress me. She said she had been reading stories in the Bible about God showing up to fight for His people. She explained that countless times He has been her help. As she spoke, I was reminded of the scandalous story in the Bible when the prostitute came to Jesus. She was broken and weeping, but she came and worshipped at the feet of Jesus with her tears and a costly bottle of fragrant oil. After much criticism, Jesus replied to the accusers: “You gave me no kiss, but this woman has not ceased to kiss my feet since the time I came in . . . Therefore, I say to you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for she loved much. But to whom little is forgiven, the same loves little. Then he said to her, ‘Your sins are forgiven.’” (Luke 7:45-48). My friend, who walks in the freedom of forgiveness, has learned to love much.