Four years ago I met a little girl named Charity. She was three years old and an orphan living with her siblings and grandmother. I met her on only one occasion, but I have never forgotten her. Along with her older brother Benson, she was intended to come to the children's home that was being opened in a village called Ilula. I had just moved to Kenya and was a part of the team that went to pick up these two children for their medical check-ups. I still can hear the doctor's words: "This one," in reference to Charity, "is HIV positive." At that time, the children's home was not prepared to care for children living with HIV/AIDS; therefore, Charity was returned to stay at home with her grandmother. During my time in Kenya, I have often looked back on this day and wondered if there was something that could have been done differently.
Last week I felt God compelling me to go back to Charity's home. In my spirit, I knew it was time to stop wondering about this little one. I did not know what to expect in going. I did not even know if she was still alive. Without a further plan in place, I trusted that God's grace would cover the situation and lead me. After the two hour drive through terribly muddy and bumpy roads, I arrived back to the simple mud hut of this dear grandma and was greeted warmly by her and her grandchildren. Charity was the first to greet me. All I can say is that she was beautiful and so playful. She sat beside me, laughing and telling me stories in Kalenjiin.
Her grandma explained that she has been healthy. She attends a nearby HIV clinic monthly; and because her immune system is still functioning well, she has yet to be started on antiretrovirals. She receives food support from the clinic. She attends a local pre-school; and, almost perfectly, she recited her ABC's for me.
As I proceeded to leave, Charity walked me to the car. I sensed, in a powerful way, that God led me to Charity's home and not because I was to help and fix anything. Hopefully, I was an encouragement to the family; but the truth is, God desired to remind me that He is able. As the Psalms promise: "The needy will not always be forgotten. The hopes of the poor will not always be crushed."
In Kipkaren, so much hardship has surrounded us this year. There have been seasons of overwhelming suffering and disappointment. The phrase that comes to my mind is I had hoped. I had hoped that peace and justice would fill our community. Instead, I watched hatred, along tribal lines, kill and displace my neighbors. I had hoped, with all of my heart, that God would heal a baby named Felix. Instead, there is a little grave and a mother left to grieve. I had hoped that things would be different. I had hoped.
I think about Abram and Sarai who had hoped for a child. I cannot imagine the feelings Abram must have felt when God appeared to him and promised to give him a son (Genesis 15). He and his wife were too old. They had learned to live with barrenness. They had given up hope that they would bear their own child and were ready to settle for the obvious: a servant would be their heir.
God appeared to Abram and promised the impossible. Abram's choice to believe God required reopening broken places. It involved awakening lost dreams. To hope again was not a "safe" option. Could he and his wife possibly bear being disappointed again? In his crisis of belief, God led Abram outside and said: "Look up at the heavens and count the stars—if indeed you can count them. So shall your offspring be." Abram chose to believe.
Like Abram, I have been forced to make choices between settling for the obvious or trusting God for what simply seems impossible. In truth, at one time or another, we all have. Jesus promised: "In this world, you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world" (John 16:33). Wright states, "Hope for the Christian is not wishful thinking or mere optimism. It is a mode of knowing in which new things are possible. Options are not shut down. New creation can happen. God gives his people the feet to walk the path that they are on. God comes on the road and meets us in the midst of our broken places and catches us up in this movement of all things being made new."
Thank you for traveling with me on this journey of hope.
